"If I try to argue back with words, it feels like I'd just be stepping straight into a debate trap you've carefully laid out. But to completely ignore what you just said… that's not easy for either."
"Miss Gwen, speaking of debates… do you know where debates originally ca from?"
Without waiting for Gwen to answer, Blake continued in a calm yet cutting tone.
"The origins of debate in the Eastern world can be traced back more than two thousand five hundred years. In China's long history alone, countless renowned debaters erged."
"With nothing but their tongues and logic, they could decide the fate of an entire nation—whether it prospered or fell to ruin. The lives and deaths of tens of thousands depended on a single debate. All of this is clearly recorded in legitimate historical records."
"Great figures like those, along with their astonishing stories, are nearly impossible to count across thousands of years of civilization."
"Because of that, as inheritors of such a rich history and culture, Asians—naturally—tend to act with composure and careful consideration. Our ancestors taught us sothing important: 'Among three people walking together, one is surely my teacher.' So we take the good from others and make it our own."
"That saying ans everyone has their own strengths. If we're willing to learn from others, we can continue to grow. This is a principle of life our ancestors formulated more than two millennia ago."
"History also teaches us not to beco frogs trapped at the bottom of a well. Above the sky, there is always another sky, and beyond humanity, there are always those who are superior… principles like these are scattered throughout our culture."
"As for a country like Arica—a nation that's existed for barely two centuries, with history books that might only be a few pages thick—it's naturally difficult to find ideas like these there. But…"
Blake shrugged slightly and looked directly at Gwen.
"But one thing you said is true. Debate isn't my specialty. When there's conflict, I prefer resolving it with strength."
After saying that, Blake didn't wait for Gwen's response. He lifted his right foot and calmly stepped down onto the school courtyard floor made of concrete mixed with gravel.
A faint vibration spread outward.
Then Blake turned around and walked toward the main campus building.
Gwen remained frozen where she stood. Both of her hands covered her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at the footprint Blake had left behind—sunken more than ten centiters into the solid surface.
At the center of the imprint, the Nike logo on the sole of his shoe was perfectly visible.
Was he… warning ?
If I caused trouble for him… would he really hit ?
The thought slipped into her mind, and for the first ti in her life, Gwen Stacy—the daughter of the New York Police Commissioner—felt her eyes grow hot. A thin layer of moisture gathered at the corners.
Since childhood, no man had ever dared to intimidate her like this.
And yet… her original intention had only been to get to know Blake better. She had rely spoken a bit carelessly, used to never being rejected. But did it really warrant frightening her to this extent?
At this mont, Gwen could only bite her lip, overwheld by an unbearable sense of pressure and suffocation.
— — —
anwhile, Blake was storing his belongings in his school locker. He had just taken out the books and laptop he would need for the day when a piece of news he'd heard the night before surfaced in his mind.
"Tony Stark of Stark Industries wins Person of the Year award in Las Vegas!"
If his mory was correct, this was the opening scene of the first Iron Man movie. That ant that before long, Tony Stark would build the very first version of the Iron Man Armor.
Iron Man Armor…
Aside from the crude first model Stark built in that cave, the later versions all looked undeniably cool.
Even if the armor wouldn't provide Blake with any direct boost to his combat power right now, it still possessed trendous aesthetic value.
More importantly, becoming close friends with soone like Tony Stark would clearly bring massive benefits.
At the very least, with Stark's genius, he might be able to help Blake build sothing like… a gravity training chamber.
Because of that, one question ford in Blake's mind:
Should I help that playboy while he's suffering in Afghanistan?
It didn't take long for him to decide.
Blake would imdiately sell all of his Stark Industries shares.
Then, he would open short positions.
If he waited until the news of Tony Stark being kidnapped by terrorists in Afghanistan spread, Stark Industries' stock price would undoubtedly plumt.
Even worse, after returning from captivity, Tony would announce at a press conference that Stark Industries would be shutting down all weapons projects and military trade.
That decision alone would send the stock crashing down once again.
Of course, later on, Stark would release new energy technology and advanced versions of the Iron Man armor, which would push the company's value back up. But anyone who understood the stock market knew this:
If you could take advantage of an information gap like this, enormous wealth could be gained in an instant.
With the funds Blake currently possessed, even without using leverage, he could exit this cycle as one of the major shareholders of Stark Industries.
That thought prompted Blake to head straight to the school rooftop, laptop and phone in hand.
He began logging into dozens of his stock trading accounts while contacting his personal bank account manager.
"Anthony, how much liquid capital can I use in my personal accounts right now?"
The voice on the other end replied familiarly,
"Oh~ my respected Financial Deity, Mr. Blake, please allow a mont to check…"
A few seconds later, the manager's voice returned.
"After deducting fixed deposits and long-term investnts, your available cash is currently 1,356,386,727 dollars."
Then he added,
"As a premium client, JP Morgan Chase is also willing to offer you an interest-free loan of 300 million dollars for one month. If you require more, we'd only need a small interest fee and administrative access to your stock accounts."
Blake replied flatly,
"Thank you for Morgan Chase's generosity. Please imdiately allocate all available cash, including the 300 million loan, into all stock accounts I've attached previously. Distribute it evenly."
Without waiting for a response, Blake ended the call.
Trying to profit off with just a little interest? Too naive.
Even though his investnt plan was rather "crazy," who could guarantee the information wouldn't leak? If the bank started copying his trades, wouldn't that simply benefit others instead?
anwhile, on the upper floors of Morgan Tower in Wall Street, Manhattan, New York—
Anthony Coleshaw, a senior manager at Morgan Chase, stared at the phone that had just gone dead, his brows tightly furrowed.
Although he had only t Blake once, that young man of Asian descent had left an exceptionally deep impression on him.
Especially because the amount of capital flowing through Blake's stock accounts kept increasing at an alarming rate.
Morgan Chase had long wanted to establish a cooperative relationship with him, but Blake had always kept his distance. Every invitation they sent went unanswered.
But this ti… Anthony's intuition told him sothing was different.
If Blake—who normally never deployed all of his funds at once—suddenly mobilized everything he had, then a massive move was surely coming.
With more than a billion dollars in liquid assets, and dozens of stock accounts that might already be holding valuable positions, it wasn't impossible that Blake would inject over ten billion dollars into his next investnt.
As long as… he didn't move all his funds to another bank.
Anthony let out a slow breath and proceeded to allocate the funds according to Blake's request. After that, he picked up the phone receiver, preparing to contact his superior—
ira Rothschild, one of the most influential figures within Morgan Chase.
— — —
At the sa ti, on the very top floor of the grand Morgan Building—inside an office so vast it felt almost unreal—a young blonde woman sat calmly at the center of the room.
Her features were refined and elegant, yet her expression carried a cold, distant edge.
As she listened to Anthony's report over the phone, ira Rothschild gently rubbed her temple, then spoke in an even, composed tone.
"I've reviewed the capital movents in that account. If all of that wealth was truly generated purely from the stock market, then Morgan Chase must make him an ally."
She paused briefly, thinking, before continuing,
"Anthony, I'm granting you authority over one billion dollars. Call him back. Tell him that as long as he's willing to et in person, Morgan Chase is prepared to offer him a one-billion-dollar interest-free loan for one month."
Unfortunately, Blake rejected the offer once again.
To Blake, playing the stock market was nothing more than personal entertainnt. If he truly needed massive funds, even without touching anything illegal, with the assets and wealth he currently possessed, he could easily obtain leverage worth tens of billions from any reputable financial institution.
— — —
At around three in the afternoon that sa day, after school had ended—
After completing all of his stock transactions, Blake inford the Parker family that he would be going abroad to visit relatives.
Then, he departed alone, boarding a flight headed toward the Middle East.
He was determined to profit from the collapse of Stark Industries' stock. At the sa ti, Tony Stark—the billionaire playboy—also struck him as soone rather interesting.
Saving him from disaster and turning him into a friend… wasn't a bad choice at all.
— — —
Almost simultaneously with Blake's departure, news regarding the incident involving Tony Stark—the head of Stark Industries—spread rapidly.
He had been attacked by terrorists in Afghanistan and was declared missing.
Stark Industries' stock price plumted instantly.
Fortunately, the news broke shortly before the stock market closed, giving shareholders and financial institutions one night to process the information, hoping to sell as quickly as possible the next day.
But as always, the stock market was never fair—where there were losses, there were inevitably gains.
Besides Blake, who earned over six hundred million dollars in a single night, there was also another key figure who benefited greatly:
Obadiah Stane—the senior executive and second-largest shareholder of Stark Industries, as well as the mastermind behind Tony Stark's kidnapping in Afghanistan.
For a long ti, the man had secretly coveted the position of leader at Stark Industries, plotting every possible way to overthrow Tony.
And naturally, as the brain behind the incident, Obadiah had prepared long in advance. Aside from himself and Blake, several other "influential" figures had also received the information early, joining in on the stock market massacre like guests at a lavish feast.
— — —
Let's pause the stock market matters here.
The next day, after an overnight flight, Blake finally landed in a country neighboring Afghanistan: Iran.
Why not land directly in Afghanistan?
The answer was simple—Afghanistan was currently in a state of war.
Unless Blake had direct connections with the U.S. Departnt of Defense and could land at one of their military bases, the route he chose was the fastest and most realistic option.
After arriving in Iran, Blake wasted no ti. Carrying only a backpack, he imdiately crossed the border by air, heading toward the mountainous regions of Afghanistan.
Blake didn't know the exact location where Tony Stark was being held, but he rembered one thing from the movie—the place was near a remote desert.
Even with limited information, Afghanistan's total land area wasn't that large, roughly six hundred and forty thousand square kiloters.
If urban areas were excluded, Blake estimated that within three days, he could scan the entire region using his Infinity Perception System.
But luck was on his side.
In less than a single day, Blake successfully located Tony Stark's hiding place.
It was a secret military base built by an ard group deep within a valley. They weren't just ordinary terrorists—they were part of an organization known as the Ten Rings.
The Ten Rings were a mysterious extremist group, widely known for their mission: to destroy world peace by any ans necessary. Rumors claid the organization was led by a mythical figure known as the Mandarin.
It was said that this man possessed supernatural powers, the true limits of which were completely unknown.
But to Blake—who already possessed a power level exceeding one thousand points—whether it was the "Mandarin" or a random village chief, they were nothing more than insignificant insects.
More importantly, the Mandarin wasn't present in this valley at all. There were only a few hundred ard mbers stationed at the base, whose strength—at least to Blake—was no different from a swarm of ard ants.
Although he could have rescued Tony Stark imdiately, Blake chose to wait a few more days.
The reason was simple: he had arrived too early.
At this mont, Tony Stark had only just been forced by the leader of the group—also a mber of the Ten Rings—to manufacture missiles.
There was no sign yet of the first Iron Man armor.
If Tony were rescued now, then there would be no Iron Man.
And only by experiencing this catastrophe—being captured, forced, wounded, and then rising again—could Tony Stark evolve into a legendary existence:
Iron Man.
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