"Indeed, bad guys do live longer. Congratulations, Tony, you've officially made it onto God's blacklist! Though for me, that's bad news—I've had my eye on the cars in your garage for quite some time."
It was satisfying to think that his small butterfly effect had helped Tony overcome his palladium poisoning earlier than in the original timeline. However, he wasn't sure if this change would still allow Rhodey to get his hands on a suit of armor and become War Machine.
"You're a complete jerk. Sharing good news with you was a mistake. When are you coming back? Are you waiting for this hammer business to wrap up?"
After bantering with Tony for a bit, Blake suddenly seemed to remember something. He walked over to a secluded spot and, with an air of secrecy, said to Tony, "I need to ask you something, Tony. You're the only one who can help me!"
"You look so sneaky, it reminds me of a thief. Did you catch some kind of…man problem? If so, I can't help you there, buddy! After all, I'm in excellent health, very strong. You should probably ask Banner, though—he took some medical courses, I think."
Tony looked at Blake's secretive demeanor with disdain.
"Shut up, you perverted scoundrel. I'm in perfect health, thank you very much. I just went to Mexico, you know, and I brought back a lot of money from those drug lords. I opened an account at a Swiss bank."
"I set it up in one of their houses. You know, Zurich has a lot of banks. I wanted to ask you which one is the safest. I'm thinking of moving the money."
Blake glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then whispered into the phone.
"That's it?"
Tony looked disappointed, as if he was expecting some big secret.
"Watch your attitude, Tony. I'm a billionaire now, too—three billion dollars, three billion! Good lord, I don't even know what to buy first. A mansion? A yacht? Do you have any good suggestions?"
On the screen, Tony Stark looked at Blake with a mix of disdain and condescension.
"I thought you had done something big. Three billion dollars, and you're making a fuss? UBS. It's the Union Bank of Switzerland, a merger of two major banks. As long as you see those three letters on the bank's website, it's reliable. Anything else?"
Tony didn't say it outright, but Blake could almost hear the word "pauper" in his tone.
"Tony, I admit you're incredibly rich, but three billion dollars is no small amount anywhere. I think you should respect me a bit more. Do you even understand what three billion dollars means?"
Blake was riding high, having solved his financial problems in this world permanently. With a fortune in his pocket, he was feeling proud and defiant—he couldn't tolerate Tony's condescending attitude.
"I'm not sure, my friend. Three billion dollars—it could be the value of a Stark Industries contract with the Department of Defense, or just a minor fluctuation in stock prices. I'm not really sure. You know, I don't really pay attention to the numbers in my bank account."
"Motherf—!"
Blake angrily hung up the phone. This was the pinnacle of humblebragging. There are levels to being a billionaire, and he'd have to be crazy to bring up money in front of Tony Stark again.
"Excuse me, is everything alright?"
"Am I not okay? Do you need something?"
Someone nearby spoke, and Blake instinctively responded irritably.
He turned his head to see a scruffy old man—it was none other than the genius astrophysicist Erik Selvig. This guy had a pretty high appearance rate throughout the Avengers series: Thor 1 and 2, and Avengers 1 and 2.
In the first Avengers movie, he was the one controlled by Loki to develop a device that used the vast energy of Stark Tower to scientifically stabilize the Tesseract, opening a portal that allowed the Chitauri army to flood into New York.
Blake's attitude startled the old man, who nervously replied in a small voice, "I have a friend... he's a bit... you know... not quite right in the head. He went missing yesterday, and I heard he came here. I wanted to ask if you've captured him. If you're with them..."
Dr. Erik Selvig pointed to the sign over the large tented camp behind him.
"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Bit of a mouthful, isn't it? Yeah, that's us. And if your friend is the one who's been going around claiming to be the God of Thunder and the son of Odin, then you've got the right guy."
Erik Selvig quickly nodded in agreement. He was only here because Jane Foster had begged him to come and get Thor; otherwise, who in their right mind would want to deal with a mysterious intelligence agency?
"Alright, your friend seems pretty unwell. Don't forget to take him to a doctor when you leave. Hey, you!"
Blake called over a guard.
"Go notify Agent Coulson that the friend of that crazy guy from yesterday is here to pick him up. He'll know what I mean."
He pulled Erik Selvig aside to wait and made some small talk, but quickly lost interest. These genius scientists were often awkward in conversation, slow to respond unless the topic was their specialty. People like Tony Stark, who were both extraordinarily brilliant and genuinely fun to be around, were rare indeed.
After a short while, Coulson arrived, flanked by two guards escorting Thor. Ever since failing to lift the hammer last night, Thor had been in a daze, not speaking, just staring blankly.
"Thor, are you okay? Jane asked me to bring you home."
Whether it was the familiar voice of Dr. Selvig or just hearing Jane's name, something seemed to awaken in Thor. He looked up, and a spark of life returned to his eyes.
"Did you come to take me away?"
"Yes, Jane is waiting for you outside. I'm here to take you back!"
Thanks to Blake's heads-up, Coulson didn't ask Dr. Selvig for any ID and simply let them go. It made the fake IDs they had stayed up all night creating a complete waste of effort.
However, after Dr. Selvig left with Thor, Coulson discreetly ordered an agent to follow them.
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