American comics: Starting with Luke the Maker

“How wonderful.”

Taiwan Novel Network→𝓉𝓌𝓀𝒶𝓃.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Luke flipped through the memories of the Purple Man, focusing on his time serving Roxxon. After watching from beginning to end, Luke could only marvel. Even with his expectations set low, the Purple Man and that Dario Agger managed to thoroughly surpass them in these memories.

You think that's low?

No, we can go even lower!

“What are you going to do to him?” Jessica Jones, now freed, watched the images with hatred. Some of the scenes included her, and as she watched herself being ordered to kill by the Purple Man, a mix of regret and pain surfaced on her hateful face.

She wished she could tear the Purple Man into pieces and make him experience all the things he had done to her and the others he had controlled.

“I'm still thinking.” Luke pointed to his head.

The Upside-Down Man Purple Man?

Wouldn't that be a bit too much?

After thinking for a moment, Luke temporarily put it aside. Since he had already done the initial internal implantation, the Purple Man couldn't leave the lab managed by White Queen under Luke's mechanical commands. With the material unable to escape, he would have plenty of time to consider which modification techniques to use. What he needed to solve now was Roxxon and its current leader, Dario Agger.

Clearly, the other party wouldn't give up, but Luke wasn't interested in corporate warfare or clashes of underground forces.

Not out of fear or anything, but because it wasn't necessary. The intelligence Luke obtained from the Purple Man's memories, combined with the disappearance of the Purple Man's control powers, was enough to give Roxxon and Dario Agger a hard time.

“Perhaps, another insurance policy?” Luke's gaze shifted to a scene showing a secret underground base where Dario Agger was conducting some kind of transaction with several people.

…

Monaco.

This is a holy land for racing enthusiasts.

The racetrack is right next to the citizens' houses. Many residents can simply lean out of their windows to watch the roaring race cars speed by.

Every year, it attracts all kinds of tourists, and its famous Monte Carlo circuit often hosts thrilling races. Today is no exception, or rather, because of the arrival of a certain person, today's race is even more eye-catching! The broadcasting rights alone have made the race organizers rich, smiling so wide they wanted to worship the arrogant man like a god.

Although he was sharp-tongued, arrogant, and unruly, and often made people lose face, he brought huge profits! In the face of huge profits, what did sharp tongues matter? What did arrogance matter? What did being unlikeable matter? The race director's face had been beaming.

Of course, that was before.

Now it was shock!

The race was interrupted, the center of the track was a mess, and Tony Stark, his Mark V armor charred, was standing there in a daze, holding a arc reactor of the same technology as his. Beside him were overturned race cars and the wreckage of race cars cut in half by some kind of high-temperature cutting weapon.

Police cordoned off the area, busily rescuing the injured and restoring order. The race director went from heaven to hell. In any case, the person who had entered the track wearing a race worker's uniform and attacked Tony Stark would not escape the targeting of Stark Industries, no matter how chaotic the management was.

If he lost the lawsuit, he might have to pay a large sum of money. Thinking of this possibility, the previously joyful race director now wished he could shoot the intruder.

Some people's moods turned from joy to gloom, while others' moods began to improve from gloom.

Justin Hammer stared intently at the disheveled man being taken away by the police on the screen, his chest filled with elation after surviving a desperate situation! He had originally followed Tony Stark here to see if he could cooperate with Stark and make an appearance at the technology expo co-sponsored by the government and Stark, but Tony had directly rebuffed him.

Justin Hammer had previously felt that he shouldn't have come, knowing what kind of person Tony Stark was.

But now, watching the man being dragged away on the screen, Justin Hammer felt that his ability to endure humiliation and swallow insults and his determination to come here was truly a stroke of luck from God!

See, in the absence of obtaining energy and battle suit technology from either Heberon or Stark, God had given him a new path! A better, more wonderful choice that might be able to keep pace with the former two in the future.

He had originally planned to wait for Tony Stark to return from the race and then try his best to win him over one more time. But now? Watching Tony Stark on the screen, who had taken off his steel helmet and was holding a damaged arc reactor, Justin Hammer smiled, and prepared to leave with his people.

He had many things to be busy with next. For example, where was the man he regarded as his “savior” being held? Could he exert some influence in this link and transfer him to a prison invested and operated by Hammer Industries? Or a prison within his reach? If he could do that, many subsequent things would become easier.

Find a scapegoat with a similar face and physique, and then create an artificial accident in the prison, and he could bring that person out without anyone knowing. On the surface, the other party was already a dead man, and he could use various methods to reach a “cooperation agreement” with him. Thinking of the wonderful possibilities, Justin Hammer quickened his pace as he left.

…

Triskelion Headquarters.

Nick Fury had just received intelligence about the attack on Tony Stark. The intelligence was transmitted by Agent Natasha Romanoff, who he had placed beside Tony. Perhaps it wasn't much earlier than the news reports, but the details were more detailed.

“Anton Vanko.”

Nick Fury stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out with his hands behind his back, recalling a long-forgotten name in his mind.

“Director.” The door was suddenly knocked, and Phil Coulson walked in quickly, his face unusually worried. “One of our military bases on a deserted island in the Pacific has been hit by a suspected space-based satellite weapon and has completely lost contact.”

Nick Fury turned around and before he could say anything, he was shocked by the intelligence Phil Coulson revealed, his one eye widening.

“Which country's space-based satellite?” Nick Fury's dark face was stern, his hands propped on the desk, his body leaning forward, his good eye staring fixedly at Phil Coulson standing in front of the desk.

“Not which country, it's—” Phil Coulson said an unexpected name under his commander's stern expression: “—Roxxon Corporation.”