All eyes were on the car.
The limited-edition supercar idled for half a second before the door opened, and Noah Vale stepped out with calm, unhurried confidence. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he casually reached out and patted Wilson Fisk on the shoulder.
The contrast between them was almost absurd.
Noah stood at a respectable height, but Fisk towered over him—well over two meters tall, built like a wall of muscle and mass. And yet, the moment Noah raised his hand, Fisk actually leaned down slightly, adjusting himself so the gesture would land more comfortably.
That alone was enough to make people stare.
What made it worse—far worse—was the expression on Fisk's face afterward. He looked… pleased. Almost honored.
For anyone who knew Fisk's reputation, the scene was surreal.
This was a man who ran New York's underworld with an iron grip—and here he was, acting like he'd just received a compliment from royalty.
Online, the live chat exploded with reactions. People weren't even trying to hide it.
Is he seriously acting like a lapdog right now?
What am I watching?
Fisk, of course, was fully aware of how this looked.
He just didn't care.
Idiots, he thought coldly. None of you understand what's standing in front of you.
As the one who had supplied Noah with specialized training equipment, Fisk had seen enough to grasp just how terrifying Noah's rate of growth was. Aligning himself early wasn't humiliation—it was strategy.
Why wait until Noah reached the top to try and latch on, when he could secure a place at his side now?
Others had already positioned themselves.
Coach Smith had been there from the beginning. Rogue had her own connection to Noah. If they could carve out roles in his orbit, then so could he.
Losing a bit of face today was nothing.
In exchange, he was buying a future filled with power, influence, and the kind of status others could only envy.
Fisk had made his decision.
He was all in.
Not far away, Professor Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair near the entrance, Jean Grey standing quietly behind him.
Unlike most people in the room, Xavier had some understanding of Noah's potential—and that made the situation far more complicated.
His gaze drifted briefly to a nearby server holding a tray of drinks.
For a moment, he considered asking Jean to wheel him over for a conversation… maybe even a toast.
Then he hesitated.
Even for someone like him, approaching Noah felt like stepping into unknown territory.
The moment Noah entered the venue, he became the center of gravity.
Before he could even take more than a few steps, reporters surged forward, microphones thrust in his direction from every angle.
"Mr. Vale! Your promotional material claims you've uncovered a path to extended life—is that true?"
"Do you support Wilson Fisk in the upcoming mayoral election?"
"You haven't appeared publicly in weeks—are you stepping away from being a superhero?"
The questions came fast and loud, overlapping into a chaotic wall of noise.
Noah's expression tightened slightly.
Then—
Something shifted.
A surge of energy rolled off him, visible to the naked eye. A faint violet glow flared into existence, expanding outward until it formed a solid barrier around him—thick, shimmering, and completely impenetrable.
The crowd froze.
"Holy—"
People stumbled back instinctively, eyes wide. Even those watching through the live broadcast could feel the impact of it.
This was the first time Noah had displayed this kind of power so openly.
He spoke calmly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the entire venue.
"This is a form of internal energy," he said. "It's not unique to me. Anyone can learn it."
A ripple went through the crowd.
"The method is outlined in the book I'm releasing today. The idea is simple—whether you're a mutant or not, you should have the opportunity to grow stronger."
His voice resonated, clear and steady, reaching every corner of the hall without the need for a microphone.
For a brief moment, the entire room fell silent.
Then the realization hit.
This wasn't just a publicity stunt.
This might actually be real.
Noah glanced around once, then dismissed the energy barrier. The violet glow faded instantly, leaving the air still.
He walked forward as if nothing had happened.
The reporters tried to push in again, but Fisk raised a hand. His enforcers immediately stepped in, blocking the path.
"Keep them back," Fisk ordered coldly. "Mr. Vale speaks to whoever he chooses. If he declines someone, make sure they don't get a second chance."
Gone was the deferential tone from earlier.
Now he sounded like the man who controlled half the city.
And yet, the moment he turned back toward Noah, that edge softened again as he followed a step behind.
Inside the hall, the atmosphere shifted.
The crowd approaching Noah now was different—politicians, executives, influential figures. They moved with restraint, each waiting for the right moment to speak.
General Thaddeus Ross didn't bother waiting.
He stepped forward first.
"Kid," Ross said bluntly, "are you serious about this? Your book really contains a way to get stronger?"
Several nearby guests leaned in, listening closely.
Noah smiled slightly. "Why would I lie about something that easy to verify?"
Ross frowned. "There's got to be a catch."
"Of course there is," Noah replied. "If someone with no resources tries to reach the level you just saw… it could take a lifetime. Several, actually."
A murmur spread through the group.
So it wasn't a miracle shortcut.
Then again—
A middle-aged man stepped forward, extending his hand with a practiced smile.
"And if someone does have resources?" he asked. "What then?"
Noah looked at him, curious.
"Rodriguez," the man said. "Vice President."
Noah shook his hand briefly.
"In that case," Noah said, "you might not need long at all. With the right conditions, it could happen overnight."
That answer landed like a shockwave.
Overnight?
Now people were really paying attention.
"Details will come during the presentation," Noah added. "Everyone here will receive a copy. Once you read the introduction, you'll understand."
The books had been tightly controlled from the start. Printing, distribution—everything had gone through Fisk's network. Until now, almost no one knew what was actually inside.
Not even S.H.I.E.L.D. had managed to get an advance look.
Outside, another engine roared.
A second supercar drifted into view, pulling up alongside Noah's earlier ride with a dramatic flourish.
The driver's door swung open, and a man stepped out—sharp suit, confident posture, signature goatee, and an unmistakable air of showmanship.
Tony Stark.
He didn't need an introduction.
Just like before, the reporters swarmed immediately, shifting their attention to the new arrival.
Noah glanced toward the entrance, his eyes lingering on Stark for barely a second.
Then he looked away.
No threat.
Nothing to worry about.