Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 71

Chapter 71: Hello, Beautiful

Tony’s nonchalant attitude and cynical words caused Howard’s brows to instantly knit together. This elderly man, typically held in high esteem within both S.H.I.E.L.D. and the scientific community, seemed utterly helpless when facing his own son—or more accurately, perpetually frustrated by his perceived lack of ambition.

He glared at Tony. “Wipe that smirk off your face and stop being so glib!”

Howard’s voice was sharp with reproach. “Instead of learning how to actually manage the company, what are you doing here, getting involved in this? The future of Stark Industries will be in your hands sooner or later, but look at you now—”

A corner of Tony’s mouth curled up, a gesture that was simultaneously casual and brimming with the unique rebellion of youth. He shoved both hands into the pockets of his suit trousers, leaning back slightly as he met his father’s accusations with an almost provocative posture.

“What is there to learn?” Tony’s voice was airy, yet every word seemed to prick Howard’s ears like a needle. “If I wanted to, I could manage it better than you without a single lesson. Those financial reports, market analyses, strategic plans… they’re just a collection of patterned numbers and logic games. Give me a month, and I could make Stark Industries’ stock price jump another thirty percent.”

He paused, a playful smile hooking his lips as his gaze swept between Howard and Mavuika. “Besides, isn’t it far more interesting that my rigid old man would suddenly start secretly manufacturing a sports motorcycle? That’s a toy for thrill-seeking kids, not… well, you.”

Tony took two steps forward, the crisp sound of his expensive leather shoes echoing on the stone path of the villa. His gaze settled on Mavuika, and in the brown eyes he had inherited from Howard, a light flickered—one entirely different from his father’s. It was a mixture of intense curiosity, a desire for exploration, and a blatant, unfiltered appreciation for beauty.

“I heard…” Tony spread his hands in an exaggerated, theatrical gesture. “…that Howard Stark—World War II hero, founder of Stark Industries, one of the greatest scientific minds of our time—suddenly designed a sports motorcycle. Personally. And even used Stark Industries’ best materials and a priority production line to build it? That’s more unbelievable than him announcing he’s retiring to go sunbathing in Hawaii.”

Howard’s expression grew increasingly grim. He could feel his blood pressure rising, a dull throb starting at his temples. This son—the one in whom he had placed such high hopes, yet who always managed to disappoint him—had a talent for appearing at the most inappropriate times, in the most inappropriate ways.

“Tony!” Howard’s voice was a low growl, squeezed through clenched teeth. “Watch your tone. And who gave you permission to access the production line’s surveillance data? That is a company secret—”

“Please, Dad,” Tony interrupted, his tone as relaxed as if they were discussing the weather. “Since when has any part of the Stark Industries network security system posed a challenge for me? Do I really need ‘permission’ to look at whatever data I want?”

The atmosphere between father and son grew taut, like two violin strings stretched to the breaking point. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above, casting dappled shadows across them, but it did nothing to warm the hostile air of their confrontation.

Mavuika stood to the side, observing the scene with a quiet, deep interest. As a deity who had lived for millennia, she had witnessed countless father-son relationships—some were intimate, others were cold and distant, and some had curdled into outright enmity. But to see a pair like Howard and Tony, who so clearly cared for one another yet communicated almost exclusively through arguments and confrontation, was a fascinating rarity.

She could feel the depth of Howard’s worry and his towering expectations for his son. In turn, she could also sense Tony’s complex storm of emotions toward his father: a mixture of respect, rebellion, a desperate longing for recognition, and an equally fierce need to prove himself on his own terms.

Seeing the two of them clashing the moment they met, Mavuika decided to intervene. She stepped forward, her movement as natural and fluid as a gentle breeze cutting through the oppressive stillness before a thunderstorm.

“Alright, Howard,” Mavuika’s voice was calm and pleasant, instantly drawing their attention. “You haven’t introduced me. Who is this?”

Her interjection was like a bucket of cool water, dousing the flames of their argument before they could truly erupt. Howard took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. Straightening his slightly disheveled collar, he made the introduction in the steadiest tone he could manage. “This is my son, Tony. Tony Stark.”

He paused, then added with a complex mix of pride and exasperation, “As you can see, he’s brilliant, gifted… and an incredible headache.”

Tony paid his father’s assessment no mind whatsoever. His eyes lit up at Mavuika’s inquiry. He turned to face her, that frivolous yet undeniably charming smile returning to his face. With the practiced elegance of a well-trained nobleman, he extended a hand.

“Hello, beautiful,” Tony said, his voice carrying the magnetic confidence unique to his youth. “A pleasure to meet you. And how should I address you?”

His gaze met hers directly, without a hint of hesitation.

Mavuika was unbothered, reaching out to accept his handshake. Her palm was warm, her skin so fine it felt almost unreal, yet there was no delicacy or weakness in her touch. On the contrary, Tony felt an indescribable sense of power contained within her hand, like holding a piece of warm, indestructible jade. It was a subtle, grounding force that briefly silenced the usual noise in his head.

“Mavuika,” she stated her name simply, her amber eyes studying the sharp-edged young man before her with open interest.

“Mavuika. A beautiful name,” Tony praised, giving her hand a gentle shake. He did nothing overtly disrespectful, though in Howard’s eyes, his very existence at this moment was disrespectful enough. After a perfectly timed two seconds, he released her hand, the motion smooth and proper.

“I thought the old man had suddenly found religion and decided to chase some youthful thrills, so I followed him to see what was going on,” Tony began chatting with Mavuika as if they were old friends, completely ignoring his father’s ashen face nearby. “You know, it’s a bit of a stretch at his age. A man in his seventies suddenly wanting to ride a motorcycle? That’s like… like Einstein announcing he’s taking up professional skydiving. It’s just not in the programming.”

He leaned in closer to Mavuika, lowering his voice just enough that Howard could still hear every word. “But with me around, he’s in luck. I’m an expert in this sort of thing. I can provide him with plenty of advice and help.”

“Fashionable outfits, social skills, even dating advice… although I think the old man might be a little past his prime for that.” As he spoke, Tony let out a bright, infectious laugh. Howard, however, was not laughing.

“But now it seems I had it all wrong…” Tony’s tone shifted, his gaze drifting to the truck and its precious cargo before returning to Mavuika. “Miss Mavuika, that vehicle… my father had it custom-made for you, didn’t he?”

His tone was certain, a statement more than a question.

Mavuika simply smiled. “Oh? And what makes you think that?”

She neither admitted nor denied it, skillfully tossing the question right back at him.

Tony didn’t answer directly. Instead, he turned and began walking toward the back of the truck.