bioinnovel Chapter 447 [3 Chapters Combined] Tony's Counterattack
Chapter 447 [3 Chapters Combined] Tony's Counterattack
However, what this group of elites never expected was...
Before Thornton could give any instructions, the plan was finalized into a concrete action plan.
Tony Stark's counterattack came in the way they feared most and could not withstand, like a precise cruise missile hurtling in.
There were no warnings, no probing, and not even through any traditional media channels.
Shortly after their meeting ended, Stark Industries' official platform, Tony's personal social media accounts with tens of millions of followers, and several authoritative technology and financial data service websites closely associated with Stark Industries simultaneously released a link to a seemingly dry "data transparency initiative."
But when people clicked on it, what appeared before them was not the corporate advertisement they had expected...
Instead, it is an interactive database entry called "Energy Industry Historical Responsibility Archives (Selective Excerpt)".
The database's introduction is almost brutally calm: "Based on publicly available information, historical archives, and some declassified industry regulatory communications, it is dedicated to promoting information symmetry and the public's right to know in the context of energy transition."
It is categorized and clearly listed, outlining the criminal evidence hidden beneath the glamorous exterior of traditional energy companies!
Roxon Energy:
A comparison of the actual casualty report and the public statement regarding the 1998 Beihai "Deep Blue Exploration Platform" accident (with internal communication excerpts).
From 2000 to 2003, in California, through shell companies, political donations were channeled to key legislators to obstruct the Clean Energy Act. Detailed financial flow chart (partial bank records corroborate this).
Summary of core evidence in three major environmental pollution lawsuits that were "settled privately" in recent years (involving excessive levels of heavy metals in soil and groundwater, far exceeding publicly released data).
Vertex Energy:
An analysis of the substantive content of a "security contract" for a mine in a certain overseas country points to cooperation with local armed factions and involves multiple covered-up forced labor incidents and conflicts with indigenous people (with excerpts from an investigation report by a non-governmental organization and emails suspected of being internal risk assessments).
An analysis of communications records (spanning seven years) suspected of systematically manipulating regional energy market prices.
Aldrich Industries and several other companies also offered generous gifts.
This information was originally something ordinary people would never have had the opportunity to access—dirty inside stories. Some of it was even old news and dark history that had been exposed at great personal risk, but which was ultimately suppressed by these energy giants at great expense.
But now, Tony (or Jarvis) has an amazing ability to integrate information, weaving fragmented accusations, vague reports, and scattered clues into logically sound and interconnected "story chains".
Time, place, people, amount, impact...
Cold, hard data and real footage are more powerful than any inflammatory words.
More importantly, Tony, being a capitalist himself and well-versed in the "rules of the game," chose the perfect time to release the information, precisely when public opinion was generally disgusted by the energy giants' smear campaign against Iron Boss! It can be said that he reversed the tide, taking advantage of the residual heat that the energy giants had created for Tony while they were painstakingly fabricating smears!
This is no longer a war of words, but a chilling decapitation of information.
The public's anger was instantly ignited, and a clear target was identified.
On social media, topics such as "Boycott Roxson," "Ace Energy Get Out of Our Community," and "Investigate Aldridge" have spread like wildfire.
Environmental organizations, community groups, labor unions, and even some politicians who are usually cautious have all spoken out, either under pressure or out of self-interest, demanding an investigation and accountability.
Victims or those who had been suppressed in the past seemed to be encouraged and began to come forward to provide more clues.
The financial markets reacted more directly and brutally.
The stock price, which was already teetering on the brink due to the controversy surrounding Tony's global press conference, completely collapsed under this heavy blow.
Roxon Energy plunged 28% in a single day, while Vertex Energy fell 22%.
Other related companies were not spared either, triggering multiple circuit breakers.
Panic selling swept through the entire traditional energy sector, also impacting financial institutions closely tied to it.
On Thornton's screen, the curve representing wealth and power did not decline slowly as usual, but rather plummeted precipitously!
The conference room was filled with the ringing of telephones and the beeping of emergency communicators, each one bringing bad news.
Key partners have suspended cooperation.
The bank urged the depositor to provide additional margin.
The regulatory agency has officially sent a letter requesting an explanation.
Even within the board of directors, dissenting voices have begun to emerge…
Fifteen minutes later, everyone who had just left, pale-faced and breathing heavily, burst back into the oak conference room.
The air still carried the lingering scent of cigars from the previous meeting, but the atmosphere was completely different—it had transformed from a strategic planning arena into a command center for a flagship on the verge of sinking.
"That Stark bastard...has he gone mad?! Is he trying to take us all down with him?!"
Brandon Hawke, the vice president in charge of overseas mining assets and one of Roxon's largest individual shareholders, slammed his fist on the expensive mahogany conference table, his knuckles turning white instantly.
He watched his personal net worth evaporate in millions of dollars on the screen, his eyes wide with rage, his carefully styled hair falling loose and sticking to his sweaty forehead.
His anger stemmed not only from the loss, but also from a rage of betrayal—in their social class, there was an unspoken rule: competition could be fierce, even dirty, but rarely would it be so blatant as to expose the dark side of the industry, which everyone in the circle knew about, directly into the sunlight!
This is similar to revealing the existence of a small island and the visitor records associated with it.
This undoubtedly completely undermines the rules and bottom line of the "game".
"No, he's not crazy."
Calvin, who is always calm and thoughtful, was the most "composed" of all.
Even so, his face was still as pale as marble.
Having lost a large amount of wealth in a short period of time, and with his heart bleeding, he stopped staring at the plummeting stock prices and instead stared intently at the website page displayed on the split screen in front of him.
Those past events that he thought had been buried deep and completely sealed away by money and law were now being unearthed by the most meticulous archaeologists, categorized, and presented to the world with clear annotations and chains of evidence.
This made him feel like he had been stripped naked and thrown out into the street, where people would judge him and watch him 24/7, with no privacy or secrets whatsoever!
"It's obvious that we're not the only ones secretly investigating and gathering dirt on our opponents... Stark, or rather his all-powerful AI butler, has already figured us out. He knows where our Achilles' heel is, and how rotten we are beneath every patched-up wound. The 'dirt' he's chosen... each one is enough to trigger a media frenzy, public outrage, and mandatory intervention from regulatory agencies."
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he were swallowing something bitter.
"But have you noticed? He didn't touch the most core things—such as the real terms hidden behind certain energy supply agreements that involve national security. For example, the 'long-term cooperative relationships' between us and the regimes of several major oil-producing countries that absolutely cannot be made public, and... the 'deep ties' between some of you here and the higher-level structures that don't even leave a trace in bank transfer records."
Calvin's gaze slowly swept across the conference room, taking in several faces that suddenly became unnatural.
Some secrets are kept secret even within this "alliance".
"He's calculated it," Calvin concluded, his tone carrying the complex emotions of a chess player facing a superior opponent—a mixture of resentment, a hint of admiration, and a sense of apprehension and unease.
"He knows where the public's tolerance limit is, and where the tipping point is when regulators must react under public pressure. He also knows which information to release that will cripple us, ruin our reputation, and cause our stock price to collapse, but without immediately triggering a complete collapse of the entire energy-finance-political system, leaving everyone in an unmanageable mess... including himself."
"As he said at the press conference, he is punishing us. He is dismantling the public image and market credibility that we have built up over decades and with billions of dollars in the most public and humiliating way. But he 'left room for maneuver'... or rather, he left us two options, both of which lead to hell."
"What options?" Aldrich Industries' representative, a red-faced man known for his volatile temper, asked urgently.
Calvin looked up, his gaze behind his glasses unusually weary: "Option one: follow his script. Use all our legal teams, PR machine, and political connections to deal with endless investigations, hearings, class-action lawsuits, public boycotts... like a giant beast being torn apart by a pack of wolves, slowly losing its power, its aura, and its market share in the long process of bleeding it dry."
"Ultimately, we might survive by cutting our losses, but we'll never regain our former status and influence. We'll forever live in the shadow of Stark's exposure, becoming a negative example in business ethics textbooks. And we'll no longer have the strength to stop the full-scale rise of new energy sources, like airplanes replacing airships, completely replacing traditional energy!"
The conference room was deathly silent, except for the faint sound of stock prices fluctuating on the screen, like a countdown to death.
"Then, what about option two?" Thornton finally spoke, his voice like rough sandpaper rubbing against wood.
He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to everyone.
Looking downstairs, the crowd grew larger and larger, holding up signs.
Those beings that he once considered as insignificant as ants were now emitting a buzzing sound that was driving him crazy.
Calvin remained silent for a longer time before slowly uttering a few words: "...before he completely destroys us, use methods outside the rules to shut him up. For example..."
"For example... just kill Tony Stark?"
Thornton whirled around. His face, which had been gloomy just hours before, was now covered in spiderweb-like blood vessels and his eyes were puffy. But the light emanating from his deep-set eyes was a mixture of the ferocity of a beast about to collapse, the rage of someone at their wit's end, and a hint of... strange, incongruous obsession.
He no longer resembled a thoughtful business tycoon, but rather a gambler who had lost everything and was willing to risk everything.
Calvin didn't continue, simply looking silently at Thornton. But everyone understood the significant risks involved in this decision.
Putting aside for a moment, just how difficult is it to assassinate one of the wealthiest individuals in the United States, or even the world...
They hadn't forgotten that the elusive wall-climbing bug was most likely an "ally" of Tony.
Judging from Spider-Man's powerful abilities recently...
To think you could kill Tony right under Spider-Man's nose is nothing short of a pipe dream!
Roger the Elder certainly understood this as well.
He left the window and began pacing back and forth in the spacious conference room.
His footsteps were heavy and disordered, like an aging lion trapped in a cage.
Expensive custom-made leather shoes made a dull thud when stepped on the high-quality wooden floor.
With each step he took, he seemed to be fiercely debating with a voice within himself, his brow furrowing even more.
The usual imposing aura of complete control had largely dissipated. In its place was a terrifying ferocity, a mixture of destructive desire and self-destructive tendencies, that erupted from someone pushed to the edge of a cliff.
Finally, he stopped in the center of the conference room and waved. This simple gesture carried an unquestionable authority, instantly silencing all the noise, complaints, and fearful whispers.
"To die together?" Thornton's voice was low and hoarse, yet carried a chilling, deliberately suppressed calm. "Does he deserve it?"
His lips twitched, but it wasn't a smile; it was a twitching of his muscles as if they were out of control.
"He thought that flipping the table would end the game? No..."
He slowly shook his head, his gaze sweeping over the photos and medals on the wall that represented his glorious past, finally settling on the silhouette of Stark Tower in the distance, piercing the skyline, his eyes filled with malice.
"Under the table, there's a knife. And the knife hidden in the shadows is often the most deadly."
He turned to the crowd and began issuing instructions, his tone regaining some of its usual cold decisiveness. But beneath the surface, an abnormal excitement still lingered.
"Listen, gentlemen, if you trust me, then leave the stench of public opinion, the garbage of stock prices, and the worthless paperwork of those bureaucratic institutions to the legal team and the public relations department. Tell them to delay, confuse, trade, and find every legal loophole and administrative procedural loophole at all costs. Even if it requires us to pay an astronomical 'settlement fee,' you must ensure that the company's basic structure is not broken up and that we are not forced into bankruptcy liquidation! That's the bottom line!"
This first instruction sounds like a rational, albeit painful, stop-loss plan.
Several of the more conservative executives breathed a slight sigh of relief.
But Thornton didn't finish his sentence.
He slowly turned around, his bloodshot eyes, like poisoned nails, slowly sweeping over every face in the room—faces filled with fear, anxiety, or confusion. His gaze finally passed over Calvin, Hawke, and the others standing in the front row, landing on the darkest corner of the conference room.
There, a man sat quietly.
He wore a well-tailored but unremarkable dark gray suit, almost blending into the shadows.
He didn't participate in any discussions, and rarely even looked up.
But when Thornton's gaze locked onto him, he slightly raised his eyes.
Those were unusually calm, even empty eyes, as if they were completely unaffected by the storm before them that was enough to overturn many people's lives.
Only the most astute observers might be able to detect, deep within his eyes, a trace of inhuman, machine-like, cold focus.
He was Thornton’s “Special Affairs Advisor,” a person without an official title who knew and handled many “behind-the-scenes” matters.
People usually call him "the cleaner" or "the ghost" in private.
Only old Roger knew the true extent of the power this seemingly mysterious man possessed.
"But there is one person who must pay the price immediately... not a commercial price, not a reputational price, but a bloody price."
After exchanging a glance, old Roger seemed to have found his anchor; his speech slowed considerably, yet each word was clear and distinct, striking a chord with everyone's tense nerves.
He paused for a full five seconds, letting the word "blood" echo and settle in the silent conference room, stirring up the most primal fear and trembling in everyone's hearts.
"Tony Stark, he's crossed the line."
"He used methods that didn't belong in this game, tearing off our dirtiest fig leaf and hanging it on the neon sign in Times Square!"
"He made us bleed, be shamed, and become a laughingstock in front of the whole world! Therefore, he must pay this debt with blood! Tenfold, a hundredfold!"
Calvin's back was instantly soaked with cold sweat. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but when he saw the almost manic, obsessive light in Thornton's eyes, he swallowed his words back.
He knew that Roger Thornton was no longer willing to listen to any analysis about risks, consequences, or rationality at this moment.
The flames of hatred and fear had burned away his defenses of reason.
When old Roger's lips finally parted into a grin again, and he asked the crowd a question, word by word, what was revealed to them was a cold, grotesque smile, as sinister as a demon.
"And who do you think is best suited to pick up this bloodstained knife and hold it to Stark's throat?"
Vice President Hawke was breathing heavily, his eyes darting around nervously.
Aldridge's representative blushed even more and clenched his fists.
The others looked at each other, puzzled.
Calvin closed his eyes.
Like the two people before him, he had already guessed the answer...
An answer that's absolutely insane.
"Alright, it seems you're all being a bit too conservative. I'll reveal the answer then!"
Thornton's voice was like a viper's hiss, carrying a cruel mockery.
"The most suitable person to assassinate Tony Stark is, of course, the one we all know, New York City's 'friendly neighbor'... Spider-Man!"
"Spider-Man... But... how could this be? Isn't he on Tony Stark's side? Why would he want to assassinate him?"
This answer caused most of the people present to gasp in surprise.
Just like the various heinous crimes exposed by Tony, these seemingly glamorous and successful people have done their fair share of dirty tricks behind the scenes. Consequently, they have all, to varying degrees, had dealings with Kingpin, the former kingpin of New York City crime.
For this reason, with the demise of Kingpin's forces and having gained a general understanding of Spider-Man's terrifying power, they have been strictly abiding by the law recently, for fear of attracting Spider-Man's attention.
But now, hearing that old Roger had actually set his sights on Spider-Man, even fantasizing about having Spider-Man assassinate Tony, they looked at each other in bewilderment, wondering if old Roger was getting old, his mental fortitude was weakening, and he was frightened by the series of bad news, starting to spout nonsense to amuse people.
"I know what you're thinking... but believe me, just hang in there a little longer, and you will witness the day when Spider-Man kills Tony Stark and becomes a demon hated by everyone."
Roger didn't answer Calvin directly. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the man in the corner, his tone becoming smooth and cruel, as if he were setting up a high-profile commercial performance rather than a murder plot.
"I contact an 'artist' through my private channels. He charges a lot, but it's worth it. And what he's best at is 'becoming' other people, especially... those high-profile characters."
The "man" being stared at by old Roger nodded slightly, indicating that he understood.
The next second, there were no further questions, and no emotional fluctuation whatsoever.
The man stood up and left the meeting room.
"Wait until he takes on this 'business'."
Seeing that the other side had already begun to take action, old Roger visibly relaxed a bit.
He then walked to the conference table, placed his hands on the smooth surface, leaned forward, and the shadow shrouded half of his face in darkness.
"I will find a suitable time—preferably when Stark makes a public appearance and is in the media spotlight—a public occasion with enough cameras. Let our 'artist' properly 'play' our most beloved 'friendly neighbor'."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the horrified faces of the crowd, seemingly enjoying their reaction.
"Of course, we don't need him to actually kill Stark; that would be too easy on that bastard and would attract too many uncontrollable investigations and retaliations." Thornton's eyes flashed with a calculating coldness. "But the process will be thrilling enough! Real enough! We need to make Stark truly feel the chill of death brushing past him! We need to make the scene filled with traces uniquely belonging to 'Spider-Man'!"
He made malicious guesses, straightened up, and waved his arms like a director who was immersed in his own crazy creation when inspiration struck.
"Now comes the most exciting part!"