…
Afterward.
Christine's bedroom.
She was still lying on the bed, barely conscious, trembling as if in the middle of a Parkinson's episode. Leon, meanwhile, had already recovered completely. As he searched the floor for his clothes, he dialed Tony.
"Bro, I can't wait any longer. Make sure you bring Rhodey."
"Alright."
On the other end, Tony fully understood Leon's mood—but couldn't resist teasing him.
"I actually think 'Shield Kid' has a nice ring to it. Youthful. Approachable."
"Heh."
Leon let out a dry laugh and hung up.
It was fine if Tony called him that. But if villains—or worse, younger heroes—started using it too, what about his dignity?
Just imagine the youngest Avenger, Spider-Man, waving at him:
"Hey, Shield Kid! I'm your biggest fan, Spider-Man!"
Compared side by side… the image was almost too painful to endure.
Leon felt goosebumps just thinking about it.
"Hey, Christine. Wake up."
Smack. Smack.
Fully dressed, Leon walked to the bedside and lightly patted Christine's cheek.
"Mm?"
"Leon, no—please, I can't take it anymore. I'm going to die!"
Half-asleep, she clearly thought his "cooldown" had reset and hurriedly begged for mercy.
"Not that."
Leon sighed. "Tony and I are holding a press conference this afternoon to clarify our identities. Don't say I didn't give you advance notice."
"What?!"
The instincts of a journalist kicked in instantly.
Christine jolted upright, blonde hair disheveled and sticking to her flushed face—only to gasp in pain and collapse back onto the bed.
Leon extended his palm. A warm, soft golden glow radiated from his hand and settled over her lower abdomen. She felt a gentle warmth spread through her body, and the discomfort eased almost immediately.
"So that's your superpower?" Christine asked, cheeks faintly flushed. "I thought you were joking last time."
"Oh? How heartbreaking. I gave you my sincerity, and you repaid me with doubt."
"Get out!"
Leon's mock-dramatic sigh earned him a swift kick under the covers. He took the hint and left.
…
By afternoon, public opinion had thoroughly fermented online.
Just like in the original timeline, netizens were captivated by the sleek Iron Man armor, speculating whether Iron Man was really Tony Stark.
But on Leon's side—thanks to Christine's deliberate steering—the discourse was sharply polarized.
"Shield Kid? He's obviously just a knockoff of Captain America. Cap is the real deal!"
"How dare you talk about my Leon like that? He's ten thousand times more handsome than your self-righteous Captain!"
"Do you even believe that yourself? With that helmet on, he looks like a creep. Cops would probably arrest him on sight!"
"Are you new to the internet? That's Leon Stark!"
"Forget his family, his character, his private life—find me a man in America better-looking than him and I'll concede! [Image attached]"
"Exactly!"
"Please. If I looked like that, I'd gladly trade it for a mansion and a fleet of supercars!"
"Listen to those算盘 beads clacking in your head!"
"Trying to take everything and eat it too, huh?"
"Leon Stark? Stark Industries is on the verge of collapse. He'll be a stray dog soon enough!"
"Buddy, quick tip—throw away your phone and move to another state. Stark doesn't take slander lightly."
"Stark Industries is finished. Hammer Industries will lead the future of weapons manufacturing!"
"Wow, at least try to hide that you're a Hammer shill."
"With Hammer's quality control? Fire ten 'Ex-Wife' missiles and maybe one explodes."
"Hold on—that's not how that works…"
"…"
Leon's hardcore fans dominated half the battlefield. The rest consisted of haters, curious onlookers, Captain America loyalists, and suspected Hammer Industries bots.
"Unbelievable. Every kind of lunatic crawling out of the woodwork…"
Leon tapped the Bluetooth earpiece in his right ear.
"Arcee."
"I'm here."
"Log every account that's slandering or maliciously defaming me. I'll pay each of them a personal visit."
"You're serious?"
"There are quite a lot of them…"
"Of course I'm serious. The internet isn't a lawless frontier. They think I can't trace them through a cable?"
"In their dreams."
With his current speed, it wouldn't even be that difficult.
Besides, he wasn't Superman—the eternal boy scout. The fact that he wasn't vaporizing them with a heat beam like Homelander already proved how restrained he was being.
New York.
Manhattan Square.
The press conference venue was packed.
Between the stage and the crowd, a broad fan-shaped buffer zone had been cleared by burly security guards in black suits and sunglasses. Reporters were positioned along both sides of the empty area, ensuring clear sightlines for filming without blocking the center.
Leon had specifically requested that open space.
As for why…
Backstage.
When Leon arrived, Pepper was busy applying makeup to Tony—complaining the entire time.
Sharon Carter, serving as Leon's executive secretary under her cover identity, stood quietly nearby. Every so often she glanced toward the entrance like someone waiting for her husband to return from war.
The moment Leon appeared, her smile bloomed. She stepped forward, reaching to help him change into formal attire.
"No need to change. Just touch up the makeup."
"Yes, Mr. Stark."
Dressed in a sleeveless black sheath dress, Sharon nodded obediently. Leon sat beside Tony on the sofa and let her work.
"Hey, Shield Kid."
Tony lowered the newspaper in his hand and smirked.
"Oh, come on, Tony." Leon rolled his eyes. "I guarantee that after today, that nickname becomes history."
"Leon," Pepper cut in with a tight smile, "I guarantee that if either of you sneak off for another little adventure like this one, I'm resigning."
She had used that threat more than once. It was the only way to make the Stark brothers recognize the gravity of a situation.
Tony: "Alright, alright."
Leon: "You're the boss."
The brothers shrugged in surrender—then exchanged a glance that clearly meant: We're absolutely doing it again.
At that moment, Agent Phil Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived unannounced. After a brief, meaningful glance toward Sharon, he handed each brother a printed script.
"Agent Coulson?"
"What's this about?"
Coulson adjusted his tie.
"Director Fury assigned me this. It concerns Gulmira."
"You were on a yacht at the time. We've prepared airtight customs records placing you on Avalon Island for the entire day—plus fifty witness statements."
"So this is an official alibi?" Leon raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, Mr. Stark."
Coulson nodded. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has confirmed your vigilante identities. This is for your personal safety."
"Okay."
"Not bad."
Tony's tone was neutral.
Coulson let out a relieved breath—apparently assuming that meant agreement.
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