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"I'm making money, I'm making money!
I don't even know how to spend it all!
A Nokia in my left hand, a Motorola in my right—my phone number changes every day through China Unicom and the PHS system.
I've ridden in a Mercedes, driven a BMW, enjoyed saunas, and eaten lobster.
I'm making money, I'm making money!
I even hired three servants—one to clean, one to cook, and one just to be a nanny!"
Rimuru hummed cheerfully, her entire body radiating happiness, like downing a whole bottle of cola in one go—double the joy.
This trip to the West Coast had truly "fattened" her up!
Not only had she successfully obtained all kinds of high-end materials from Tony Stark, she had even secured everything needed to build the Fengshen Mark III and Mark IV armors.
More importantly, she sold her new energy reactor to Tony for one billion dollars.
Including installation costs for a supercomputer, a 3D printer, and a particle collider, this trip brought in at least a billion in net profit.
As expected—kidnapping Tony Stark really was the fastest path to wealth!
After agreeing on a date for their next competition, Rimuru flew back to New York in the Fengshen suit.
Long Island Villa
Looking at the slightly outdated Fengshen armor, Rimuru felt a mix of emotions. She had never imagined that in less than half a year, what was once cutting-edge technology would already become "last generation."
The upgrade speed was faster than consumer electronics!
"In two days, I'll build a dedicated 'closet' in the villa to display the Fengshen series armors!"
During her visit to Tony's West Coast mansion, she had seen his famous "armor closet," and it left a deep impression on her.
Even though she didn't particularly like Tony's aesthetic, she had to admit—he nailed that design.
How could a man's wardrobe not include a few armored suits?Forget luxury cars, fine wine cellars, or designer handbags—nothing screamed status and taste more than a collection of mech suits!
Building armor wasn't easy. Even with Aya's assistance, it couldn't be completed quickly.
Eager to see the birth of Fengshen Mark II, Rimuru simply asked her homeroom teacher, Mrs. Jacqueline, for half a month off.
She had expected resistance—after all, her schedule was already tight and final exams were approaching.
To her surprise, Mrs. Jacqueline approved the leave without even asking why.
Such service was so good it left Rimuru speechless.
At this rate, would they even offer a "wake-up service" if she overslept?
Days passed.
Rimuru buried herself in the lab, forgetting to eat or sleep. The Fengshen Mark II slowly transformed from blueprint into reality.
She was incredibly busy—but also deeply fulfilled, so much so that she lost track of time.
What she didn't know was that, outside her lab, a storm was brewing.
First, Damon used every connection he had to enroll Mindy into Forest Hills Elementary School.
No matter how much Mindy resisted, Damon was determined this time. She had no choice but to go to school with her backpack.
Watching his daughter sitting in a clean, bright classroom, Damon felt immensely satisfied.
Life without that "witch" was wonderful!
He carried out Rimuru's instructions flawlessly, even refusing new jobs. He was simply waiting for her next contact.
Damon didn't mind working for the "witch"—but the witch absolutely could not get close to his daughter.
Never underestimate a father's resolve.
In front of the witch, he might be as weak as an ant—
But even an ant would dare reach for the sun and raise a middle finger if it was for his child.
Meanwhile, Hawkeye felt completely different.
The deeper Barton investigated, the angrier he became.
The impostor using his name had gone way too far.
As an archer, he prided himself on using a bow in most battles.But this fake "Hawkeye" used bows in close combat—an utter disgrace to archery!
Worse still, the guy was incredibly greedy—claiming to uphold justice while raking in massive profits.
When Barton learned that the impostor had extorted one million dollars from Kingpin and siphoned six hundred million from Frank Amick, he nearly exploded with rage.
Was this a joke?!
He worked harder than anyone—up before dawn, asleep past midnight—and earned barely anything in comparison.
He couldn't even remember his last raise.
His sense of justice erupted completely.
For America—no, for world peace—he had to eliminate this hypocrite.
While Hawkeye intensified his investigation, the same intelligence also reached Kingpin.
Snakes have their paths, and rats have theirs.
Compared to elite agents of organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D., Kingpin's men were inconsistent in skill—but their sheer numbers made them formidable.
Hawkeye gathered information everywhere—chatting with tattooed street performers, random locals, even suspicious figures.
Dressed in a tight leather jacket, carrying a bow and quiver, he stood out like a flashlight in the dark.
Eventually, he intercepted "top-secret" intel about a major Kingpin business deal.
Arlington, Virginia
"General Ross, this might interest you. In Milwaukee, a civilian drank a bottle of guarana soda and displayed abnormal vitality. We suspect gamma radiation exposure."
A staff member handed a report to Thunderbolt Ross, who was smoking a cigar.
"What?!"
Ross shot to his feet, energized.
To him, this was like water in a desert.
"Where was the soda bottled?"
"Brazil—Porto Port."
Ross immediately ordered an investigation, instructing agents to locate a specific suspect.
After the staff member left, his eyes sharpened.
At first, his pursuit of the Hulk had been about duty—honor, responsibility, mission.
But as his daughter repeatedly pleaded for Bruce Banner, it became personal.
What father could accept his daughter marrying a monster that might lose control at any moment?
Love? Between different species?
Unacceptable.
He would never allow a "green monster" into his family.
Over time, as his capture attempts failed again and again, his motives changed.
He became obsessed—not with justice, but with the Hulk's destructive power.
Capturing the Hulk was no longer just a mission or personal vendetta—
It had become his lifelong obsession.