People loved saying there was no harm without comparison.
Justin Hammer was living proof.
He and Tony Stark were about the same age.
Both ran defense companies.
That was where the similarities ended.
Tony collected industry awards faster than he could find shelf space for them. Some of the most prestigious honors Justin dreamed of winning were so routine to Tony that he often couldn’t even be bothered to attend the ceremonies.
Every few months, Stark Industries unveiled another revolutionary technology or next-generation weapon system. Military contracts followed like clockwork.
Hammer Industries, by contrast, was little more than a manufacturing contractor.
Very few of its products were truly its own.
Most of its business came from licensing older designs and mass-producing cheaper alternatives.
Without its political connections and its ability to move outdated weapons into conflict zones across Africa and the Middle East, Justin Hammer would have been almost irrelevant.
Then Tony had gone one step further.
He had built the Iron Man armor.
He’d become a genuine superhero.
Justin had watched from the sidelines with equal parts envy and resentment.
Which was why there was one thing he could never tolerate.
Being compared to Tony Stark.
Especially when the comparison was accurate.
And now the owner of a tiny roadside curiosity shop had casually dismissed him as the man Tony Stark walked all over.
Justin’s face turned crimson.
"You..."
He pointed a shaking finger at Evenson.
"...Say that again."
Evenson had no interest in arguing with an overgrown man-child.
"Loser."
He waved dismissively.
"Now get lost."
At the same time, he casually glanced at Justin.
That single glance was enough.
The anger vanished from Justin’s face.
His entire body went cold.
A nameless terror flooded his mind.
His knees buckled, and he collapsed against his luxury sedan, clutching his chest as sweat poured down his forehead.
He should have considered himself lucky.
If Evenson had cast the spell with any real intent, the Fear alone could have stopped his heart.
Then again...
Surviving might end up being the less fortunate outcome.
Justin’s bodyguards finally reacted.
One of them lunged toward Evenson, reaching for his collar.
Before his hand could get close, a much larger hand wrapped around his forearm.
Taylor.
People rarely overlooked a man Taylor’s size.
Unfortunately, Evenson’s mouth had already stolen all the attention.
Warlocks pulled aggro.
Their Demon Guards dealt the damage.
Evenson suspected he might be the only warlock in existence who managed to play both roles at once.
Taylor smiled.
It wasn’t a pleasant smile.
His fingers tightened.
Crack.
The bodyguard screamed.
His forearm bent at an angle nature had never intended.
Taylor released him without another word.
The man hit the pavement, rolling back and forth while clutching his ruined arm.
Judging by the injury, disability benefits might soon become part of his monthly income.
The second bodyguard froze for half a heartbeat before yanking a pistol from beneath his jacket.
Murder in broad daylight was out of the question.
Self-defense, however...
That was another matter.
He aimed the gun squarely at Taylor.
"Don’t move!"
"I’ll shoot!"
"Police! Drop the weapon!"
Three uniformed officers pushed through the gathering crowd.
One immediately disarmed the bodyguard before he could fire.
But what happened next caught Evenson’s attention.
Instead of standing between both parties equally, the officers positioned themselves between Evenson and Justin...
Facing Evenson.
Their backs toward Hammer’s group.
It looked less like they were protecting civilians and more like they were protecting Justin from him.
Evenson raised an eyebrow.
What’s this?
Corrupt cops protecting a wealthy businessman?
Is this where the story flips and the smug villain gets humiliated?
Then he looked more closely.
Every officer wore the same expression.
Nervous.
One of them was sweating so heavily it looked as though he’d run a marathon.
That’s... odd.
Taylor had snapped someone’s arm, sure.
But they were police officers.
Their sidearms weren’t decorative accessories.
Why did they look terrified?
Then Evenson recognized one of the faces.
His expression immediately shifted.
Right.
So that’s why.
Fast change of uniform, Officer.
The sergeant cleared his throat.
"What’s happening here?"
His voice came out sharper than intended.
"Nothing serious."
Evenson answered calmly.
"Just a misunderstanding."
The relief among the officers was almost comical.
The sweating officer practically dried up on the spot.
"Well..."
The sergeant visibly relaxed.
"If it’s just a misunderstanding..."
"Everyone can go home."
Justin had only just recovered enough to stand.
Hearing that, he nearly fell over again.
Seriously?
One of my bodyguards has a broken arm and that’s your conclusion?
"Officer!"
He hurried forward.
"I’m Justin Hammer."
"They assaulted my bodyguard!"
The sergeant spun around so quickly it startled everyone.
His hand dropped onto the grip of his pistol.
His thumb even released the retention strap.
"I’m telling you..."
"Leave."
"Now."
Justin’s face twisted.
"...Understood."
He swallowed every complaint.
People like him made fortunes handling the government’s dirty business.
The last thing they wanted was ordinary police digging too deeply into their affairs.
If trouble arose from government contracts, someone higher up would smooth it over.
But personal scandals?
Those were another matter entirely.
The government wasn’t interested in granting special privileges.
It was a business arrangement.
Nothing more.
If Justin became more trouble than he was worth, replacing him with another contractor would be easy.
And if an investigation uncovered something embarrassing...
The government would make sure he stopped talking long before the newspapers did.
History had already proven that lesson.
Al Capone hadn’t fallen because of murder or organized crime.
He’d gone to prison over taxes.
After Justin and his entourage disappeared, Evenson crooked a finger toward one of the officers.
"You."
"Come here."
The officer stiffened.
He swallowed nervously before walking over.
"Please don’t misunderstand, sir."
"We were only carrying out our duties."
"I know."
Evenson couldn’t help smiling at the man’s expression.
"I’m not going to eat you."
"You don’t have to look so frightened."
The officer had just started to relax when Evenson reached toward him.
He immediately took a large step backward.
"Sir..."
"I really don’t want to end up in a psychiatric hospital."
Evenson rolled his eyes, grabbed him by the sleeve, and pulled him back.
"How many terrible stories has Melinda been telling about me?"
The officer leaned away as far as he could.
"Not... not many."
"Chief Melinda just said the people you treated last time suffered permanent psychological trauma."
"They’ll probably spend the rest of their lives in mental institutions."
"Nonsense."
Evenson snorted.
"I know exactly how hard I push."
"They’ll be perfectly normal in a month."
He finally let the poor officer go.
"I only wanted to remind you of one thing."
"You still owe me a bicycle."
The officer’s expression instantly collapsed into despair.
Right.
During the last incident...
They really had forgotten to bring back the bicycle Evenson had left by the roadside.
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