Peter wasn't particularly surprised that the mansion-turned-prison was located inside the Avengers base. After the breakout at the Raft, the issue of security for supervillains had become a persistent headache. In the end, almost everyone agreed that until an invention capable of guaranteeing absolute security was developed, keeping the "problem" inside the Avengers' home was the most suitable arrangement.
At least, that was how everyone else decided it, and the Avengers themselves had no objections—it was better to shoulder the threat themselves.
However, this did bring up Tony's perennial hobbyhorse: "We need to expand recruitment!" He gestured to the facility, noting how he'd already arranged accommodations for three hundred Avengers. "Between the monthly property management fees and all these facilities, what's the point if nobody's living here?"
"And finally, there's the rest, recreation, and assembly area. I wasn't sure how to design this, so I just went with what I imagined… a club."
Tony led Peter into the main building. The first floor looked like a museum, filled with various trophies from Avengers members, ranging from the helmet of the original Iron Monger armor to more recent items, such as fragments from Kang's warship.
The rooms further back were eclectic. It really was just as Tony described; rather than a formal office area, it felt more like a lounge, with snacks, bookshelves, and sofas everywhere.
After completing the tour, Peter looked at Tony and asked, "So, am I the last one to come here for a look?"
"No, that's not it. Actually, T'Challa hasn't seen it yet. The others have, though. And guess what they said? Almost everyone complained that the place was too empty and lacked any 'human touch,' so they didn't intend to live here. My god..."
Tony rolled his eyes in frustration and sighed, but then he chuckled. "The good news, however, is that if they really don't intend to live here, they don't exactly have anywhere else to go. After all, Avengers Mansion has been demolished."
For some reason, Tony sounded quite proud, as if this were a good thing. Peter looked around and asked, "I have a question. As of now, who exactly is staying here permanently?"
"Uh, Cap. Good thing he doesn't have to pay Brooklyn rent anymore. Hank has his job as a university professor, and Janet has all sorts of salons to attend, so they basically won't be staying. T'Challa is even less likely to, um… oh, and Banner. Banner and Cap will be staying at the base regularly."
No wonder the place felt empty. It was true—practically nobody was hanging around.
Peter nodded, feeling a bit helpless. "I see. I'll get Otto's data organized as soon as possible and see if it can be of any use."
—
May Parker drove her car to the charity banquet as usual. There were no young helpers around today, and the crowd coming in and out was massive, a large portion of whom were job seekers. The wave of resignations at Stark Industries had only been completely curbed long after Oscorp announced its merger with Stark Industries. During this period, former Stark employees were out looking for work every single day.
Today was no exception. May watched the long line at the front desk, shook her head helplessly, and walked into the kitchen. Since Felicia and the others weren't there, they had naturally returned to the simplest, most classic "white" fare: stewed beans mixed with near-expired vegetables and cheap canned meat.
It wasn't that the charity didn't want to buy better food, but they had to provide three meals a day to hundreds of people. The charity itself was a non-profit relief organization that relied entirely on donations; without cutting corners, they couldn't provide that much food. Felicia even paid for the flour out of her own pocket.
What's more, ever since the incident with the Stark Industries arc reactors, fewer and fewer regions were using them. Without competition, prices in New York—and across the country—had begun to rise.
"Good news, Ms. May. I found a job."
An unemployed former Stark employee found May in the kitchen. He had been hanging around for two weeks; though he didn't live there, he would show up every day wearing a windbreaker, hoodie, and mask to get a meal. May didn't mind his appearance; in fact, she had even slipped him some extra money to help him buy food so he could get back on his feet.
"Oh, congratulations!"
May smiled at the young man. "I'm so glad to see your life getting back on track."
"I'm afraid it's still a bit early to say that. Although the salary is enough to cover daily life, there's still a three-month probationary period." As he spoke, he pulled some money out of his pocket. "This is what you gave me last time..."
"I didn't give you that money because I wanted you to pay me back or because I pitied you, son. I just didn't want to see a person get knocked down by a single accident and never recover. You needed a decent meal back then."
May shook her head as she picked up a pot of thick Spam and bean stew. "But if you want to help, why not tell me if that company is still hiring? Maybe your colleagues who went through the same thing as you need a job, too."
"I see that the newly established Mechanical Engineering Department at Roxxon is still very much in need of people..."
Roxxon's new Mechanical Engineering Department? Wasn't Roxxon the company that had been going head-to-head with Stark in the business wars? Aunt May pondered this for a long moment, but she didn't say anything; such was the state of things nowadays.
Carrying the ladle and the pot of stew, she walked over to the window and began serving. As the people who lived at the charity or were just seeking food came up to collect their portions, May noticed something that surprised her greatly: a homeless man who had previously walked with a limp due to an accident was walking perfectly fine today.
"Oh, Carlos, you..."
"I met God's messenger, May. I felt the gospel he was spreading." The homeless man smiled as he took his lunch and continued, "He cured me. Didn't charge a penny, and he even hoped I'd refer more patients to him. He didn't prescribe any painkillers; just a small surgery, and I was back to normal."
"Oh, that really is good news."
May smiled, expressing her joy for her friend, but then a question occurred to her: Was what this man was talking about the same thing as that strange doctor Peter had mentioned before?