Chapter 131: The Collection Game

Returning to his normal work routine, Sean found himself buried under mountains of documents and postponed meetings...

At Umbrella Labs, Dr. Connors, his fellow administrator, was a pure scientist who focused solely on research and experiments, offering little help beyond academic matters.

As the lab expanded and collaborations with Oscorp and Stark Industries deepened, the sheer volume of trivial affairs threatened to overwhelm Sean...

Even with Skynet's assistance, these matters still consumed a significant portion of his time and energy. This made him seriously consider Harry's earlier suggestion... perhaps it was time to hire a secretary or assistant to share the burden.

However, this position was far too critical to be filled carelessly. If Gwen hadn't been uninterested, Sean would have gladly chosen the diligent, straightforward blonde girl for the role.

Buried in paperwork, the young man lamented his shallow foundation... not enough manpower, and a lack of trustworthy subordinates.

Magneto's Brotherhood wasn't yet ready to be utilized, requiring more time. As for the Professor's well-behaved students, they certainly wouldn't be willing to serve as his enforcers.

Currently, his only reliable assets were Elektra's Hand and Wesley from Hell's Kitchen. But as his status rose, so did the caliber of his opponents.

The bright young man had long since moved past the bloody, brutal phase of primitive accumulation... street gangs and underworld organizations could no longer keep up with his pace.

After efficiently wrapping up his tasks, Sean toyed with a pen, consoling himself, 'The road to success is always long and bumpy. Opportunity favors the prepared...'

At the very least, he had already tied many people to his chariot. If the next phase of his plan succeeded, Umbrella might even extend its reach into the military-industrial sector.

With Stark Industries' exit from the field, the previously suppressed Hammer Industries had seized the opportunity, acquiring factories sold off by their old rival and preparing to secure massive profits from Department of Defense contracts.

Unfortunately, Justin Hammer, the company's leader, lacked a genius intellect, and Hammer Industries' technical capabilities were laughable. Were it not for his substantial backing, vast financial resources, and army of researchers, the company would never have gained a foothold in the military-industrial arena.

"Monaco..." Sean smiled faintly, recalling Tony's mention of attending a Formula One club event, "He should thank me."

This time, Tony wouldn't encounter his old nemesis, Whiplash. The heavily tattooed Russian had nearly pushed the arrogant Iron Man to the brink in the original timeline.

Driven by a family vendetta, Ivan Vanko had ambushed Tony during the Monaco Grand Prix with self-made plasma whips, humiliating the armored hero. Later, Justin Hammer secretly sprung him from prison, employing him as a weapons designer to replicate the Iron Man suit.

Born in Russia, Ivan had lacked proper education and nurturing. Yet despite harsh conditions, he had managed to recreate Tony's arc reactor and enhance it into devastating plasma whips. His ability to single-handedly challenge Iron Man spoke volumes about his extraordinary talent.

Sean needed precisely this kind of talent. He relished collecting those who had been stifled by circumstances or led astray by their experiences, like playing a card-collecting game. Compared to the victors and heroes of the original storyline, he far preferred ambitious, risk-taking antagonists.

In many ways, they were more driven and easier to motivate with benefits than superheroes.

Glancing at his watch, Sean estimated that the father-son duo with a deep grudge against the Starks should have already arrived in New York. Half a month prior, he had dispatched agents to track them down in Russia...

...

Two hours later, Sean welcomed his guests in his office...

Gwen, temporarily acting as secretary, escorted the Vankos into Umbrella. The pale, gaunt old man sat in a wheelchair, a thick blanket draped over his lap. Behind him loomed a burly, unruly giant like a Russian brown bear, his eyes sharp and defiant.

"Welcome to Umbrella." Sean smiled warmly, shaking the old man's hand, "I've heard of your reputation. General Ross once ranked you alongside Howard Stark as one of the rarest geniuses."

At the mention of his enemy, the frail man suddenly gripped Sean's arm...

Anton Vanko had once been a Soviet physicist who defected to the U.S. in 1963, meeting Howard Stark who was already a military-industrial tycoon. Together, they had worked on advanced energy sources for powerful new weapons.

But four years later, Anton was accused of espionage and deported. Stripped of his research, reputation, and status, he returned to Russia in disgrace. After the Soviet Union's collapse, the political turmoil left the once-great physicist in poverty, his past work for the U.S. government making life even harder.

"I never imagined I'd set foot on this land again," the old man whispered, his trembling voice thick with bitterness.

He should have shared glory and wealth with Howard Stark. Stark Industries, now an industry titan, should have been half his. Instead, he had been robbed of everything, forced to slink back to Russia like a stray dog, living out his days in misery.

"I know your story. The world is full of injustice, and fate rarely favors those with true talent," Sean said sympathetically, "I, too, started with nothing. So I understand your pain, Dr. Vanko. A new future awaits you."

Releasing the old man's hand, Sean studied him. Anton Vanko and Tony's father had developed the prototype of the arc reactor, though material limitations had stalled progress.

As a shrewd capitalist, Howard had recognized the invention's potential and used his connections to eliminate Anton, whose questionable background made him an easy target.

"Thank you, Mr. Cyphers!" Anton said gratefully, pulling his son forward, "This is my boy, Ivan! He's even more gifted than I was. Though he has... a troubled past, I swear he won't cause you any trouble!"

The bear-like Russian crouched slightly, transforming into a docile lamb before his frail father, suppressing his usual dangerous aura.

"I'm aware of Ivan's history. During the Soviet era, he sold weapons-grade plutonium to Pakistan and was sentenced to 15 years in Kopeysk Prison... But that doesn't matter. What young man hasn't made mistakes? Even I did reckless things in high school to prove my courage... everyone has childish phases."

Sean's gaze settled on the muscular Ivan Vanko, the future Whiplash. This man was the true prize, his trump card for securing military favor and contracts.

After some small talk with the elderly Anton, Gwen wheeled him to a restroom. The long journey and his frail health left him like a candle in the wind, flickering weakly.

Alone in the office with Ivan, Sean faced the Russian's unrestrained ferocity. The man stared at him like a predator, "I'm not some fool you can trick or buy off. Thinking a few dollars can trade for my father's life's work? Too naive."

unbothered by the man's rudeness, Sean replied, "At the very least, I can restore your family's honor and give you a fair shot at defeating Stark," He extended his hand, "I believe in fair deals. Mutual benefit."

The rough-faced Ivan hesitated. If this young man wasn't scheming, he wouldn't mind offering genuine gratitude...

As their hands clasped, the tattooed Russian who looked more like a mob boss frowned. Facing Sean felt like standing before a towering mountain that radiated overwhelming pressure.

"To a pleasant partnership," the young man said, releasing his grip with a warm smile...

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