John stood in his family's Manhattan home, piecing together the strange clues left behind. The agents who had tested him, his absent family, and his sister's classmates all pointed to something unusual. He needed answers.
He wondered aloud, "Is that woman still in London?" The thought crossed his mind to track her down and question her directly. Torture was unpleasant, but with Veritaserum and Legilimency, the truth would be easy to extract.
For now, the most urgent task was to confirm where his family had gone. John picked up the house phone, hesitating for a long time. "What is Dad's phone number?" he muttered, realizing he had grown so used to using owls in the wizarding world that he had never bothered to memorize a phone number. The world of science and technology felt strangely distant now. Before he came to this world, technology had advanced so far that everyone had a mobile phone and hardly anyone carried cash. Even though the Marvel world was filled with advanced technology, civilian life was not so different.
He set the photo frame down and continued searching for clues. "This vacation was supposed to be relaxing, but it feels like trouble is just beginning," he sighed. The very start of his break had given him a bad feeling, and now he hoped it would not be completely ruined.
Leaving his sister's room, John glanced into his own. It was clean and tidy, but a few things were missing. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the streets of Manhattan, a view worth a fortune. "Dad has made a lot of money over the years," John thought, pausing to take in the cityscape. He exhaled slowly, then traced a strange eye-shaped symbol on the glass. It was a burglar detection spell, able to sense any intruder in the house—a very practical bit of magic.
After wandering the house, John returned to the living room. He drew his wand, its black surface marked with natural bumps like tree knots. It was made of elder wood, with a core of Thestral feather. This was the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in the wizarding world, once belonging to the greatest wizard. John had claimed it for himself.
With a wave of the Elder Wand in the center of the room, golden powder sprayed out, covering the floor and revealing footprints. There were two sets: one from large leather shoes, the other from stiletto heels. The prints moved from the living room to the second floor, stopping at his sister's room. From there, a pair of canvas shoe prints appeared, pacing back and forth in large leather shoes, then heading to the trophy room. Eventually, all the prints vanished at the exit.
John studied the spot where the footprints disappeared, narrowing his eyes. "They left in a hurry." Before long, another set of prints appeared—this time, a man's leather shoes at the front door, wandering through the house as if searching for something. These did not belong to any family member. The stranger's prints paused at the cabinet that held the Golden Snitch. John guessed the intruder had opened the cabinet, letting the Snitch escape. That set of prints wandered through the entire house, even into John's room, before returning to the living room and leaving.
John fell into deep thought. Who was this person, and what was their connection to the agent? As he pondered, the lights overhead flickered—the burglar detection spell was reacting. He looked up, his instincts warning him that something was wrong. Without hesitation, he raised his wand.
"Protego."
A phantom of silver armor enveloped him just as the living room glass shattered and a figure in red and gold burst in. The armored figure collided with the magical shield, halting abruptly. It flipped in the air, using palm and foot propellers to stabilize itself, then landed in a classic superhero pose.
The Shield Curse (Protego) was designed for defense and to repel attackers. Even a speeding car would be bounced away. The man in the suit quickly stood up and raised his arm. A laser beam shot from the palm of his armor.
John vanished, apparating behind the suit. He raised his right hand and clenched it. Photography magic took hold, an invisible force gripping the armored intruder and lifting him off the ground. Only ten seconds had passed since the fight began.
John was about to crush the uninvited guest when he recognized the familiar color scheme. "Iron Man?" he said in surprise. At that moment, the armor's shoulder opened and a small missile launched toward him.
"Relashio."
Sparks flew from John's wand, striking the missile and sending it off course toward the second floor. The explosion rocked the house, and John's grip on the armor loosened. He glanced at the damaged wall, his anger growing. Even a superhero deserved a beating for breaking into someone's home.
"Well, Ariana is going to be furious," he muttered.
"Jarvis, analyze this guy," Tony Stark's voice came from inside the suit. John prepared to retaliate, but Tony was rattled. Magic was not something a physics genius like him could comprehend. MIT had not taught him how to deal with wizards, and he could not understand how someone could redirect a missile with a wand.
"Sir, the identity is blocked," Jarvis reported.
"Just hack in," Tony replied. He was never one to follow rules. As the most powerful AI, Jarvis quickly broke into the S.H.I.E.L.D. database.
"John Wick, male, born in 1980, British," Jarvis read. There was little information, and this was Tony's first encounter with John.
"I think that kid is angry," Tony said to Jarvis. John's youthful appearance made it hard to believe he was thirty.
After a brief standoff, Tony realized he needed to take the threat of the "chopsticks" seriously. He raised his hands and fired the laser cannon, going all out.
"Protego!"
The magical shield reappeared, bouncing the laser away. Tony was slammed into the wall, his armor dented. "What the hell is this? Oh no!" he exclaimed, struggling to recover. John waved his wand, and a fallen chair twisted into the shape of a brown python, wrapping itself around Tony's arm. The bizarre sight made Tony break out in a cold sweat. He grabbed the snake and hurled it away. In midair, it turned back into a stool and shattered.
John's eyes narrowed. "I do not think you are a lost bird who flew into the wrong house," he said coldly.
Tony could not help but comment on the accent. "Damn, that charming Cockney accent. Is he an aristocrat?" Americans always seemed to enjoy British accents.
Tony managed to get up, his mask popping open to reveal the billionaire face John had seen that morning. "Yes, I came specifically to see you, Mr. London Nobleman," Tony said. Poisoned by palladium and attacked the day before, he was in no mood for pleasantries. He had already arranged for Pepper to inherit the company and Rhodes to take the armor. He would not allow any threat to his family to remain.
The origin of the whip used in the previous attack was suspicious, likely sent by a rival company. Stark Industries and Hammer Industries had been competitors for government contracts. After both companies closed their weapons divisions, they became targets because of their armored suits. Hammer Industries stood to benefit the most. Among its shareholders were Russian connections—specifically, Watson Wick, John's father.
Everything seemed to fit. If Tony Stark died, Stark Industries' stock would plummet, and the Wake Group, as Hammer's largest shareholder, would profit. There was also a history of conflict between Tony and the Wick Group, making it plausible that their forces would target him. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s information only reinforced Tony's suspicions.
All evidence suggested that if Tony wanted to protect his friends after his death, he needed to eliminate the Wick Group threat. The lingering effects of last night's drinking made him act impulsively. Unfortunately, the information was wrong. There was no leader in the Wick family, only a young son.
When John opened the flask, the strong scent of tequila hit him. He raised an eyebrow. "How much have you had to drink?"
"What?" Tony replied provocatively, slurring his words. "Your mother will not let you drink?"
"You have really managed to anger me, Tony Stark," John said, narrowing his eyes and raising his wand. "Let me wake you up. Expelliarmus!"
A red light flashed from the tip of the wand, striking the suit and forcing Tony backward. He quickly lowered his mask and braced for impact. Under the force of the red lightning, the armor was pried open, pieces falling away one by one.
Tony braced himself for death but instead felt a sudden chill. The broken glass let in a cool breeze. Looking down in disbelief, Tony realized the suit had fallen away in pieces, leaving him completely naked.
He remembered, with a flush of embarrassment, that during last night's party he had demonstrated how to use the bathroom while wearing the suit. For convenience, he had not worn any clothes underneath.
And so, there he stood, utterly exposed... Just Stark Naked!