"It has to be Howard Stark."
The realization hit Rorschach like a jolt of electricity, and his eyes immediately lit up. A man like Howard Stark—one of the most influential inventors and industrialists in America—had no reason to be sitting in a rundown tavern like this unless something unusual was going on.
What could possibly bring someone of Stark's status to a place this cheap and quiet?
A ridiculous thought crossed Rorschach's mind almost immediately. Maybe the infamous playboy had taken a liking to some woman and came here to meet her in secret. The idea left a sour taste in his mouth, but it wasn't entirely impossible.
After all, Howard Stark's reputation with women was even worse than Tony Stark's. The man had a legendary appetite for trouble, and rumor had it he didn't even draw the line at his friends' wives. Calling him a scoundrel might actually be too polite.
"No… that doesn't make sense."
Rorschach narrowed his eyes slightly as another thought surfaced. His mind began racing through everything he knew about the timeline.
"SHIELD should already exist around this time, right?"
If that was the case, then Stark's appearance here probably had nothing to do with chasing women. The more Rorschach thought about it, the more the situation felt like an operation.
"Could he be here on a mission?"
The moment that possibility formed, any trace of sleepiness disappeared. If this really was some covert intelligence operation, there was a good chance it might trigger a system mission.
Rorschach felt his attention sharpen instantly.
He turned slightly toward Raven and spoke after a short pause. His tone sounded casual, but his mind had already made a decision.
"Raven, I've been thinking about something. If Caliban is really as sensitive as you say, maybe it's better if I wait for you outside."
Tracking down Caliban suddenly seemed far less interesting than keeping an eye on Howard Stark.
Between chasing a mysterious mutant and observing a potential SHIELD operation, the second option clearly had more potential value.
"Alright," Raven replied without much thought. She nodded easily, clearly seeing no problem with the arrangement. "Caliban is inside somewhere. I'll go talk to him. You wait here."
Rorschach simply gave a small nod in response.
After Raven disappeared deeper into the tavern, he moved calmly toward a nearby table and sat down. To avoid attracting attention, he ordered a glass of cheap wine and leaned back in his chair like an ordinary customer.
On the surface, he looked like a man drinking alone in the corner.
In reality, every bit of his attention was focused on Howard Stark.
That quiet observation quickly paid off.
"Sir, it's already been more than two hours. Do you think that guy will actually show up?"
The young bartender behind the counter spoke casually while polishing a glass. His voice was calm and steady, and anyone listening would have assumed it was ordinary small talk.
But Rorschach heard something else in the tone.
Old Henry—the bartender who normally worked here—had taken sick leave earlier. Now it suddenly made sense why.
This "bartender" was clearly a SHIELD agent.
"He will."
Howard Stark answered with absolute confidence. His posture was relaxed as he swirled the drink in his glass, but the certainty in his voice left no room for doubt.
"The Soviets never forgive traitors," Stark continued quietly. "Especially scientists like him. Without us, no one can protect him."
The young bartender placed the freshly cleaned glass back onto the rack.
"Then why hasn't he shown up yet?"
"In his situation?" Stark said with a faint smile. "Being cautious is understandable."
He took a slow sip of his drink before continuing.
"Relax and keep working. He may already be here somewhere, just watching the room."
"Understood, sir."
The conversation ended as quietly as it had begun.
To everyone else in the noisy tavern, it sounded like nothing more than a few harmless sentences exchanged between a bartender and a regular customer.
But neither of them realized someone else had heard every word.
A "hacker" had slipped into the scene.
"A Soviet traitor… and a scientist?"
Rorschach leaned back slightly in his chair while his thoughts spun rapidly.
A name quickly surfaced in his mind.
Anton Vanko.
The father of Ivan Vanko—the man who would eventually become Whiplash.
If Rorschach remembered correctly, Anton Vanko had once worked with Howard Stark before being deported back to the Soviet Union for espionage. Years later, he defected again.
The timing lined up almost perfectly.
If the person Stark was waiting for really was Anton Vanko, then Rorschach had accidentally stumbled into a moment of history.
He couldn't help feeling a little curious.
The only thing he didn't know yet was whether the system would recognize this event as something mission-worthy.
For now, all he could do was wait.
Creak.
The tavern door suddenly opened again.
A middle-aged man walked inside.
He looked rough and unremarkable, the kind of person who wouldn't attract attention in a place like this. Most of the people in the tavern barely spared him a glance.
But Howard Stark noticed immediately.
A faint flash of excitement appeared in Stark's eyes.
The target had arrived.
Anton Vanko.
"I told you he would show up."
Stark smiled calmly as if everything was unfolding exactly as expected. He drained the last of the wine from his glass, stood up smoothly, and began walking toward the newcomer.
Even in the middle of a covert operation, Stark couldn't resist showing off his confidence.
"Hey, Charlie!" Stark called out loudly as he approached. "What took you so long?"
His tone sounded warm and friendly, as if he were greeting an old acquaintance.
"Don't even ask," the man replied with a frustrated sigh. "Hans—the guy at the garage—is a vampire. I finished waxing the car exactly like he asked, but he insisted it wasn't good enough and made me redo the whole thing."
The two men chatted casually while walking together toward a quieter corner of the tavern.
Only after they sat down did the newcomer finally ask the question that mattered.
"Howard Stark?"
It was less a greeting and more a final confirmation.
"Of course it's me," Stark said proudly, spreading his hands slightly. "I'm pretty famous. You could have verified my identity easily before coming here."
"I did some checking," Anton Vanko replied with a shrug. "But that doesn't guarantee you aren't someone wearing a disguise."
He paused briefly before adding another sentence.
"Of course, disguises tend to fall apart when you ask the right questions."
Vanko immediately presented Stark with a deeply technical academic question related to their field of research.
Howard Stark answered without hesitation.
The explanation flowed naturally and confidently, and every detail was perfectly accurate.
Vanko watched him closely for a few seconds before finally relaxing.
"Alright," he said. "Now can I see what I came for?"
But now it was Stark's turn to verify the goods.
Anton Vanko reached into his coat and pulled out several folded sheets of paper. He slid them across the table without hesitation.
Stark opened them and scanned the contents quickly.
Within seconds, satisfaction appeared on his face.
The papers contained part of an advanced energy research report written by Vanko.
For months, Stark had been struggling with a concept related to a new type of reactor design. This research could finally make that idea a reality.
Even though the report was incomplete, Stark's expertise allowed him to immediately recognize its authenticity.
"Looks good," Stark said with a satisfied nod.
He folded the papers and tucked them away rather unceremoniously.
"Alright. Let's go."
Stark stood up and gestured for Vanko to follow him.
But at that exact moment, something changed.
A bearded man suddenly stood up from another table.
In one swift motion, he pulled out a pistol and pointed it directly at Anton Vanko.
His finger tightened around the trigger.
Did Anton Vanko really believe he could simply escape to New York and live peacefully after betraying the Soviet Union?
"Watch out!"
One of the tavern waiters reacted instantly.
The man lunged forward without hesitation and tackled Stark and Vanko to the ground just as the gunman fired.
At the same time, the waiter drew a pistol of his own and returned fire toward the attacker.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The deafening sound of gunshots exploded inside the tavern.
Panic spread through the crowd instantly. Chairs overturned, glasses shattered, and customers rushed toward the exits in blind terror.
Within seconds, the entire place descended into chaos.
But one person remained perfectly still.
Rorschach didn't move from his seat.
Because at that exact moment, his system interface suddenly updated.
A new notification appeared in front of him.
[New Mission Generated]
[Mission Objective: Protect Howard Stark and ensure he remains completely unharmed]
[Mission Reward: 50 Origin Points]
"Fifty?"
Rorschach blinked in surprise.
Only fifty Origin Points.
The last time he killed Sabretooth, the reward had been one hundred. This mission offered only half that amount.
Still, after thinking about the situation for a moment, the reward started to make sense.
After all, this wasn't some battle against powerful mutants.
He was just dealing with a few ordinary gunmen.
Given that, the reward really couldn't be too high.
.....
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