Chapter 7: Stark, Be My Friend
Back to Tony Stark and Yinsen's perspective.
One second, they'd heard an explosion. The next, the reinforced steel door to their cell had twisted itself into a pretzel — and standing in the newly created opening was a tall Asian man in a black trenchcoat and tactical goggles, smiling at them like he'd just dropped by for coffee.
"Hey there, Tony Stark." Ethan flashed a friendly grin. "Want to be best friends?"
Tony and Yinsen stared at him, jaws hanging open.
Ethan realized how that sounded.
"Uh — sorry. Wrong opener." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Let me start over. Hi. I'm Ethan Cross. Ms. Pepper Potts hired us to get you out of here."
Tony — who was already recovering his composure at an alarming rate — pointed a finger at Ethan, then at the crumpled door, then back at Ethan.
"That thing you just did. With the door. Was that magic? And how did you just... appear in front of me?"
"Just a minor superpower. Nothing worth writing home about."
Ethan instinctively extended his hand for a handshake — then caught himself. Right. Tony Stark isn't a handshake guy.
He lowered his hand casually, as if he'd only been stretching.
"So..." Yinsen, who had been thoroughly ignored for the past thirty seconds, finally spoke up. "We're rescued? Is it safe out there?"
"My partners are handling it. We're good." Ethan waved a dismissive hand.
At that exact moment, a blur of white and silver rocketed into the chamber.
Pietro.
The instant he laid eyes on Tony Stark, something dark flashed across his face. His fist clenched. His muscles coiled. He lunged —
Whoosh.
Ethan materialized between them, catching Pietro's fist in his open palm with a sharp crack.
"Stand down."
"Whoa whoa whoa — what is HAPPENING?!" Tony stumbled backward, eyes darting between the two. "Ethan, who is this white-haired lunatic?! He looks like a dollar-store anime character! And he's punching people?! I'm docking your pay for this!"
"Tony Stark, you piece of —!" Pietro strained against Ethan's grip, veins standing out on his neck. "You goddamn arms dealer! You murderer! We should've left you to ROT in here!"
Tony blinked. The arrogance flickered.
Ethan kept his hand locked around Pietro's fist and spoke evenly. "Pietro's foster parents. They lived in Sokovia. His entire family was killed by a Stark Industries missile during the conflict there. Your weapons destroyed his home."
The cave went quiet.
Tony looked at Pietro — really looked at him. The rage. The grief underneath it. The kid who'd grown up with a hole in his life shaped exactly like the weapons Tony's company had stamped out by the thousands.
When Tony spoke again, his voice was different. Lower. Stripped of the bravado.
"I'm sorry. I'm... truly sorry. I didn't know. I never knew what was actually happening with the weapons after they left the factory. I thought they were protecting people."
He paused. Swallowed.
"Not long ago — right here in this cave — I watched a young soldier die. Killed by the exact weapon I'd designed to keep him safe." Tony's eyes dropped to the arc reactor glowing in his chest. "That's when I realized... I've been doing this wrong. All of it. When I get out of here, I'm going to make things right. I'll give you an answer you deserve, kid. I owe you that."
Pietro's arm slowly relaxed. The fury didn't vanish — it never would, not completely — but the man standing in front of him wasn't the monster he'd imagined. Not exactly.
And besides, the guy was still technically their mission objective.
"Alright, alright." Ethan released Pietro's fist and clapped his hands together, resetting the room. "Mr. Stark, you hungry? Want something to eat while my people finish mopping up outside?"
He shot Pietro a look. Pietro, reading it perfectly, reached into the rucksack and produced two foil-wrapped bundles.
He handed one to Tony. One to Yinsen.
Tony unwrapped his. Stared at it. His entire face transformed.
"Is this... a cheeseburger?"
"Sure is."
"How did you — do you have ANY idea what I've been eating for the past month?!" Tony took a bite so enormous he could barely close his mouth around it. His eyes rolled back. "Oh my God. This is the greatest thing I've ever tasted. Just for this — just for this one cheeseburger — you've got yourself a friend for life, Ethan."
A chime rang through Ethan's mind.
「DING!」
「Congratulations, Host! Tony Stark has been added as a friend!」
「Attribute Gained: Cursed with Knowledge!」
「Integrate immediately?」
Not yet. Bad timing.
"Deny. But scan him for me."
「DING!」
BASIC INFO:
[ Name: Tony Stark ]
[ Title: Iron Man ]
[ Race: Human ]
[ Friendship Level: ★ ]
[ Skills: Chemistry Lv.7 · Physics Lv.10 · Charm Lv.5 · The Truth (cannot be upgraded) · R&D Lv.7 · Cursed with Knowledge · Intellect Lv.9 · Stamina Lv.1 · Creativity Lv.8 · Engineering Mastery Lv.10 · Science Lv.10 · Resilience Lv.7 · Protagonist's Luck... ]
Stamina Lv.1. Protagonist's Luck off the charts. Yeah, that tracks.
Ethan felt a familiar pang of envy. Tony Stark's stat sheet read like a cheat code. But that was the thing about main characters — they were built different.
He watched Tony and Yinsen demolish their cheeseburgers like men who'd been living on cave water and stale flatbread for a month (because they had). Wade would need a few more minutes to finish the cleanup outside.
Good enough. Let's do this now.
"System. Integrate."
The knowledge hit him like a freight train.
A beam of light blazed through his neural pathways. His brain ignited. Connections he'd never made before snapped into place — physics, engineering, chemistry, systems thinking — not as memorized facts, but as intuition. The way a musician hears a song before it's played.
The world sharpened. Everything became clearer — not just visually, but conceptually. Problems he'd been chewing on for years suddenly had obvious solutions. New ideas erupted from nowhere, stacking on top of each other faster than he could process them.
Ethan had never been stupid. But now? Now he was operating on a level that put him among the smartest people on the planet.
"System. Open my stats."
[ Name: Ethan Cross ]
[ Race: Human ]
[ Skills: Combat Techniques Lv.10 · Cursed with Knowledge (cannot be upgraded) · Healing Factor · Strength Lv.10 · Quick Movement Lv.2 · Chaos Magic Lv.1 · Driving Mastery Lv.6 · Reflexes Lv.7 · Blade Work Lv.5 · Marksmanship Lv.3 · Animal Speech Lv.4 · Cooking Lv.5 · Lockpicking Lv.3 · Robbery Lv.2 · Five-Finger Discount Lv.3... ]
"System — what does 'cannot be upgraded' mean?"
「Host, some individuals are born with gifts that transcend ordinary effort. Certain attributes are innate and cannot be improved through training alone. They can only be enhanced through specific events or through higher-tier friendship rewards.」
Ethan sighed. "So what you're telling me is that success is 99% talent and 1% effort. And all that 'hard work beats talent' motivational poster stuff is basically a scam."
"What's that? Did you just call me a genius?" Tony looked up from his cheeseburger, grease on his chin. "Thanks. I know. Always have been."
Ethan rolled his eyes.
But honestly? He didn't mind Tony's arrogance. There was something almost refreshing about it — the man said exactly what he thought, no filter, no pretense. When you'd been the smartest person in every room since age four, raised by a father who was too busy changing the world to say "I love you," you either developed a thick shell or you fell apart.
Tony had chosen the shell. Sharp tongue, soft heart.
In his previous life, watching the movies, Ethan had always thought Tony Stark was the biggest softie on the Avengers roster. The guy had been ready to sacrifice himself from day one. He'd spent years quietly making sure everyone around him had what they'd need after he was gone.
System or no system, Ethan would have wanted to be friends with Tony Stark. Because who wouldn't want to be friends with a generous billionaire who'd literally die for the people he cared about?
The sounds of combat outside faded. Footsteps approached — confident, unhurried, and just a little too theatrical.
"Sounds like it's over." Ethan turned to Tony. "My partner's done cleaning up. We can move, Mr. Stark."
"You'll be seeing your family soon," Tony said quietly to Yinsen.
Yinsen smiled — a thin, hollow thing — and his gaze drifted somewhere far away.
Before Ethan could dwell on that, the doorway darkened.
Wade sauntered in, both katanas resting on his shoulders, Deadpool Dog trotting beside him with a pistol in each paw. The two of them radiated the energy of action heroes walking away from an explosion — except Wade's suit was covered in sand and what appeared to be hummus.
"The great and powerful Deadpool has CLEARED the field!" Wade announced, striking a pose. "Every last one of those clowns has been gift-wrapped. Honestly — kidnapping my meal ticket and thinking they'd get away with it? Pathetic."
"Your... associates are certainly unique, Ethan." Yinsen studied the man-and-dog duo with academic curiosity.
"Wow." Tony looked Wade up and down. "That is the worst outfit I have ever seen. And I've been living in a cave for a month."
Wade gasped in mock offense, then immediately pivoted to sales mode. "And YOU must be our beloved benefactor — the glowing chest, the goatee, the billionaire energy — Tony Stark in the flesh!" He swept into a bow. "Call me Deadpool. Or call me sweetheart. Either works. For the right price, I'll do anything."
Pietro buried his face in his hands.
"Okay, that's enough." Ethan stepped toward the cave exit. "Time to go. Mr. Stark, Mr. Yinsen — congratulations. You're free men. I'm calling in our extraction now."
He pulled a satellite phone from his coat and dialed.
"Ms. Potts? Ethan Cross. We've located Tony Stark and secured his release. We need a pickup at the rendezvous point." A pause. "You want to talk to him? Yeah, hold on."
He held the phone out to Tony.
Tony stared at it. For just a second, the unshakeable confidence cracked — and underneath was something raw and uncertain. He took the phone with hands that weren't entirely steady.
"...Hey, Pep."
The conversation was short. When it ended, Tony lowered the phone slowly.
He turned to Ethan.
"Thank you."
Two words. No jokes. No deflection. Just that.
Then he gathered his blueprints from the workbench, tucked them under his arm, and walked out into the daylight.