Chapter 41: Are You Planning to Usurp Him?

[Ding! Your microphone detected ambient noise and automatically increased its volume. Your voice now dominates the venue.] Luke's grin stretched ear to ear. 'Perfect. What more could I ask for?' He cleared his throat, lifted the microphone to his lips, and dropped a metaphorical bomb. "Mr. Stane, everyone knows Tony Stark is the boss of Stark Industries. Yet the moment he leaves the venue, you're up here contradicting him. Tell us, are you planning to usurp him?" The words boomed across the venue, slicing through the chaos like a hot knife through butter. The noise died instantly. And then, boom! An even louder wave of chatter exploded from every corner of the room. Reporters turned as one, eyes wide, desperate to locate the source of the daring accusation. Cameras swung wildly. Microphones thrust into the air. Who was it? Who just said what everyone else was too afraid to? While the world's eyes had been locked on Tony Stark's dramatic exit, Luke had just shifted the spotlight. And the crowd went feral. They weren't just chasing a soundbite anymore, they were chasing a massive scandal. Because, after all... Tony Stark was the CEO. The largest shareholder. The genius who carried the company with his inventions. So why was Obadiah Stane, co-founder and old guard of the company, publicly contradicting him? Was it just a difference of opinion? Or was something deeper simmering? The reporters' minds churned like engines revving at full speed. Theories bloomed. Narratives formed. The pieces clicked. Obadiah had always been in Howard Stark's shadow... and now his son Tony's. A loyal executive? Nah, that doesn't sound like good news. A man with buried resentment and decades of ambition just waiting to strike? Much more interesting. And suddenly, dangerously plausible. Could this have been building for years? Could he have had a hand in Tony's disappearance? The room began to turn. Like sharks scenting blood in the water, the reporters circled in. Microphones flew forward, cameras zoomed in, voices shouted: "Mr. Stane! Care to comment on the accusation just made?" "Why did you contradict Mr. Stark's orders?" "Do you feel overshadowed by Tony Stark's leadership?" "Were you involved in Tony Stark's kidnapping?" ... Obadiah Stane's heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. 'Where the hell did this come from?' He had been careful... extremely careful. He'd never once slipped. Never once said anything that could be traced back to him. Yes, he did want Stark gone. Yes, he had engineered his disappearance. But it was all carefully hidden. Now things were spiraling out of control. And all because of one voice. A voice that had thrown a match into a room full of oil. Obadiah fought hard to maintain his composure. He raised his hands, gave a polished smile, and spoke in his usual syrupy tone. "Let's not jump to conclusions. I'm merely helping clarify Mr. Stark's intentions during this transitional moment. I support our CEO fully." But the words rang hollow. The damage had already been done. Still, he knew how this game worked. The press didn't care about truth, all they cared about was headlines. And he had plenty of tools to fix this. ... Behind his serene smile, Obadiah was fuming. He didn't blame the reporters. This is just how they were, nothing more than the nature of their jobs. And they were tools, useful ones. He'd used them plenty of times himself to sway public opinion, bury bad press, and inflate his image. No, the one he blamed was the instigator. That bastard who threw the grenade and vanished. Obadiah scanned the crowd. But Luke, of course, was already gone. Yet Obadiah had caught a glimpse, just enough. He burned Luke's face into memory. As his security team surrounded him for the exit, he issued orders without turning his head. "Find out the journalist that spoke first. I want a full report." "Start greasing the press. Fifty thousand each, discreet, no delays." The almighty dollar, there was nothing in this world that couldn't be solved with it and if it couldn't, you just weren't using enough. Or that's what he thought... His men nodded and moved. What Obadiah didn't realize was that Luke wasn't even a journalist. ... Meanwhile, Luke was back in his Camaro, lounging in his luxuriously mutated driver's seat like a king on his throne. The interior had adapted to his comfort, warm and supportive, far better than any stock model. He didn't rush. Instead, he casually unlocked his phone and started browsing the web. "Let's see how fast the fire spreads." Despite Obadiah's swift PR sweep, there was no way to undo what had already begun. Some reporters had clearly pushed out the story live, before even stepping foot outside the venue. And not everyone could be bought. Sure, everyone would probably accept the money, but they could always use excuses like saying they had already spread the story and then delete it after getting enough fame, or even go as far as blaming their bosses. In just minutes, headlines were already plastered across social media and independent outlets: [Stark Industries Imploding? Obadiah Stane Suspected of Orchestrating Tony Stark's Kidnapping to Seize Control!] Luke definitely didn't cackle like a cartoon villain, no one can prove it. The word "suspected" did all the heavy lifting, just enough to stoke curiosity, just vague enough to avoid lawsuits. Classic. 'Reporters really are the best chaos agents,' he thought. 'They'll get paid hush money, then leak the story anyway, and still say it was posted "by accident."' He could practically hear Obadiah's blood pressure rising from here. And the best part? He might've just earned himself a few more plot points. ...