"Mr. Stark, if you keep staring at my date, I might get a little angry."
While shaking hands with Harry, Tony stared fixedly at Hurley, who was standing to the side, which left Harry feeling somewhat helpless.
"Uh, of course, sorry, but what's her name? She looks like she might be mixed-race?" Tony turned his head.
"Hurley Kai, she has some Asian heritage. Don't get any ideas; your date is still waiting for you over there."
Harry pointed toward Pepper not far away, and Tony stared blankly again.
"Thanks for the reminder. I'm going to go talk to her about something now. Excuse me."
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Hurley, who was snickering to the side.
"This dress looks familiar. Is it the one we bought in Italy?"
"No, it was that time in France. You were a gentleman back then—or should I say, a minor." Hurley shrugged, "Your performance doesn't seem very conducive to the development of our relationship, forgetting such an important thing."
Thinking about it carefully, it did seem that way.
At that time, Hurley was still working on her business degree, around eighteen or nineteen years old, and he was quite young himself, only fifteen.
But now he was only eighteen.
Just as the two were reminiscing, a man with a somewhat receding hairline walked over with a smile.
"Mr. Osborn."
"Who are you?" Harry scrutinized the man and immediately understood his identity.
"Agent Coulson. Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." Coulson nodded and greeted the two.
"An Agent? Looks like I need to step away." Hurley looked at the two and patted Harry on the shoulder.
"Don't hang out with Stark, and don't accept anyone's invitations. Just sit to the side like a lady, okay?"
Harry's words earned him an eye-roll—there was no help for it, it was quite hard for him to change his way of thinking.
"So, Agent Coulson, what does this'so-and-so' department want to talk about? I thought you were here to see Stark today."
Coulson took out a satellite image, which appeared to be of a suburb somewhere in New York, with a blurry little black dot in the picture.
"The night before last, we detected an unidentified high-speed flying object from a satellite. According to the images, it seems to have departed from your residence in the New York suburbs."
Harry looked at the picture and smiled.
"I don't know where you got this image, but it's fake, digitally altered, and has nothing to do with me."
In truth, the image forgery technology was very sophisticated, and Harry couldn't tell it was fake at all.
But the problem was that there was only one flying object in the picture.
You have to understand that that night, he and Tony had a supersonic race, and Tony had already taken care of the satellite issues before his test flight—by sheer coincidence, this had also provided cover for Harry, so S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't have captured their race.
Coulson was a bit dumbfounded: they had been experts at deception for so many years, so how was it that when it came to Harry, he denied them directly without a moment's hesitation?
"By the way, you said you were from the Strategic... whatever... Division, right? I want to report something."
Harry took out his phone and opened the New York City power grid layout map.
"Recently, while maintaining the power grid, I noticed some issues with power consumption in these few areas. So, I investigated in detail and found that starting from these spots, electrical energy was being concentrated into a mysterious zone."
Harry drew a circle on the map.
As Harry made the motion, cold sweat began to pour down Coulson's face.
"Here. The power consumption is incredibly high—according to my calculations, someone might be conducting underground operations here, but I checked, and the New York municipal government has no such construction plans. I'm considering whether I should report this."
Coulson screamed in his heart: Stop talking! Stop talking!
"But since it seems your responsibilities include homeland security, I'll just tell you. After all, the water seems very deep here, and I'm just an ordinary entrepreneur. Agent Coulson, what's wrong?"
Coulson wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"This is a very serious issue! Thank you for the information; we will begin investigating this matter immediately!"
Harry smiled; he had them right where he wanted them.
S.H.I.E.L.D. is affiliated with the United Nations, but it's actually a very poor organization, at least for now.
But its head is a paranoid, and a mole, who feels unsafe without a secret Base—he's probably out there scrounging for money to dig holes underground right now.
In other words, it's something that can't see the light of day, especially at a time when threats aren't apparent.
"Then I'll leave it to you. If you don't mind, I'm going to go enjoy the banquet."
The banquet soon drew to a close.
After dancing, Harry began drinking at the bar.
"Two vodka martinis, not sweet, extra olives, make it quick." Tony walked over, looking like he was getting drinks for Pepper.
"We meet again. Where's your date?" Stark noticed Harry and took the initiative to strike up a conversation.
"Over there," Harry pointed into the distance, where Hurley was chatting with someone by the fountain. "And yours?"
"Outside." Stark suddenly frowned, "Haven't we met somewhere before? Your voice sounds very familiar."
Harry smiled and didn't answer.
"Wow, Tony Stark, and the new director of Stark Industries, Harry Osborn. Both of you are here; are you discussing some big business deal?" A lady joined the conversation.
Harry didn't speak and glanced at Tony, only to see him stammering, staring fixedly at the lady as if trying to recall something.
"Christine." The lady helped Tony recall.
"Right, it's Christine." Tony nodded awkwardly.
And Harry remembered her too; she had come to hold them accountable, as Stark Industries had recently been involved in a scandal.
Hearing this news, Tony was naturally a bit dumbfounded; you have to know that since he returned, he had been stuck in the mountains for several months.
So he looked at Harry.
"In a small town called Gulmira, militants were found possessing weapons stamped with the Stark Industries logo." Harry took the drink the bartender had prepared, "It's that one you invented, is it called Jericho or something?"
"Jericho." Tony's face was full of disbelief, "Let me see the photos."
In the photo, a group of militants stood in front of the camera, with panicked civilians in front of them, and weapons stamped with the Stark logo behind them.
"Yeah, the photo was taken yesterday. I've seen it." Harry leaned in as well.
"What's going on? I never approved this." Tony looked at Harry, "Does this have anything to do with you? You're the new guy; we never had these kinds of problems before."
Facing Tony's questioning, Harry swirled his glass.
"I thought you would have accepted the facts back in Afghanistan, Tony. Stark has been doing this for more than just a day or two."
Harry's words left Tony unable to retort; he had seen those weapons with his own eyes!
"Besides, do you know why there hasn't been a word about this?"
Harry took out his phone and opened an internal Stark Industries document.
It proposed removing Tony Stark from management, retaining only his equity.
Signed by: Obadiah Stane.
"If you don't believe me, you can go ask him yourself; he's right outside."