'New York City - The Gobi Desert Set'
Marvel Entertainment had just expanded into a massive, newly built, independent production studio in Manhattan.
The soundstage was dead quiet, perfectly dressed to resemble a dusty, grimy cave in Afghanistan. Tony Stark, sporting a flawless layer of fake dirt and a look of manufactured, desperate panic, scrambled across the sandy set. As a pair of extras dressed as military operatives "rescued" him, Tony reached into his tattered jacket and pulled out a glossy, perfectly pristine comic magazine.
With a face full of exaggerated, tearful joy—the pure vicissitudes of relief—he held the magazine up to the camera. "It was 'Weekly Shonen Jump' that gave me the motivation to survive! It inspired my dedication to freedom, and made me understand that Marvel Comics are the absolute must-read masterpieces of a lifetime!"
"And... cut!" the commercial director yelled from the sidelines, hurriedly clapping his hands. "That's a wrap, everyone!"
The moment Tony heard the director call cut, his faux tears vanished instantly. He tossed the magazine back into the waiting hands of his assistant, Pepper Potts, and marched straight over to Light Inksworth, who had been watching the shoot from a director's chair.
"What kind of messy lines are those?" Tony complained, aggressively wiping the fake dirt off his face with a towel. "That is the most stupid, humiliating advertisement I have ever seen in my life."
"It's a pity you agreed to play the idiot in this advertisement yourself," Light replied, spreading his hands helplessly, a sly smirk on his face. "I think the performance was very authentic."
Behind Tony, Pepper Potts couldn't contain herself. She snorted, covering her mouth to hide her smile.
Tony shook his head, shooting Pepper a mild glare before turning back to Light with a thoroughly charming, billion-dollar smile.
"I only said those shameful lines to give you face, kid," Tony said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "So, how about you lend me that pink door frame to study for a few days?"
As soon as Tony had returned to American soil, he had J.A.R.V.I.S. dig up absolutely everything on 'Marvel Entertainment'. The final result was baffling: it was just a comic book publishing company. Yet, the owner possessed technology that defied the laws of physics.
"Don't even think about it," Light waved his hand dismissively. "That door stays with me. And this advertisement was the price for your life. It's too vulgar to talk about 'face' when debts are being paid."
Light stood up and patted Tony on the shoulder. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, foil-wrapped cookie shaped like a cartoon bear.
"Here. This is the Little Bear Biscuit I promised you. Go back and eat it. It's the only one in the world."
Light stuffed the magical gag-item cookie into Tony's designer jacket pocket, leaving the billionaire completely bewildered.
'What the hell?' Tony thought, staring at the pocket. 'I'm trying to discuss groundbreaking quantum spatial warping technology with you, and you hand me a single animal cracker?!'
"Really, you won't find a biscuit like this sold anywhere else," Light promised smoothly.
Tony Stark was a notoriously arrogant academic bully. If he didn't respect your intellect, he wouldn't give you the time of day. But Light had earned his absolute attention. Hooked by the mystery of the teenager's technology, Tony had personally sought out the Marvel studio address the moment he recovered.
Light, of course, welcomed Tony's proactive approach. A corporate partnership with Stark Industries was invaluable. Besides, despite his ego, Tony was an interesting guy to have around.
The two of them walked out of the studio, walking shoulder-to-shoulder toward the executive offices like old friends.
Not far away, Natasha Romanoff watched their retreating backs, a deep frown marring her flawless features. After doing a quick visual patrol to ensure she wasn't being followed, she slipped into a single-occupancy bathroom and locked the door. She reached into the cuff of her sleeve, retrieved a microscopic black earpiece, and slipped it into her ear.
"Director, I have something important to report."
"What's the situation, Romanoff? Have you found any clues?" Nick Fury's gruff voice crackled over the secure line.
"There are no direct clues regarding the target's power yet," Natasha reported, keeping her voice low. "But Tony Stark just visited Light Inksworth. They shot a promotional advertisement together."
As an elite undercover agent, Natasha had memorized Light's entire background file. According to S.H.I.E.L.D. data, Light and Stark had absolutely zero prior communication, and their respective industries were worlds apart. How did they suddenly know each other? They had never even been photographed in the same room before today.
Back on the Helicarrier, the one-eyed Director felt a knot form in his stomach. Fury was already laying the groundwork for the 'Avengers Initiative', intending to recruit Tony Stark into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s orbit. Now, Stark was inexplicably tied to a potential reality-warper.
It was a logistical nightmare.
'If they're collaborating, it complicates everything,' Fury thought grimly.
He steadied his breathing and spoke into the comms with a soft, cautious tone. "Perhaps Tony's miraculous escape from the desert is directly related to Light Inksworth. If that is the case, Natasha, you must pay extreme attention to your own safety. Do not provoke him."
"Understood," Natasha responded.
She removed the earpiece, slipping it back into her sleeve, and flushed the toilet for cover. She walked out to the sinks, washing her hands and seamlessly adjusting her facial expression to match that of a bored office assistant returning from a bathroom break.
'New York City - Edward Vance's Apartment'
Today was new comic release day. As the undisputed king of Marvel comic critics, Edward Vance was staring intensely at the foreword of the latest 'Weekly Shonen Jump'.
His face lit up with an expression of pure, unadulterated excitement. He quickly opened Twitter, his fingers clattering across his mechanical keyboard as he fired off a new thread.
@EdwardV_Reviews:
['Weekly Shonen Jump' is facing a massive formatting revision. Many fans might be confused, so here is a clear breakdown.]
Edward went on to explain the company's new strategy: transitioning popular titles into independent, serialized 'Tankōbon' volumes to accelerate the plot, while outlining the pros and cons for the readers' wallets.
@EdwardV_Reviews:
[Although the release schedule is ultimately controlled by the Chairman and the artist, the new monthly voting function in the magazine allows us, the fans, to actively participate in deciding which books get the standalone treatment!]
@EdwardV_Reviews:
[And finally, the moment of excitement for all 'One Punch Man' fans has arrived. Hurry up and open the official Marvel website platform to watch our bald hero Saitama execute absolute justice! The anime is live!]
The comments section flooded like a rising ocean, pushing his older reviews to the bottom of the feed.
Usually, Edward didn't review the same comic every single week to avoid spoiling the ongoing plot for casual readers. He preferred to wait for emotional breaking points. Since most of the current series were still in their world-building phases, he focused his critical eye elsewhere.
"Jump has released two new comics to fill the roster," Edward muttered, stroking his chin as he flipped the glossy pages. "Let's see. 'One Piece' and 'Fairy Tail'."
He looked at the first chapter of 'One Piece'. The protagonist, Luffy, stretched his arms across the panel like rubber.
'A rubber man? What a strange concept. A bit like Mr. Fantastic,' Edward mused.
The title was straightforward—he knew it was about pirates. But what puzzled Edward was the protagonist. Luffy's disposition was inherently good, joyful, and deeply loyal. Could a kid like that truly survive as a ruthless pirate?
'Could it be possible that he will be horribly abused later in the story?' Edward theorized, his critic brain overanalyzing the tropes. 'Will he learn to harbor deep hatred, drastically change his personality, knock down the evil pirates, and then be crowned a dark, anti-hero king?'
Edward shook his head. He knew he couldn't figure out Light Inksworth's wild imagination just yet. He turned to the next new comic.
'Fairy Tail.'
The opening chapter heavily established the world's background: the complex relationship between wizards, magical guilds, and sovereign nations.
Edward wasn't surprised by a magic setting; plenty of traditional superhero comics dealt with sorcery. But the magic system presented here was incredibly peculiar.
Dragon-Slaying magic that involved literally eating elements and vomiting destructive roars? Ice-Make magic that shaped weapons out of freezing air? Celestial Spirit magic summoning beings from other dimensions? Edward looked completely bewildered.
Why was this magic so radically different from the mystical, spell-chanting sorcery he was used to seeing from characters like Doctor Strange?
Deciding the beginnings were too novel to fully dissect without causing premature heated debates online, Edward set 'Jump' aside. He would review them later.
He reached for the newly launched sister magazine: 'Weekly Shonen Sunday'.
When he looked at the cover, he was genuinely shocked. It wasn't that the art was breathtakingly exquisite—in fact, Edward knew exactly what the definition of this new magazine was supposed to be.
But the character on the cover of 'JoJo's Bizarre Adventure' was drawn in a style that looked... ancient.
Whether it was the hyper-dynamic action of 'Jump', the simple, rounded youthfulness of 'Doraemon', or the gritty realism of 'The Terminator', Light Inksworth's art was always beautiful. But this 'JoJo' style was incredibly rough, heavily inked, and ridiculously muscular. It made Edward feel like he was looking at a first-edition print run of a golden-age 'Captain America' comic.
He opened the pages. The interior art was just as rough and imposing as the cover. 'Did Light really draw this?' Edward wondered.
He pushed through the pain in his eyes and kept reading.
After just a few pages, his eyes practically popped out of his skull.
"Fuck! What the hell is this?!" Edward yelled, gripping the magazine tightly.
"You thought your first kiss was JoJo... but it was me, Dio!"
Edward was absolutely floored. The sheer, unadulterated melodrama and unique paneling had hooked him instantly.
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Word count: 1684
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