William returned to his apartment, closing the door behind him and shutting out the clamor of New York.
His fingertip lightly touched the sensor light in the entryway, and a soft glow instantly streamed forth, illuminating the quiet room.
The air still seemed to carry that unique scent from Tony Stark's workshop.
It was the smell of high-purity ozone mixed with hot metal, the scent of a genius and a madman.
He unhurriedly unbuttoned his cuffs, rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, revealing the "foolproof plan" that gleamed with a dull luster under the light.
The cold titanium alloy pressed against his skin, yet it seemed to possess life, emitting a subtle resonance.
This feeling was peculiar, like a silent ally, and also like a wordless vow.
This thing wasn't just armor; Tony, that guy, though sharp-tongued, knew better than anyone else in his heart.
It wasn't a knocking stone, but an admission ticket.
William walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the streets below, shimmering like golden rivers.
The city's pulse was strong and powerful, bustling yet detached.
He could even imagine Tony at this moment, probably holding a glass of expensive whiskey, announcing another one of his victories to an empty workshop.
Thinking of this, William couldn't help but find it a little amusing.
His phone in his pocket vibrated slightly, and the faint glow of the screen was particularly noticeable in the dim room.
He swiped to unlock the screen; it was a new message from Peter Parker.
"Mr. William, it's me, Peter."
A few seconds after the first message, a second one popped up immediately.
"Aunt May… she agreed! She wants to know the specifics of the insurance you mentioned."
The third one came with a string of emojis.
"When is a good time for us to meet?! (✪ω✪)"
The words between the lines conveyed the unique urgency and almost overflowing excitement of a teenager, along with that undeniable hint of nervousness.
William's thumb unconsciously rubbed the cold metal edge of his phone.
May Parker.
This name was like a threshold that had to be crossed carefully, with the highest precision calculations, to be safe.
Her agreement was the most crucial closed loop in the entire plan.
William didn't reply immediately; his brain was already working like a supercomputer, rapidly constructing all possibilities for the meeting.
Location was the primary factor.
Stark Tower?
No.
That place was less a company and more Tony Stark's personal totem.
Having an ordinary lady from Queens walk into that giant tower of steel and glass to meet a stranger was itself a form of invisible pressure, which would only make her bristle.
His own apartment?
Even worse.
For a highly vigilant guardian, a private invitation was almost equivalent to a banquet with ulterior motives.
It had to be a gentle, neutral place, full of life, where she could subconsciously relax.
William pulled up a map of Queens, his fingertip sliding rapidly across the screen, as candidate locations were filtered, analyzed, and then eliminated.
Finally, his finger stopped on a highly-rated community coffee shop.
"Morning Light Cafe."
Online pictures showed that its decor was in a retro warm tone, specializing in handmade desserts and freshly ground coffee, and customer reviews were filled with words like "sunshine," "warmth," and "neighborly taste."
Perfect.
He began to draft his reply, every word carefully considered.
"Peter, glad to hear from you."
"How about tomorrow afternoon at 3 PM? At 'Morning Light Cafe' in Queens; I'll make the arrangements."
Click send.
The small circle next to the message spun for only half a second before showing "delivered."
Almost at the same moment, a new message popped up impatiently.
"That's great! Aunt May said she knows that place! She said their apple pie is the best in Queens!"
A string of exclamation marks unreservedly revealed the teenager's excited gestures on the other end of the screen.
The corner of William's mouth finally curved into a barely perceptible arc.
Very good, the parameters for the first step were entered correctly.
He slowly added another sentence.
"Don't be nervous, Peter. This is just a simple chat, not a formal meeting."
"Think of it as afternoon tea between neighbors."
After this message was sent, the other party unexpectedly fell silent for a long time.
William waited patiently.
He could almost imagine Peter handing the phone to Aunt May, that sharp and loving lady, scrutinizing his wording line by line on the small screen, analyzing any potential traps.
Finally, the reply arrived late.
"Okay, Mr. William. See you tomorrow."
This time, there were no exclamation marks at the end, not even Peter's usual emoticons.
The tone was polite and distant, formal and proper.
It was May Parker's tone.
William put down his phone, and a faint electrical sensation came from the "foolproof plan" on his left arm; the internal bio-electric resonance system seemed to sense the subtle fluctuations in its Master's mood and was self-adjusting.
He raised his arm, slowly clenching his five fingers before his eyes.
The metal skeleton responded accordingly, emitting a series of almost inaudible mechanical clicking sounds, as power was conveyed smoothly and precisely to each joint.
This masterpiece, combining Stark Industries' cutting-edge technology with his inspiration, not only proved his worth but also guaranteed the execution of his plan.
But this was just the beginning.
The real challenge was the cup of coffee and the perhaps delicious apple pie tomorrow afternoon.
He needed to convince a stubborn, kind woman who was fiercely protective of her nephew.
To make her believe in a "goodwill" from a stranger that was too good to be true.
To make her accept an "insurance plan" that could completely change Peter Parker's life.
Outside the window, the traffic converged into rivers of light, reflecting on the glass and overlapping with William's figure.
His gaze was deep, as if piercing through the night.
He knew that in distant Queens, a teenager was tossing and turning, unable to sleep due to excitement and longing, hoping for a safeguard that would free him from worrying about his family's financial situation.
And a lady would also be sleepless.
She would worry, she would speculate, she would be like a lioness protecting her cub, preparing countless sharp questions, wary of any strange scent that dared to approach her family.
William turned and walked into the kitchen, taking out a bottle of ice water from the refrigerator and pouring himself a full glass.
He tilted his head back and drank it all, the cold liquid sliding down his throat, bringing his mind, which had been heated by the smooth progress of the plan, back to absolute calm and clarity.
No matter what questions and tests May Parker had prepared for tomorrow.
He had a foolproof plan.