Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman

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At the very moment disaster struck the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers, young master Tony Stark was still nestled comfortably in a sea of warmth and beauty, enjoying the attention of the women on either side of him.

Under normal circumstances, if he managed to show up at Stark Industries headquarters for even half a working day, Howard Stark could probably consider it a blessing from heaven.

Most days, Tony overslept in the morning and lost interest in work by the afternoon.

Since the boss didn’t have to punch a time clock, that usually translated into an automatic day off.

Today had originally been shaping up the same way.

But early that morning, Obadiah Stane came rushing over to Tony’s mansion on Long Island.

Tony did own property in Manhattan, but he preferred detached houses with gardens and grounds. As a result, he almost always lived on Long Island and commuted when necessary.

Edwin Jarvis had passed away the previous year and never made it into the new century.

Among the few elders Tony genuinely respected, Obadiah Stane was one of them.

The CEO of Stark Industries was now sitting in the living room, instructing Virginia Potts—the young woman serving as Tony’s personal assistant—to drag the young master out of bed.

Virginia really didn’t want to do that.

There was a high probability that barging into Tony Stark’s bedroom at this hour would expose her to sights she absolutely did not want to see.

So she was already trying to think of excuses to avoid the task.

However, after glancing at the television Obadiah had switched on and seeing the nonstop news coverage scrolling across the screen, she changed her mind.

Arriving outside the master bedroom, Virginia knocked on the door.

”Boss, you need to get up. Something major has happened.”

She repeated herself three times before finally hearing movement inside.

A groggy voice accompanied by a yawn drifted through the door.

”What is it? Aliens invade? Or did Bush lose his mind and press the nuclear launch button?”

”Close enough, boss.”

Virginia took a breath.

”The Twin Towers in Manhattan have collapsed.”

---

Silence.

For a moment, Virginia thought he’d simply fallen asleep again.

Just as she raised her hand to knock once more, the bedroom door suddenly swung open.

Tony Stark stood there in nothing but a bathrobe.

”You mean... not the kind of towers children build on a beach?”

he asked suspiciously.

”Every news channel is reporting the same thing. And Mr. Stane came all the way from Manhattan. He’s downstairs in the living room right now.”

Tony hooked a thumb over his shoulder without even looking back at the two unclothed beauties still sprawled across the bed.

”Get them out.”

Then he charged through his own house in his bathrobe and headed straight for the living room.

Virginia stared irritably at the two women.

One was still sleeping peacefully.

The other had only half awakened.

Without ceremony, Virginia picked up the scattered clothes from the floor and neatly draped them over a chair.

The most troublesome part of the job was always figuring out which underwear belonged with which outfit.

She usually had to guess based on color coordination.

Fortunately, women trying to catch wealthy bachelors generally didn’t wear combinations so bizarre that matching became impossible.

As a result, Virginia rarely got it wrong.

And even if she did?

The women could sort it out themselves after waking up.

It wasn’t as though they could complain to Tony Stark about poor service.

Tony never concerned himself with details like that.

Once the room was reasonably tidy, Virginia strode to the floor-to-ceiling windows and yanked the curtains open.

Blinding sunlight flooded the room.

The effect was immediate.

Both women woke up.

Truthfully, they had been pretending to sleep.

Their plan was to wait for Tony Stark to gently wake them with a kiss.

No matter how much noise had been made earlier, they had kept their eyes shut in anticipation.

Unfortunately, Pepper Potts knew nothing about being gentle.

She ripped the blanket off the bed.

”Ladies, time to wake up. Would you like me to call a taxi for you?”

What followed was predictable chaos.

---

Downstairs, Obadiah Stane wasn’t particularly pleased to see Tony Stark barreling into the living room in a bathrobe.

Still, he said nothing.

Compared to some of the things Tony’s father had done, this didn’t even come close to crossing his red line.

The television remained on.

News coverage of the Twin Towers played on endless repeat.

The same information was being reported over and over again.

Yet everyone continued watching in hopes that something new would emerge.

”What happened?”

Tony asked as he stopped in front of the television.

”What I know is exactly what’s on that screen.”

Obadiah gave him a mild rebuke.

”I don’t know anything you don’t.”

Tony ignored the jab.

”So you were in Manhattan and came straight here afterward. How’s headquarters?”

”Relax. Our building isn’t tall enough for airplanes to hit.”

Obadiah folded his arms.

”Besides the Twin Towers, the Pentagon was attacked using the same method. Another plane crashed somewhere. Rumor says it was headed for either the White House or the Capitol.”

”Deliberate?”

”It’s difficult to crash into those places by accident.”

Skyscrapers around the world weren’t built wherever people pleased.

The existence of air traffic meant that flight corridors and airport approaches were carefully planned to prevent exactly this sort of incident from occurring due to pilot error.

Under normal circumstances, a commercial airliner colliding with a skyscraper was nearly impossible.

Any pilot who strayed dangerously off course would be bombarded with corrections from air traffic control until the mistake was fixed.

Unless the pilot himself was the problem.

Tony dropped onto a sofa and asked for a strong cup of coffee.

The reason he could live such a carefree life was that most terrible things remained distant rumors.

But when tragedy unfolded directly before his eyes, he took it seriously.

---

The uncle and nephew spent the next while discussing what impact the attacks might have on Stark Industries and on the United States as a whole.

Their perspective differed greatly from that of ordinary citizens.

As leaders of a corporate empire, their concern was how to respond strategically—and how to benefit from the situation.

In this context, ”benefit” didn’t simply mean money.

It also encompassed reputation, goodwill, public image, and every other tangible or intangible asset.

Even if a course of action resulted in financial losses, it might still be worthwhile if it generated positive effects elsewhere.

After all, wasn’t that the logic behind both charitable campaigns and advertising?

Meanwhile, the two women who had just been expelled from Tony’s bedroom passed through the living room on their way out.

They attempted to greet the billionaire and perhaps secure another meeting in the future.

Unfortunately for them, Pepper was right behind them, herding them toward the door.

The women kept calling out greetings as they walked.

Tony didn’t even glance in their direction.

Wasn’t that clear enough?

The phrase ”cold the moment it’s over” hardly seemed sufficient to describe it.

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