Chapter 416: The Mysterio Plan
"Is Sir planning to use this opportunity to reassemble the Avengers?" JARVIS asked.
"No, no, no—I have no desire to do that." Tony tilted his head back quite stubbornly. He would never admit to it.
"Very well, Sir." JARVIS had been with Tony for so long; he knew exactly when Tony was just being prideful.
Queens
When Peter received Tony's reply, he excitedly opened the email to see how Mr. Stark would answer him. To his surprise, Mr. Stark had only replied with a single sentence: What do you think?
This sentence sent Peter into deep thought. Why would Mr. Stark ask that instead of giving a direct answer?
However, Peter soon looked up, his gaze fixed on the computer screen with determination as his fingers flew across the keyboard.
"I believe you, Mr. Stark," Peter replied, then shut his laptop. He trusted Mr. Stark immensely, as the man had constantly helped him in the past. Now, it was his turn to help Mr. Stark.
Peter immediately threw off his jacket, grabbed the Spider-Man mask next to him, and leaped out of the window.
Spider-Man has returned!
Minetta Street
"First of all, I welcome everyone here who has come to help me," Quentin Beck said, standing before a crowd. At this moment, a group of former Stark Industries employees had been gathered by Beck in this room.
"Skip the pleasantries. Everyone lives for profit. State your plan and the compensation," someone from the crowd shouted. They didn't care for Beck's theatrics. Most of them had been fired from Stark Industries largely due to "moral deficiencies."
"Excellent. I love dealing with smart people." Beck wasn't angry; he was pleased. This personality type was best—it saved him from wasting his breath.
Beck walked into the center of the crowd, and suddenly his body began to change. A puff of green smoke rose from him. The surrounding people retreated in shock, covering their mouths and noses.
As the smoke cleared, it was no longer Beck standing before them, but a figure clad in a green metallic suit, wearing a red cape, and a glass-globe helmet filled with swirling clouds.
"Don't worry, everyone. It's me, Beck." Beck spread his arms to calm the room.
"Beck? You... how did you become like that?" one person asked cautiously.
Beck looked down and chuckled. "This is the latest projection technology I've developed." As he spoke, Beck took a step forward, revealing his true self in his white shirt, while the mysterious figure remained standing where he had been.
"Who wants to give it a try?" Beck smiled and pointed behind him. Soon, a man walked up to the mysterious figure. "Good. Now, just step into it."
The man stepped into the space where the projection was, and the suit quickly "attached" itself to him.
"There is a projector underneath. It has a person-tracking system; it will follow you based on your movements." Beck pushed the man aside and stood there himself, and the suit was re-projected onto him. "You don't need to worry about being exposed because... ordinary people can't tell the difference between real and fake."
As he spoke, Beck moved his limbs, and the projection mimicked him perfectly.
"What's the point of this?" someone sneered. At the end of the day, it was just a projection—it was fake!
"No, it is very useful." Beck looked at the speaker and gave a slight wave of his right hand. A missile streaked through the green mist toward the man.
"Ah!" The man fell to the floor in terror, clutching his head and trembling, but the sound of an explosion never came. Realizing something was wrong, the man slowly looked up and found the missile simply spinning in place in front of him.
"Mixing the real with the fake, and the fake with the real. Tell me, if a real bullet came from behind that, could you dodge it?" Beck's lips curled into a smirk.
Clap, clap, clap!
The people around them began to applaud. Beck's invention actually seemed to have potential.
"So, what do you need from us?" someone asked. If Beck had this tech, why did he need them?
"I certainly need your help." Beck's image flickered, and he returned to his original form. "This is the current flaw: the battery life is poor. Also, the projectors are cumbersome; they must be assembled in advance, or they are useless. And, I need partners to help me monitor everything from behind the scenes."
"I'm willing to help, but we need money," an employee said.
"Don't worry, money is not an issue."
Beck had invited ten former Stark Industries employees. He could afford their compensation. These people were currently unemployed "drifters" because no other company would hire them. He was the only one who needed them; even if the pay was a bit low, they wouldn't turn it down.
"Fine! We're in!" Everyone agreed. Once the technology was perfected, would they ever lack money again?
"Haha~ Currently, the Avengers have collapsed, and Stark is under house arrest. This is our chance." Beck had a brilliant idea.
"What are we going to do?" The crowd changed their tone, using "we" instead of "you."
"We will become the new superheroes, loved and supported by the citizens!" Beck proposed. He planned to take the superhero route, molding himself into a revered savior rather than a loathed supervillain.
"But superheroes don't make money unless you're as rich as Stark," someone laughed. A superhero was just a vigilante, often one hated by the police.
"No. Don't forget our projection technology. Who says we have to look the same when doing good deeds and bad deeds?" Beck had already prepared his plan. "Those arrogant Avengers... it's really irritating to look at them. Aren't they being wanted by the government? I plan to project their appearances and commit all sorts of crimes! Then, I, the superhero, will debut and defeat them one by one!"
Beck's greatest inner desire was to be a global superstar, the center of everyone's attention. That was why he joined Stark Industries in the first place—he wanted to be the next Stark. However, Stark had kicked him out with a single sentence about his "distorted mindset."
"I have a good idea," someone raised their hand.
"Speak," Beck said.
"Projectors are too stationary. To track movements anywhere, we can turn the projectors into drones. That way, flying drones can use projections to blend into the environment and provide tracking projections anywhere, anytime," the man suggested.
"Excellent!" Beck was extremely satisfied. That seemed to solve the projector issue.
"However, to create drones that leave no trace, our collective skills might not be enough. Unless we steal from someone else to study and replicate it," another person added.
"Steal?" Beck frowned slightly. Why steal? Could they not develop it themselves?
"Beck, how much funding do you have?" A tall man stepped forward. His name was Joseph, formerly of the Stark Industries assembly department.
"Why do you ask?" Beck thought he was about to demand an exorbitant price.
"Don't misunderstand. I was in assembly. I most frequently assembled a drone model called the N247. And I've studied it in secret. As long as you have enough money to buy materials, I'm confident I can build one for you," Joseph explained.
"Really?" Beck's eyes lit up. He hadn't expected Joseph to give him such a surprise.
"Of course." Joseph spoke with absolute confidence. He had originally been discovered and fired by Stark Industries specifically for privately researching drone technology.
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