Marvel's Iron Lady

As she turned and decisively left the conference room, Miss Stark stuck out her tongue at the board members from where they couldn't see.

"How can people like you make money? Is this world too kind to idiots or what?"

She couldn't help but grumble inwardly, her expression turning sour, filled with resentment toward the company's board of directors.

Over the past few years, Miss Stark had come up with several innovative inventions.

Although not all of them could change the current world order, they were enough to elevate Stark Industries to new heights.

Yet, these valuable creations were often sold off cheaply by the board, far below the prices she had envisioned.

She had protested more than once, only to be told, "You don't understand what economics is."

Even though her inventions didn't fetch the prices she expected, Stark Industries as a whole was still on an upward trajectory.

Additionally, the board had never withheld her monthly stipend of around one million dollars, aside from her research funds.

Well—at least she was getting paid, and she never really lacked money, so she decided to let it slide for now.

As for her next experimental project, Miss Stark already had an idea deep in her mind.

From the fragments of memories in her mind, she recalled many interesting and highly creative concepts.

After careful consideration, she focused on something closely related to herself.

No, it wasn't the Iron Man suit; there was no immediate need to create such a thing yet.

What Miss Stark was intrigued by was a virus—a biochemical weapon virus known as Extremis.

Combining the fragments of memories, she remembered things she had naturally forgotten.

For instance, the scientific conference in Zurich, Switzerland, that she was invited to attend during the millennium New Year.

It was the first time she met a woman named Maya Hansen, a U.S. expert in cellular genetic engineering.

Oh, and I should mention—that was also the first time she officially made an enemy.

Yes, this was something she saw from the story of another version of herself in the memory fragments.

Even though the two different timelines had different genders, their choices were surprisingly consistent.

When that greasy, pathetic cripple tried to pester her, she sent him away without hesitation.

If she hadn't seen it herself, she might never have known that she had unwittingly created a nemesis.

On the millennium New Year's Eve, at the Zurich scientific innovation association's party, that cripple was standing alone on the rooftop, exposed to the cold wind.

Watching the fireworks around the city, the bustling crowd seemed to be having all the fun, leaving him alone in solitude.

The man named Aldrich Killian was so affected by her rejection that he almost chose to jump off.

If he had actually jumped, his revenge story would have ended right there.

Maybe the next morning, before Miss Stark left Zurich, she could have seen the poor man who had fallen to his death.

Face down in a pool of blood, stuffed into a body bag, and sent to the morgue at Zurich's finest hospital.

Perhaps the police would have investigated and discovered that he had arranged to meet Miss Stark on the rooftop.

But with her airtight alibi, the police would have concluded that he was blown off by the wind.

Stark Industries' reputation might have taken a hit, but it wouldn't have been a major issue.

However, he didn't jump; instead, he became fueled by a desire for revenge against Miss Stark.

If it weren't for those memory fragments, she might never have known that a showdown between them was inevitable.

But now that she knew—why not just hire a hitman to take him out?

Back in her penthouse, Miss Stark lay on the couch, her mind drifting to these absurd thoughts.

Hiring a hitman might get rid of him, but would it really solve the problem? She wasn't so sure.

The things she saw in those memory fragments made her realize that this world was far from simple.

Fate—it's not something that can be easily changed.

Even if she had Aldrich Killian killed, what would be the point?

Without him, the trouble wouldn't necessarily end—someone else might come along to take his place as her enemy.

For now, Miss Stark decided to put that issue aside and focus on something else that piqued her interest.

That was the cellular structural equation she had once given to Maya Hansen, which ultimately led to the successful development of the Extremis virus.

Maya Hansen's research had stalled primarily because her foundational structure equation was flawed.

That was why she had specifically sought out Miss Stark at the Zurich party, gaining a chance to be alone with her.

Maybe something did happen between them, but at the very least, Maya Hansen got what she wanted.

Miss Stark wasn't a biology expert, but her genius intellect and far-above-average intelligence were undeniable.

By applying her knowledge of physics, she successfully deduced the problem that had caused Maya Hansen's research to stall.

This mathematical, physics-based knowledge was directly applied by Miss Stark to genetics, a field she wasn't even skilled in.

Maya got the cellular structural equation for the Extremis virus, and Miss Stark... she got an eventful night.

Now, six years had passed since the millennium night, and she couldn't recall what exactly had happened.

But she was even more interested in the cellular structural equation she had once given to Maya—it rightfully had a share belonging to her.

However, considering that Miss Stark wasn't proficient in genetic engineering, she decided to seek help.

For example, as she was now doing, flipping through her contacts, looking for a related technical expert.

As the heiress of Stark Industries and an active scientist at the forefront of technology, Miss Stark's social circle was quite extensive.

It included connections in politics, business, and the military, as well as many renowned figures in academia.

But right now, she wasn't looking for an outsider; she was looking for someone she had known for a long, long time.

Miss Stark found the person in her contacts and dialed their number.

A few seconds later, the call was answered, and a surprised female voice came through.

"Natasha, I didn't expect you to call me!"

"Sweetie, I've been meaning to get in touch with you sooner—are you still in New York?"

"Sorry, Natasha, you might be disappointed—I'm in Seoul, not New York."

Before Miss Stark could finish her sentence, the apologetic voice of Helen came from the other end of the line.

Her name was Helen Cho, a Korean expert in genetic engineering and biomedical engineering.

She was the developer of ECM (Extracellular Matrix) endothelial cell culture gel wound healing technology and a top-tier bioscience researcher.

This was a specialized biological cell framework unique to animal cells, capable of supporting and connecting tissue structures.

Helen's ECM gel was designed as a special medical device aimed at rapid healing of physical injuries.

But more importantly, Helen had been Miss Stark's roommate during their time at MIT.

That alone was enough to justify anything—there was nothing to negotiate, just a bond between close friends.

"Alright, dear, I've come across something interesting that I really want to share with you."

"Here's the plan—I'll arrange a flight to Seoul today. I should be able to see you by tonight."

Question: How much does it cost to hire an expert with dual doctorates in genetic engineering and biomedical engineering?

The answer is uncertain, because experts have different bargaining chips, making it hard to give a specific figure.

But if you're hiring a close friend to help out—how much would that cost?

Miss Stark figured it would be just a plane ticket and a few thousand dollars for meals—perhaps not even the meals.

After contacting Helen, she immediately had Pepper arrange a private jet flight to South Korea.

In the meantime, she found Maya Hansen's personal computer and hacked into it.

Miss Stark successfully breached Maya's computer and the connected data servers, downloading a wealth of information.

Yet, she didn't seem to feel any shame about this illegal hacking—if anything, she took pride in it.

She and Maya Hansen were closely connected, so her actions were just collecting some interest for the future.

After comparing the stolen data files with her database's Extremis virus cellular structure, Miss Stark felt increasingly excited about her upcoming trip—an inexplicable excitement.

Her Boeing business jet was still parked at Kennedy International Airport, and the flight approval was straightforward.

That night, she was already at Incheon International Airport in Seoul, South Korea.

For someone like Miss Stark, with her deep business background, the South Korean government offered significant conveniences—though no one knew what they were planning.

Perhaps they were hoping that this American capitalist tycoon would take an interest in some local industries and invest?

She had indeed arrived in a hurry, bringing only a small amount of luggage and leaving her security team behind, with only Happy accompanying her.

However, as she stepped off her private jet, she saw the woman who had come to pick her up, waiting at the bottom of the airstair.

Perhaps because she had come in such a rush, Dr. Cho hadn't even had time to take off her white lab coat.

"Hi, Natasha, long time no see—welcome to my country."

Dr. Cho had a fair and delicate Eastern face, with light makeup that highlighted her distinctly Oriental beauty.

She stood at the bottom of the airstair, with a silver Porsche sports car parked on the other side of the runway.

Seeing the woman in white directly below the airstair, Miss Stark smiled and slowly descended the steps.

"Yes, it's been, what, three or four years since we last met? Did you miss me, dear?"

She said this as she opened her arms, embracing Dr. Cho and whispering softly in her ear.

"I often think about our college days at MIT, Helen."

"Yes, those were... uh, unforgettable."

As college classmates and dormmates, they shared a deep bond.

This was the real reason why Miss Stark had hurriedly flown to Seoul, South Korea.

"Happy, take care of the flight crew—let them have some fun, consider it a vacation."

"Miss, what do you mean? Your safety—"

"I mean what I said. I'll be staying here for a while, and they're your responsibility."

Before Happy Hogan could finish his sentence, Miss Stark cut him off abruptly.

As she spoke, Miss Stark reached out, opened the door of the Porsche, and sat in the passenger seat.

Dr. Cho shrugged, also getting in and starting the car's engine.

"Miss, you can't just leave—"

"Whatever, Helen, drive, let's go."

Watching the silver sports car speed north along the runway, Happy's face showed a troubled expression.

"Not again—Miss Pepper's going to kill me..."

In fact, this wasn't the first time Happy had lost sight of Miss Stark.

Someone as willful as her often found ways to slip away from her security team and go off on her own.

When the bodyguards finally found her, drenched in sweat, she would simply say she needed some personal space.

The security team's job was to ensure her safety, but—what should they do now?

Watching the sports car's silver silhouette disappear into the night, Happy felt his job might be nearing its end.

"Mr. Hogan, where's the boss?"

The pilot, looking confused, poked his head out of the cabin, seemingly unaware of what had just happened.

"She's given us the day off. You can relax until further notice."

With a heavy sigh, Happy Hogan patted his forehead with his thick hand and shook his head.