DC hero at Marvel

"Did you finish what I asked you to do?" Anton broke the silence in the car after a steady drive of about ten minutes.

"As per your instructions, Detective Comics (DC) is officially established, and the approval papers will be ready tomorrow," Betty replied.

The night Anton had booked his flight to San Francisco, he had asked Betty if she'd be interested in a different position. She had been hesitant at first, but after some thought, she approached him and agreed to become his personal assistant.

Now, as Hollywood's favorite "genius director" with a prominent family background, Anton had become one of the most well-known "rich kids" in America, only slightly less famous than Tony Stark before his disappearance.

The media frenzy around Stark's disappearance had been intense, but public interest was waning. After all, he'd gone missing in the conflict-ridden region of Afghanistan, and most people presumed he was dead.

In the meantime, Anton Jameson fame was soaring. Not only was he a celebrated director and the hidden force behind the Daily bugle, but he was also rumored to be the recently emerged superhero, Batman.

From a certain dark perspective, Anton was rising on Stark's downfall.

Little did they know, Anton was confident Stark would make it through. If Tony Stark died, the world would lose a lot of its color.

On their way back to the Daily bugle, Betty continued her update. "The screenwriting department head will be Browning Toby. He enjoyed working with you and accepted our offer right away. As for Jim, he said he'll need some time to think about it."

"Movies are only one part of our plan," Anton nodded with satisfaction, showing his capitalist mindset. "We need to quickly establish projects in comics, animation, merchandise, and other related ventures."

"Understood," Betty replied.

"When will Browning arrive in New York? I have a lot to discuss with him," Anton asked. "And did you manage to bring in the assistant directors I mentioned?"

"Three accepted our offer, but the others declined," Betty replied.

"Three?" Anton stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That's good enough for now; you did well in such a short time."

Their conversation ended as the car pulled up to the Daily bugle building.

After they arrived, Phil headed to the finance department to pick up a hefty bonus, his excitement almost palpable. He then left for home, as Anton had given him a break until Eddie returned to work.

Settling into his office chair, Anton brewed himself a cup of coffee, savoring a sip and letting out a sigh of relief. Life was finally feeling a bit more comfortable.

Knock, knock!

Just as the workday was nearing its end, Betty knocked on his door with a slightly strange expression.

"Someone knows you're back and wants to see you," she said.

"Who?" Anton asked.

"Winston, from the Continental Hotel."

"Let him in," Anton nodded, soon watching as Winston entered with a calm demeanor, showing none of the frustration he'd displayed the other night.

"Anton, should I say, 'Nice to finally meet you?'" Winston smiled, eyeing the young man warily.

"What's this about?" Anton wasn't interested in pretending with Winston; they both knew the score. Smiling with curiosity, he said, "I thought you'd never want to see me again."

"A certain Adjudicator wishes to speak with you," Winston replied frankly. "You do owe the Continental Hotel an explanation, after all, don't you?"

"The Adjudicator?" Anton smirked. "Fine, let her in."

"Actually, she wants you to come to the Continental Hotel," Winston replied.

"I'm not part of the High Table, and I haven't wronged them," Anton's face darkened. He looked at Winston coldly, his tone laced with danger. "If anything, it's the High Table that crossed me! Go back and tell her that if she wants to see me, she'll need to come to the Daily bugle. And if the High Table wants to come after me, they're welcome to try."

"I'll relay your words exactly," Winston said, showing no offense and even seeming relieved, as if he too had reservations about the Adjudicator.

He took his leave, and Anton, staying true to his word, didn't hear from the Adjudicator for the rest of the day.

Anton didn't care. The High Table was never something he took seriously.

In simple terms, the High Table was a global assassins' empire, ruled by strict regulations that all its affiliated killers had to follow. However, it hadn't unified the underworld entirely; several independent assassin organizations still operated, like competing schools of thought.

According to Anton's understanding, the High Table consisted of twelve seats, with leaders from groups like Camorra, the Mafia, the Yakuza, and Russian factions occupying seats. Their influence was widespread, making it challenging to dismantle.

the Continental Hotel was only a New York base for the High Table, not its stronghold, which was why Anton hadn't focused on uprooting the organization entirely.

If the High Table was wise, they'd avoid provoking him further. After all, they'd started this conflict, not him.

Meanwhile, back at the "under-construction" Continental Hotel…

A short-haired woman with a steely demeanor looked at Winston, her expression unreadable. "He said that?"

"Yes," Winston nodded. "He said you should meet him, not the other way around. After all, he feels it was our side that made the first misstep."

"Our side?" The Adjudicator shot Winston a sharp look.

As the head of the Continental Hotel, Winston naturally referred to the High Table as "our side," but his phrasing here suggested he was unwilling to be the one leading the charge against Anton.

In other words, Winston's wariness of Anton ran deep.

Was this new Batman really that terrifying?

"When do you plan to meet him?" Winston asked, noticing the Adjudicator deep in thought.

"I will meet him," she replied coolly, giving him a glance. "But not just yet."