"Oh, my darling Uncle Obadiah, we don't have a policy of kicking an important Major Shareholder out of a Major Shareholder meeting. And being slightly late is such a trivial matter; it's really no big deal for us, is it?" Tony Stark immediately jumped to Zhou Yi's defense. He wasn't about to let the muscle he'd called in be dismissed before the fight had even begun.
As for his justification, everyone in the room knew it was ridiculous, considering Mr. Stark held the undisputed record for lateness at corporate meetings.
"I agree with Mr. Stark. Mr. Zhou is an important Major Shareholder, and his opinion is absolutely indispensable to our corporate decision-making." With Tony Stark setting the tone, others quickly followed suit. Obadiah Stane's already gloomy expression darkened further when he saw who had spoken.
Stark Enterprises was a munitions company with roots reaching back to World War II. Thanks to the unparalleled genius of two generations of Starks, it had rapidly become one of the world's most famous multinational giants.
In the high-tech sector, only competitors like Osborn Company, Hammer Industries, and Japan's Yashida Industries could even compare, and Stark Industries was generally considered the industry leader.
Such a massive enterprise, whose financial clout could rival half the economies of some European nations, naturally had a complex ownership structure:
Tony Stark: The largest shareholder, holding approximately 23% of the company, and, crucially, the owner of countless patents essential to the company's existence. His position was virtually unshakeable.
Obadiah Stane: The co-founder alongside Tony's father and the second-largest Major Shareholder, holding about 11% of the shares. He currently controlled the day-to-day operations of the company, with Tony's passive permission.
Mr. Zhou Yi: The undisputed third-largest Major Shareholder. He originally held only 2%, but through shrewd trading on Wall Street using his rapidly rising IT stock portfolio, he had aggressively increased his holding to 6.7%.
The remaining shares were widely distributed: 5% held by scattered individual investors, 7% by Wall Street financial firms, 10% by the U.S. Air Force and Army, and the rest divided among various corporations like Osborn (4%) and Yashida (5%). According to Stark Industries' bylaws, only shareholders holding over 1% could attend these meetings. Thus, only a small handful of influential individuals were present.
Among these few, most typically deferred to the veteran titan, Obadiah. The person who had just sided with Tony was, therefore, an anomaly: the representative from the U.S. Military, who was always eager to see corporate rivals squabble.
Seeing the Military had backed Tony, Obadiah knew further argument was futile. He could only bite back his anger and proceed with the agenda, his face stern.
"Very well, that settled. Mr. Zhou, as we were discussing, the company plans to formally execute a major transaction in sixteen regions across the Middle East. Our financial advisors calculate the annual profit to be approximately twenty billion U.S. dollars," Obadiah stated, making his final effort to sway the room with the promise of immense wealth.
"The Middle East is at war. Africa is at war. The more they fight, the more we profit. And incidentally, the stronger our country's influence becomes in those regions. I trust you all grasp this principle. If this plan succeeds, your dividends will be considerable, won't they?"
Twenty billion USD was the public figure, the one used for tax filings. Everyone in the room knew the actual, hidden profit would be at least double that amount. This was standard practice; while Stark Industries dared not court the deadly wrath of the U.S.
Internal Revenue Service (IRS) by outright tax evading, they expertly utilized legal loopholes like vast charitable donations (for military families, African children, etc.) to reasonably avoid high corporate taxes. The true dividend payout, therefore, could be double the book value—a dazzling benefit that could easily make people's heads spin.
"I think we all understand Mr. Stane's core meaning. Frankly, no one here wants to upset a profit-making opportunity," Zhou Yi said, sitting down next to Tony and scanning the detailed proposal. "But I have one small concern."
"It appears that not all the armed groups we are selling to are particularly friendly to our beloved Military, are they? What happens if, one day, our own missiles end up hitting our own people?"
"We have no 'own people' in that scenario, Mr. Zhou! We are businessmen!" Obadiah forcefully countered, drawing out each word to suppress his profound displeasure.
"Of course, I understand the nature of business!" Zhou Yi smiled disarmingly. "But let's not forget, while we are businessmen, the American public only sees us as Americans. Once my terrible scenario comes true, who will bear the crushing responsibility in the face of an angry nation? I will state now: I veto this proposal!"
The instant Zhou Yi finished, Tony Stark chimed in. "Hey! I also want to state that I don't object, but I also don't agree. In short, I will not take this responsibility. Absolutely not!" The double use of "will not" emphasized the gravity of his stance.
Predictably, the Military representative immediately disapproved. Wall Street, largely controlled by Jewish financiers, also wanted no part of selling weapons to Muslim extremists, a public relations nightmare they simply weren't willing to risk, regardless of the money. Osborn and Yashida, perpetual rivals, were naturally delighted to see a massive deal slip through Stark's fingers.
In a matter of seconds, Obadiah's plan lost the majority of the crucial votes. The remaining shareholders, seeing the overwhelming opposition, knew the proposal was doomed. Obadiah Stane sank into his seat, his face a thundercloud, remaining silent for the rest of the meeting.
Everyone understood this was not defeat; this was a silent volcano. Even Tony Stark wisely refrained from provoking the elder statesman further.
As soon as the meeting was adjourned, Obadiah and his immediate group swiftly left the Stark Building in his private car, clearly wanting to avoid any further contact with the two scoundrels.
Watching Obadiah's car disappear from the massive windows, Tony Stark raised a champagne flute. "That really takes the joie de vivre out of life, Yi. Did we go too far?"
"Too far? That's entirely your problem," Zhou Yi retorted, rolling his eyes as he drained the champagne. "Obadiah is your quasi-uncle, not mine."
"Hey, pal! Can't you sympathize with my pain? That's the man who watched me grow up!" Tony complained, affecting a pained expression. If one didn't know he was the main instigator, they might actually believe he felt sorry for Obadiah.
Zhou Yi, long accustomed to Tony's staggering hypocrisy—a man who suggested celebrating with champagne after sabotaging his father's friend—merely chuckled in reply.
"What does 'haha' mean, pal? Are you looking for a fight?" Tony was quick to turn his irritation onto his comrade.
Zhou Yi was equally quick to challenge him. "Oh, you can bring Hogan [Happy Hogan] with you. I truly don't mind a two-on-one!"
Tony, considering Zhou Yi's demonstrated, overwhelming martial prowess, and doing a quick calculation of his own meager fighting skills plus Hogan's, wisely changed the subject.
"Speaking of which, pal, we haven't seen each other in forever. I absolutely have to throw a party to celebrate! I'm sure those lovely young ladies miss us terribly. Old rules: I get first pick. And this time, I'll let you off the hook; Hogan is too tough for you anyway."
"We'll discuss the party in a few days, old pal," Zhou Yi said, setting down his glass and standing up. "Unlike you, I'm not exactly footloose and fancy-free. I have a difficult parent-teacher conference to deal with."
"Oh, what an enviable problem," Tony said, raising his glass with a mischievous grin. "You know, I've always wanted a cute little sister."
"Go to hell, Tony," Zhou Yi cursed affectionately, giving him a farewell gesture as he walked toward the elevator.
Mr. Stark returned the gesture, but not without a final reminder. "And pal, don't forget the party. Jarvis will notify you once everything's settled."
"Don't worry, I wouldn't forget that for the world. But, are you going to invite Pepper? I'm genuinely curious." With that last, needling question, Zhou Yi stepped into the elevator and departed Tony's private floor.
Tony smiled, looking at the retreating elevator doors. "Wow, he really does hate to lose an argument, doesn't he?" His gaze drifted to a holographic image that displayed the lovely face of Miss Pepper Potts. "But why wouldn't I want to invite her?"