The nights in Malibu were hotter than the days.
Actually, to be more precise, the temperature in the master bedroom of the Stark mansion was abnormally high.
Níðhöggr, having returned from Afghanistan, handed Tony Stark over to Happy Hogan and the emergency medical team. Immediately after, he approached the waiting Pepper Potts.
To her, overwhelmed by a mixture of relief and terror at seeing her boss return from the brink of death, Níðhöggr’s decadent beauty and crimson eyes were an irresistible trap.
"Don't worry, gorgeous. That tin man is quite persistent; he’ll be up in no time. However..."
Níðhöggr whispered as he gently wrapped his arm around Pepper's waist.
The waves of 'Charm' radiating from his body shattered Pepper’s reason into pieces.
"Don’t you think it’s time you received some comfort as well?"
Pepper’s eyes instantly lost focus. Her previous embarrassment was nowhere to be found.
She wrapped her arms around Níðhöggr's neck like a person parched with thirst.
The heat of a dragon was on a different dimension compared to the heat of a human.
Their steps toward the bed were unhesitating, and that night, the soundproofing of the Malibu mansion failed to perform its duty.
The next morning.
Tony Stark, who had an arc reactor embedded in his chest and had finished emergency treatment for the bruises covering his body, refused a wheelchair. Propped up by a cane, he made his way toward his bedroom.
After having survived certain death, the first thing he wanted to see was his only sanctuary, the woman who had waited for him—Pepper Potts.
"Pepper? I’m back. Did you buy the cheeseburgers? I’m so hungry right now..."
Click.
The door opened, and what entered Tony’s vision was a sight more shocking than any act of terrorism he had ever experienced.
On the bed, amidst the silk sheets, Níðhöggr lay with his messy black hair cascading down and his upper body exposed. Beside him, Pepper—in a state of disarray that would usually be unimaginable—slept peacefully.
At the sound of the door opening, Níðhöggr languidly opened his eyes and gave Tony a mysterious smirk.
"Oh, Wallet... I mean, Mr. Stark. You're up early?"
Tony Stark froze on the spot. It felt as if JARVIS was ringing tens of thousands of warning lights inside his brain.
'Stop thinking, Tony. This is a hallucination. The anesthesia from Afghanistan hasn't worn off, or my arc reactor is sending faulty electrical signals to my brain. That monster who breathes fire is in bed with my secretary... No, that can't be it.'
Tony squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.
But reality was cruel. Níðhöggr stretched conspicuously, showing off his toned, muscular physique.
"HEY!!! You crazy reptile son of a bitch!!!"
Just then, Ratatoskr’s thunderous shout erupted from the living room area.
Ratatoskr, the large man who had kicked the door open, saw the scene on the bed and clutched his own head.
"Nid! You total loser! I told you to stop doing this shitty stuff and hurry up with the settlement! Why can't you keep it in your pants every time we come to a different planet? Look at that human woman's face—you’ve sucked her soul bone-dry!"
At Ratatoskr's curse-laden reproach, Pepper groggily opened her eyes.
The moment she processed the situation, she screamed and dove under the covers. Tony clutched his chest with trembling hands.
"In my... In my house... On my bed... With my secretary... JARVIS, I think I'm having a heart attack."
[Sir, your heart rate has exceeded 180. Please regulate the arc reactor's output.]
One hour later, in the living room.
The atmosphere was beyond cold; it was nearing absolute zero. Tony sat on the sofa wearing a shirt buttoned up to his neck (to hide the shock he received from Pepper), while Pepper, her face red enough to explode, sat with her head hung low, stirring her coffee.
Opposite them, Níðhöggr sat with his legs crossed in the most arrogant posture imaginable. Ratatoskr stood beside him, arms crossed and huffing with annoyance.
"Alright, stop the throat-clearing."
Níðhöggr spoke first. He pulled a crudely torn piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.
"It's the invoice for the rescue. Read it."
Tony picked up the paper with an incredulous expression.
On it, ridiculous items were written in crooked handwriting.
[Níðhöggr & Ratatoskr Service Group Receipt]
Portal Generation to Afghanistan: $500 million (Business Class standard)
Breath Emission Fee (1 usage): $1 billion (Carbon credits not included)
Ho Yinsen’s Funeral Support and Emotional Labor Fee: $200 million
Ratatoskr’s Consolation Fee for Bickering with JARVIS: $100 million
Níðhöggr’s Decadent Aura Rental Fee: Market Price (Negotiation required)
Total: $2.5 Billion + @
Tony Stark let out a hollow laugh as he finished reading the paper.
"$2.5 billion? Are you joking? I may be the richest man in the world, but this is straight-up robbery! And what is this 'Decadent Aura Rental Fee'? You do that with my secretary and then expect me to pay for it?"
"Hey! You bearded human!"
Ratatoskr slammed his hand on the table, leaving a clear palm print embedded in the surface.
"When our Nid fires a single Breath, a whole mountain disappears! Do you know how hard I worked using my energy by his side to keep that under control? Besides, we are villains who were born to ruin worlds! A villain says he wants money—what's there to talk about? You want me to turn this whole house into an acorn storage bin?!"
"Rata, calm down. I am a gentlemanly villain."
Níðhöggr smiled leisurely and stared at Tony.
"Mr. Stark, surely you don't think your life is only worth $2.5 billion? If you had died, this company would have collapsed, and that lovely secretary would have spent every night in tears. By saving you, I have essentially preserved the peace. Isn't this a bargain?"
"Peace? The terrorists were turned to dust by the fire you spat! That was a massacre!"
"What's the problem with a villain killing villains? I simply did a little 'cleaning' in my own way."
Níðhöggr leaned forward, looking Tony straight in the eye.
"Also, I have another proposal besides the cash. Those 'toys' you make—they’re quite interesting. It’s technology we don’t have in Yggdrasil. If you find the money wasteful, provide a place for Ratatoskr and me to stay in this house along with an unlimited credit card. Then I'll give you a discount on that $2.5 billion."
Tony Stark’s mind raced.
If he let these monsters loose, there was no telling what kind of disaster they would cause.
Just as JARVIS had warned, they were essentially walking nuclear bombs.
It might be better to keep them right where he could see them.
"Fine. Take the entire guest wing on the second floor. I'll give you a card. But I have conditions."
Tony gritted his teeth as he glanced at Pepper.
"First, no approaching within one meter of my secretary. Second, no breathing fire inside the house. Third, the big guy doesn't bully JARVIS."
"Hey! That tin can started it—!"
As Ratatoskr tried to protest, Níðhöggr raised a hand to stop him.
"Fine, it's a deal. Rich people really are easy to talk to."
Níðhöggr stood up, looking satisfied.
He blew a wink at Pepper and headed up the stairs.
"Gorgeous, I'll have French for lunch. And Wallet, I'll make good use of the card!"
Pepper groaned, covering her face, while Tony Stark buried himself deep into the sofa.
"JARVIS... maybe I should have just stayed in that cave."
[Sir, it is already too late. Power consumption in the guest room is spiking. Mr. Níðhöggr has begun purchasing adult channels on the 70-inch television.]
"That damn reptile...!!!"
And so, Tony Stark’s Malibu mansion became the base of operations for the universe's most gullible-turned-noble dragon and a foul-mouthed squirrel.
At the moment the legend of Iron Man began, his side was occupied not by reliable allies, but by a catastrophe that obsessed over money and women.
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register