New York, famous as the economic capital of the United States.
Skyscrapers stood in dense rows, and LED billboards were dazzling.
Today was another peaceful day—not!
On the bustling downtown streets, every half an hour, the distinct local siren would blare, and a fervent atmosphere of "freedom" permeated everywhere.
Actually, ever since Tony Stark publicly revealed his identity as Iron Man over a year ago, New York, where the Stark Industries headquarters is located, had become much more stable. After all, before committing crimes here, criminals were unsure if the billionaire playboy would suddenly don his damn cool Iron Man Suit and descend from the sky at Mach speed to blast them to God.
Although everyone knew that Tony Stark rarely actually intervened to punish 'minor crimes' like bank robberies, the desperate power gap—where there was no chance of escape once encountered—still made many criminal organizations apprehensive.
It perfectly echoed the current advertisement slogan: "2009, technology makes the world a better place!"
Iron Man was the king crowned by epoch-making technology.
His immense deterrent power as a superhero was, to some extent, even stronger than a city's police force.
At this moment.
Tony Stark, who held titles like Iron Man, playboy, and billionaire, was in a famous New York bar and nightclub, surrounded by a group of curvaceous dancers and models wearing minimal clothing.
"I said, Tony, can you stop arranging business meetings in places like this?"
His friend and U.S. Military Colonel, James Rhodes, looked speechless. He was trying to push his way through the crowd of women to get next to Tony Stark, his dignified and neat officer's uniform completely out of place in the current environment.
However, that Colonel title was still enough to deter many people. After Rhodes arrived, the women finally dispersed from around the attention-grabbing Stark.
"Changing locations is impossible; it's never going to happen. But you, can you please stop wearing that uniform every time? It really affects the atmosphere and mood," Stark teased, casually picking up a glass of red wine and swirling it.
"I just snuck out of the base."
Although Rhodes said that, he also took a glass of red wine from a passing waiter's tray and clinked glasses with Stark.
Lights flashed, and music blared.
After drinking, Rhodes looked intoxicated and had quickly and genuinely integrated into the current scene.
"It's the middle of the day; what do you suddenly need me for?" Stark asked casually.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot about the main topic!"
Rhodes shivered, looking at his friend with a serious expression, and lowered his voice: "Haven't you been looking for people with extraordinary talents or incredible powers for the past six months?"
"That is indeed the case."
Stark nodded frankly; he hadn't kept his plan to form a superhero team a secret from his friend. If Rhodes hadn't held a military position, making it inconvenient for him to act privately many times, he would certainly have been a member of the team.
"How's the progress?" Rhodes asked curiously.
"Not bad, I've already got two or three candidates."
Although Stark's tone was still casual, Rhodes heard the helplessness in it.
In fact, Stark had only found one candidate, and that was just a few days ago.
The other two were suggested by the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Fortunately, the person he found was someone whose intellect and strength were unmatched by ordinary people.
This was the only point that could make Stark feel relieved.
Don't look at how big the world is; there are still very few humans with abilities beyond ordinary people.
"What do you think of the new superhero in Washington, the Silver-Haired Goddess? She defeated the Abomination, a Hulk clone!" Rhodes asked with great interest.
"Of course, I had J.A.R.V.I.S. investigate that very night." Stark spread his hands, narrowing his eyes and saying, "Although there isn't much information, I can confirm that she lives in Washington."
...On Times Square streets, people were everywhere, Christmas tree decorations were ubiquitous, and the festive atmosphere had enveloped the entire city.
"Vincent, what do you think of this?" Gwen, wearing a Santa hat, asked, tugging on Vincent's sleeve.
Vincent: "It's beautiful."
"Senior, what about mine?" Kara touched the reindeer bell on her neck, and the bell rang with a clear and pleasant metallic sound.
Vincent: "It's beautiful."
Throughout, Gwen and Kara led Vincent, their 'tool man,' as they strolled through the bustling commercial streets. The two beautiful girls also became a beautiful sight in the city.
Although being surrounded by beautiful girls was a nice experience, Vincent hadn't forgotten about the main task.
Reaching the intersection, Vincent suggested, "Alright, now I'll take this street, and you two take that one."
"Huh?" Gwen's smile vanished.
"Why?" Kara also looked puzzled.
"Gwen, have you forgotten? You came here in advance to do tourism research," Vincent gestured. "The streets are so big; we can't possibly see everything. How about we split up, one person takes one side? You and Kara together will also ensure safety."
Gwen's mind went blank; she never expected the excuse she made earlier to backfire on her.
"Senior, I..." Kara looked up, about to say something, but met Vincent's smile: "Then I'll leave it to you, Kara. You and Gwen, take care of each other's safety."
Kara's small mouth opened and closed, wanting to say, You are the most unsafe one, aren't you?
She couldn't voice her refusal and could only reluctantly agree: "Alright."
"Then it's settled."
Vincent, holding his backpack, walked alone in the direction of one street.
The two beautiful girls, Gwen and Kara, were left behind, looking at each other.
How did things turn out this way?
...Vincent walked in one direction down the street, taking photos and recording on his phone. He didn't know how long he walked until a building caught his attention.
It was a memorial hall.
Adult tourists, often with their children, entered and exited. Some children held plastic five-star round shields, their eyes filled with excitement and longing.
Seeing this distinctive scene, there was no need to ask; it was clear what kind of memorial hall it was.
The Captain America Memorial Hall.
As the first superhero created in human history, Captain America's influence in this country was undeniable, even though he had crashed and died over half a century ago. Yet, in the military, many American soldiers still regarded him as a role model for soldiers.
Vincent had only heard about it before; this was his first time seeing the Captain America Memorial Hall.
This was a landmark for New York tourism.
Vincent stood in front of the steps at the entrance of the memorial hall, hesitating whether to go in and tour it, when a tall young man walked out from inside, directly towards him.
The white young man wore casual pants and a jacket, with a baseball cap pulled very low, and he was looking down slightly, so his face was unclear. However, Vincent was standing below the steps, at an upward angle that allowed him to see his face clearly.
"Mr. Steve?" Vincent said in surprise.
The white young man paused for a moment, looked at the young man in front of him, and nodded slightly.
The one who had just secretly walked out of the memorial hall was none other than the very person the memorial hall commemorated—Captain America, Steve Rogers!