C18: The Phantom Thief Reappears
The Stark Industries shareholders meeting ended in disarray, courtesy of Tony Stark's uncompromising demeanor.
"How'd I do?"
On the way back to his 93rd-floor office in the Stark Tower, Tony turned casually to Pepper Potts, his tone flippant.
"You were over the top, Tony," Pepper said sharply. "Mr. Liszt was only voicing concerns about the company's strategic pivot—"
"He was voicing concern about his dividends," Tony cut her off, scoffing. "Stark Industries practically printed money for them during the Oscorp bidding war and the Wakandan tech boom, but they've never had enough. I mean, come on, have they ever thought about doing something normal like going fishing or collecting rare first editions of Captain America's WWII war reports?"
"Tony~"
"He's not wrong," Obadiah Stane added smoothly from behind them, echoing Tony's sentiments with a diplomatic nod. "They're minor stakeholders. No real influence."
With support in his corner, Tony gave Pepper a triumphant smirk, stepped into the elevator, and shrugged. "Told you."
"Mr. Stane, it's exactly because you coddle him that he thinks he's invincible," Pepper said, clearly exasperated.
"Guilty as charged," Obadiah chuckled, but his eyes flickered coldly. He waved at Tony. "Don't forget what you promised the board, Tony."
"Relax, I won't."
Inside the elevator, Tony pressed the biometric panel. As the doors slid shut, Obadiah's smile faded. He adjusted his tie with mechanical precision and pressed the opposite elevator button, his expression unreadable.
…
"So, what's next?" Tony asked as he stepped into his sleek, tech-integrated office, its walls adorned with holograms of Iron Man schematics and archived S.H.I.E.L.D. briefings.
"MIT wants you to give the keynote for the Commencement this fall," Pepper read off her StarkPad.
"Didn't I do that last year?"
"You were invited last year. You skipped it."
"Oh, right. That was the day I got 'ambushed' by two lingerie models at that Avengers charity ball."
Pepper gave him a cold stare. "Tony, they weren't ambushing you. You double-booked."
Tony shrugged. "Semantics. Honestly, they shouldn't assume just because they took a selfie with me, they're automatically my girlfriends."
"You're a narcissist."
"And I've never denied it." He poured himself a glass of 1961 Château Latour. "Besides, I earned this."
"You have a strategy briefing with Maria Hill in an hour."
"So I didn't pour you a glass."
He sauntered toward his desk, sipping, only to stop when he noticed a peculiar card.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., has anyone accessed my office?"
"No unauthorized entries, sir."
"What is it?" Pepper asked, noticing Tony's demeanor shift.
"Someone left me a calling card," he replied, lifting the ornate white card delicately.
Pepper leaned in to read it:
> Announcement: On a carnival Saturday night, as the clock strikes zero, I will take away the steel car. — Phantom Thief Kidd
"J.A.R.V.I.S., pull up every file on Kaito Kuroba, alias Kaito Kid. Cross-reference Interpol, the NYPD, and Gotham City's Major Crimes Unit."
"Accessing now, sir."
Moments later, a translucent holographic interface lit up the office, revealing surveillance footage, police reports, and Daily Bugle headlines. The image of a man in a white suit, monocle, and cape, complete with a top hat appeared prominently.
"We should contact the authorities," Pepper said, alarmed. "This isn't just a prank, he's known to have outsmarted Batman and even the Question once."
Tony held up a hand. "Wait."
He tapped a finger on the hologram, isolating a news clip labeled April Fool's Heist Statue of Liberty Illusion. His gaze was drawn to the figure vanishing into thin air from a rooftop while under surveillance from S.H.I.E.L.D. drones.
"Don't you think this is kind of exciting?" he said, eyes twinkling. "A gentleman thief who sends you a riddle before robbing you blind? It's like Riddler, but without the sociopathic obsession."
"This isn't a game, Tony! He's already pulled off heists in New York, Tokyo, Metropolis, and even broke into the Fortress of Solitude using a Kryptonian hologram disguise."
"And yet, not a single fatality." Tony swirled his wine. "Just sleight of hand, flash bombs, and vanishing acts. A criminal magician."
"You're a billionaire genius with the world's most advanced A.I., and you want to chase a magician in a tuxedo?"
"I've done worse. Remember the time I went to Madripoor dressed as a punk rocker?"
Pepper scowled. "Your safety is critical for you, Stark Industries, and the Avengers."
"Just Stark Industries?"
"…And me."
Tony gave her a sideways glance and a crooked smile. "Fine. I won't go anywhere."
"What day is it?"
"Saturday," she answered quickly, then blinked. "Wait… No. Don't you dare."
"Too late." He flashed her the signature Stark grin.
"You are such an ass."
"And proud."
…
Saturday. Midnight. Manhattan Carnival.
Sitting in his sleek self-driving Audi R8, arc reactor core subtly glowing, Tony stared at the Phantom Thief's note one last time, lost in thought.
"Tony, we're here."
Happy Hogan glanced back at his boss, watching the chaos of neon lights and festival-goers swirl outside.
"Got it."
Tony blinked, came back to himself, and slipped the card into his jacket. Outside, jugglers, fire-breathers, and cosplayers dressed as the Avengers and Justice League blurred past in a whirl of color. Somewhere in this carnival of chaos, a master thief was watching.
"Same drill, Happy."
"Copy that."
Tony reached for the door but paused. He turned back and looked at Happy with rare seriousness.
"This time, give me the key. I'll hold onto it."
Happy raised an eyebrow but complied. "Sure thing. You're the boss."
Tony stepped out, the Phantom Thief's promise echoing in his mind.
Tonight, the game was on.
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