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Henry looked at the silent, overweight butler before him and added,
"If Mr. Ginger is willing, whether he comes to the United States or I travel to India, either is fine.
"If you continue to represent him, our cooperation can still be discussed. But business is business—you'll need to speak with our commercial department manager. If the terms are appropriate, they'll forward it to me for a final decision.
"There's no need to answer immediately, Mr. Patel. You may return and consult with Mr. Ginger. If the matter isn't suitable for discussion over the phone, I can wait until you've flown back to India and obtained his response."
Before departing, Karan Patel had naturally conducted his research on "Henry Brown." He had assumed he could easily handle this young white executive—talk circles around him and leave him dazzled.
But now, face to face, he realized things were not as he had imagined.
There was an inexplicable confidence about Henry, as if everything were already within his grasp—calm, unhurried.
And it wasn't the empty arrogance of youth, the kind that deflates like a punctured balloon once exposed. Nor was it bluster masking insecurity.
Henry was different.
Patel found that unsettling.
In truth, Henry hadn't been in a position of power for long—barely a year. But his confidence didn't come from status.
It came from the strength he kept hidden.
That was why, in the eyes of other tycoons, Henry Brown was just an upstart who had risen too quickly from nothing.
And yet he moved among them with ease, impossible to take advantage of.
After all, for a Kryptonian, not using his fists was already the height of mercy.
If someone gained a small advantage, Henry simply didn't care.
But if someone tried to seize what wasn't theirs through force?
Then it became a matter of skill—and survival.
If truly pushed, Henry had even considered forging a pair of knuckle-dusters.
One engraved with "Morality."
The other with "Reason."
Then he would ask the other party: would they prefer to be persuaded by virtue—or by logic?
Patel might not understand where Henry's confidence came from, but he knew one thing clearly:
He was not the one qualified to speak on matters involving that secret.
"Mr. Brown," Patel finally said, "I will relay your request to Mr. Ginger word for word. However, what response he gives, I cannot say here. I hope you understand."
"Of course," Henry replied, standing to escort him out. He extended a hand in goodwill. "Let's hope for a result satisfactory to all parties."
Patel shook it solemnly.
"As you say."
After his secretary escorted the Indian butler away, Henry found himself pondering a question:
How many Eternals were actually on Earth?
In the film version, there were ten. But across the universe, other Eternals existed. They were, fundamentally, precision bio-machines created by the Celestials.
In the comics, however, over a hundred Eternals had appeared. Though over the long ages some had perished, some gone mad and fought among themselves, their numbers had dwindled.
In the film, the Eternals existed to facilitate the Emergence—the birth of the Celestial Tiamut.
In the comics, they were merely the result of one of the Celestials' genetic experiments on Earth. Tiamut himself was already an ancient Celestial—a rebellious one who respected life—long in existence.
Film-Ginger was a brown-skinned Bollywood superstar.
Comic-Ginger (Kingo Sunen) was a samurai-like Eternal living in Hokkaido, Japan.
And the most frustrating detail—
Film Eternals had differentiated abilities.
Comic Eternals were uniformly immortal, superhumanly strong, capable of flight, energy projection, molecular manipulation—each simply expressing those powers differently according to personality and will.
It was like comparing movie mutants to comic-book mutants.
Same label. Vastly different ceilings.
Even if the first suspected Eternal Henry encountered was the Bollywood version of Ginger, that didn't prove this world followed the film canon.
And many who thought Eternals weak forgot something—
Their primary opponents were Deviants.
The only time an Eternal directly acted against humans in the film was when Druig used mind control to halt a battle between Spanish conquistadors and Mayans.
Yet neither side dared storm the temple to challenge the Eternals themselves.
That alone said something.
In short, Henry had already seen far too many elements that didn't belong purely to the MCU.
What exactly was this world?
He couldn't say.
He wasn't even sure whether the Celestial egg beneath Earth's core truly existed.
His desire to meet Ginger had been impulsive.
As for what he would do upon meeting him—
He hadn't decided.
Perhaps he simply believed that those who carried similar secrets could speak freely without fearing betrayal.
After thinking for a while and reaching no firm conclusion, Henry set the matter aside.
Perhaps that Eternal celebrity had no interest in meeting him at all.
If they ever met, he could decide how to handle it then.
---
Recently, the most important of Henry's private projects was developing a machine capable of reading Kree and Skrull storage devices.
The alien hard drive he had taken from the Kree cruiser still hadn't been opened.
Who knew what treasures—or dangers—lay inside?
As for the apartment he rented from Old Gary—
He continued renting it, even assuring the flamboyant landlord that incidents like the FBI raid would never happen again.
But honestly?
That promise made him uneasy.
He rebuilt only the sound system in the apartment.
For the filming and projection equipment used to train Charlize's acting, he simply purchased Stark Pictures products—out of his own pocket.
He did not rebuild BB, the core cleaning robot.
All relevant programs and training data had been backed up to the undersea server, so strictly speaking, the loss wasn't serious.
Besides, BB's hardware frequently needed upgrades anyway—thanks to Katie's destructive tendencies.
The machine for reading the alien hard drive was currently under construction at the Sheepfold Valley laboratory.
Power limitations meant he could only build the hardware shell for now. Fine spectral calibration—and actual data reading—remained impossible.
If the FBI could raid his home once, it could happen a second or third time.
So where could he safely house technology that absolutely could not be exposed?
That question was giving Henry a headache.
Reviewing his resources, the safest location was undoubtedly the undersea server site.
So… an underwater laboratory?
But the turbine generators driven by ocean currents were already struggling to meet existing power demands.
His first undersea server—about the size of a twenty-seat mid-sized bus—had devoted more than half its internal volume to power generation equipment.
To supply a full laboratory?
He'd have to carpet the seafloor with generators like solar panels.
Sometimes he envied superheroes and secret organizations in movies and comics.
They could establish hidden bases anywhere.
Electricity and water were endless.
And somehow no one discovered them until the series finale.
As if governments were blind.
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