The Marvel Prophet: I Publish Marvel Comics

I leaned back in my chair, watching Obadiah as he tried to make sense of the situation. With a casual smile, I said, "The future isn't set in stone. It can be changed—if you know how to change it."

Obadiah smirked, clearly intrigued. "You've got a point," he said, his eyes narrowing. "So, what do you suggest I do about it?"

I grinned, leaning forward. "Simple. Buy my upcoming third volume of *Iron Man* comics. You'll find out what Tony Stark is up to right now. Then, you'll know exactly what to do."

Obadiah chuckled and nodded. "Alright. I'll check it out. If this works out, you'll be my best partner."

He didn't seem to think I was playing him. In his mind, the potential rewards were too high, and I had no reason to lead him astray. Besides, buying the comic would let him see for himself whether I was serious. If I was messing with him, it wouldn't be hard for him to make my life difficult.

And for now, Tony still trusted him. That was enough to keep Obadiah calm, believing I hadn't spilled the beans to Tony about what he had planned.

It was exactly what I needed him to think.

"Looking forward to working with you," I replied with a grin.

Obadiah laughed, standing up from his chair. "I like ambitious people. You and I, we're cut from the same cloth. Tony, on the other hand... He's not like us. He's too soft."

I could see where Obadiah's mind was heading. Tony had always been the playboy in his eyes. And now, with Stark Industries pulling out of the arms business, Obadiah was convinced Tony was driving the company into the ground.

Obadiah wouldn't let that happen. He was too deeply embedded in the company to let Tony take it in a direction he didn't agree with. That's why he wanted control. 

"Best of luck, then," I said with a slight nod.

"Thanks. I'll be in touch," Obadiah said, flashing a grin. "It's quite the spectacle outside your office, by the way."

I smirked. Angus was still out there, eating the comics under the watchful eyes of half the city. It was a madhouse. "Yeah, I know. You should probably take the back exit if you don't want to get caught up in it."

Obadiah nodded, pulling his jacket back on. "Good idea. I'd rather not be photographed today." With that, he made his exit.

As soon as he was gone, Nick Fury's assistant, Liam, walked in. "What was Obadiah Stane doing here? Isn't he from Stark Industries? Was he negotiating on behalf of Tony Stark?"

I shrugged. "Something like that. Let's go check on the chaos outside."

We headed out to the front of the building, where Angus was still gnawing on comic pages, his face a mix of embarrassment and misery. He looked up at me with wide eyes, like a beaten dog, as I approached him.

"Mr. Reporter," I said, putting on my best sympathetic tone, "I didn't actually think you'd come here and eat comics! It was all just a joke. You didn't have to take it so seriously. Sure, the paper's high quality, but it's probably not the best thing for your digestive system. Let's get you to a hospital."

The onlookers watched this display, some of them whispering about how kind and compassionate I was being. Angus, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to strangle me. I could almost hear the thoughts running through his head: *You're the one who forced me into this! I wouldn't be eating comics if there hadn't been guns pointed at me!*

But Angus didn't say any of that. He simply stammered, tears rolling down his cheeks as he choked out a response.

The crowd seemed to eat it up. They were convinced this was some heartwarming moment, and that Angus was simply moved to tears by my supposed generosity. Classic scene, really.

"Feeling moved?" I asked with a grin.

Angus managed to respond, barely holding back his frustration. "I... I wouldn't dare move."

The whole thing was wrapped up neatly with a bow when Angus, still sniffling, gave a deep bow. "Mr. Walker, I'm sorry for doubting you and for my arrogance. I hope you'll forgive me."

I waved him off with a smile, and Angus stumbled away, his head hung low.

The crowd, seeing that the show was over, gradually dispersed. In the end, I walked away with my reputation intact, maybe even a little shinier. The reporters had their story, and Marvel Publishing got some unexpected advertising. Not bad for a day's work.

Back at the office, I checked in with Liam. Ever since the *Iron Man* comics had started flying off the shelves, Liam had been running himself ragged keeping up with everything. The guy was practically working around the clock, barely getting any sleep.

We talked for a bit before Liam shoved a pile of documents into my hands, clearly eager to get me out of his hair. He had way too much work to do.

I glanced down at the stack of papers and sighed. The excitement of the day's success quickly faded as the reality of paperwork set in.

Still, there was one silver lining. Across the room, my secretary, Katie, caught my eye. She was organizing some files, looking effortlessly professional yet striking as always.

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that having a good secretary makes life so much easier. Especially when it comes to dealing with financial reports. 

"Hey, Katie," I called out. "This is the latest financial statement. I need you to proofread it."

Katie's eyes widened as she stared at the towering stack of papers in my arms. She shot me a look that could only be described as pure, silent protest.

"Come on," I said with a grin. "We'll split it fifty-fifty."

Her expression softened, and she let out a dramatic sigh. "You're lucky I like you, Mr. Walker."

With that, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek before taking half the stack from me. I couldn't help but smile. There was definitely something to be said for having a beautiful and competent secretary.

As the workday drew to a close, I made my way to Liam's office one last time.

"Uncle Nick, we need to talk," I said, knowing Fury always appreciated a straight approach.

"What's on your mind?" Fury asked, looking up from his desk.