Happy truly lived up to his reputation as an experienced driver, and the Rolls-Royce proved why it was worth every penny. The ride was so smooth that Peter barely felt a single bump along the way.
Leaning back in his seat, he couldn't help but reflect—his rise had been too fast. Compared to people like Tony Stark, who had long been immersed in luxury, his own indulgences felt almost modest.
At most, he had only "taken advantage" of his secretary… and even that had been entirely her initiative.
Turning his gaze to the passing scenery, Peter let the Mediterranean breeze wash over him before asking casually,
"How's Mr. Stark's health lately?"
"Oh, Tony's doing great," Happy replied without hesitation. "He's flying around every day."
Happy might look simple, but he wasn't foolish. Otherwise, he wouldn't have stayed by Tony's side for so long, rising steadily in both trust and position. He knew exactly why Peter had been invited—Umbrella's regenerative serum.
Naturally, he chose to present things in the most favorable light. The better Tony's condition sounded, the stronger their bargaining position would be later.
Peter, however, only smiled faintly and glanced at Felicia.
"Flying around every day? Sounds like he's already given up."
Happy blinked in confusion, completely missing the implication.
Wasn't I just saying he's healthy?
What he didn't know was that the arc reactor embedded in Tony's chest was poisoning him. The palladium radiation was slowly destroying his body—his condition was far worse than it appeared.
Felicia, on the other hand, immediately caught on.
Tony Stark was dying.
Which meant Umbrella's serum wasn't just a solution—it was salvation.
Her fingers moved subtly across the tablet in her hands, revising numbers. The price they had initially prepared vanished, replaced by a figure several magnitudes higher.
Selling to disabled billionaires had already started at a billion dollars.
Saving Tony Stark's life?
That number would need to be multiplied several times over—and even then, additional conditions would be necessary.
She and Peter exchanged a brief glance.
Two predators recognizing each other.
-----
Meanwhile, in Monaco, Tony Stark—currently in the middle of an interview with a reporter—suddenly shivered.
A strange, inexplicable chill ran down his spine.
He frowned, immediately stepping away and heading toward the restroom.
"…Weird," he muttered, scanning his vitals. "Toxin levels haven't increased. Why the hell am I getting chills?"
By the time the Rolls-Royce came to a stop, nearly twenty minutes had passed.
Peter stepped out first, then offered Felicia a hand as she followed. Both wore faint, composed smiles as they looked toward the grand staircase ahead.
Waiting there was a man in a sharp suit, sporting a neatly trimmed goatee and an unmistakably confident grin. Beside him stood a poised, elegant woman with a professional smile—Pepper Potts.
"Hey! Look who it is—our future richest man!" Tony called out loudly, spreading his arms in an exaggerated gesture.
His voice drew immediate attention.
The people gathered here were all elites—business magnates, investors, influential figures. While they were ostensibly here to watch the race, the event was really a social battlefield for capital: partnerships, deals, opportunities.
And at the center of it all—
Was Tony Stark.
Ever since publicly declaring himself Iron Man, he had transcended the limits of ordinary businessmen.
But now—
His gaze was fixed elsewhere.
The crowd followed it.
And saw two figures.
Young.
Far too young.
One looked like a recent graduate.
The other—
Barely more than a teenager.
For a moment, confusion lingered.
Then recognition struck.
"Oh my God… it's him!"
"Peter Parker!"
Even the most composed among them couldn't hide their astonishment.
An eighteen-year-old billionaire wasn't unheard of. Many present had inherited fortunes or received massive startup capital from their families at that age.
But Peter Parker was different.
He hadn't inherited his wealth.
He had built it.
And more importantly—
He wasn't just a billionaire.
He was on track to become the richest man in the world.
That was something else entirely.
Across the globe, there might be hundreds of young millionaires or even billionaires.
But an eighteen-year-old world's richest man?
That was unprecedented.
…
When Bill Gates first reached that title, he had been thirty-one years old.
At eighteen, Gates had still been a college student—experimenting, exploring, living recklessly.
Peter?
Peter was about to achieve, within a single year, what had taken Gates over a decade.
…
And now—
Two legends stood face to face.
Tony Stark.
And Peter Parker.
--------------
T/N:
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