The trial was over, but Frank didn't look happy—
"Billy. He was my brother."
Billy Russo had been Frank's closest brother-in-arms after he joined the military. As an orphan, Billy was almost like a son to Frank.
Being betrayed by someone you love is a bitter feeling.
It wasn't like Frank hadn't tried to reach out—he had asked Billy to testify in court.
"I went to him. But he said he had too much business going on, and for the sake of the company, he couldn't risk confronting the CIA, NSA, or the damn American military. Shit!"
Frank cursed under his breath. Leo simply patted him on the back. "Costly lesson, but it showed you who he really is."
"Maybe…"
"No, maybe," Leo cut off Frank's hopeful denial. "Maybe he didn't have the heart to betray you outright this time, but think about it—he built his company by getting in bed with those cold-blooded bastards.
Now he has to flee this country he's worked so hard in, watch everything he built go up in smoke.
Don't fool yourself. He'll only resent you more. He'll hate himself for not killing you and your family with his own hands."
Frank walked beside Leo, exiting the courthouse. At the bottom of the steps, a crowd awaited them: journalists, officials, even military officers ready to celebrate their victory.
The joy of triumph clashed with the pain of betrayal. As Frank looked out at the cheering crowd, a subtle complexity crept into his emotions.
How many of these people truly believed in this so-called "victory of justice"?
"Don't overthink it," Leo told him. "No matter what, we won. What's next is to embrace your real family and friends—and then, show the world who you are, and what kind of world you want.
Take two days off. We've got more work coming."
Frank followed behind Leo, letting those words sink in. He didn't even care what his boss was saying to the others.
When he finally lifted his head, he had already stepped down the stairs—his family was right in front of him.
His two kids clung to his legs, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
Frank smiled. The gloom in his heart vanished. He effortlessly lifted the kids onto his shoulders.
Then, he looked up—and beyond the security line, he saw a crowd of supporters waving banners and cheering for him.
Some wore military uniforms. Frank even recognized a few old comrades!
But many of them had canes, medical gear, or only one arm.
Those who were lucky enough and had earned enough merit got into veterans' homes. But most only received a severance package when discharged.
With no future, many numbed themselves—until the money ran out and life unraveled.
If Leo hadn't intervened, Frank might have ended up just like them.
The scene struck him. Leo's words echoed in his mind again.
Before the age of 38, Frank had only joined the army to support his family. Enlisting was just a job to him.
He joined to earn a living, and since he was good at fighting, he fought. Who he killed or what he did—it never really mattered to him.
But starting today, he realized those things did matter.
He used to scoff at laws and order, but not anymore. Now, he could feel something—abstract, hard to describe, but real.
Outside the courthouse, a reporter captured a perfect shot:
Frank with his two children on his shoulders, his wife beside him, gazing at the crowd of veterans and protestors behind the security line. Behind him stood politicians and officers.
That photo would make a powerful headline.
Meanwhile, at the International Genetic Cooperation Corporation, Leo convened a meeting.
This meeting would decide the company's next development direction.
Nuclear energy was the next field Leo's small team planned to break into—that much wasn't a secret.
But researching nuclear power required many levels of approval. Dr. Otto had some bad news on that front:
"Leo, the Nuclear Energy Commission said they're holding a seminar to review our application. As for when it ends…"
Leo put down the documents decisively. "Forget it. They're not idiots. They just don't want us doing this."
Politicians were rarely actual fools. If they acted like fools, there was always a reason, usually tied to real, concrete interests.
Dr. Otto looked confused. "But why? We have the credentials. The capabilities. I publish more papers in a year than their entire commission in a lifetime, with higher impact too…"
"They're being paid off," Leo shrugged.
Hammond immediately got it: "The oil barons! They don't want us meddling. If there's gonna be a nuclear power project, they want it to be theirs!"
Everyone at the table was sharp enough to catch on quickly.
What's the biggest obstacle to developing new energy? Just technology?
Humans aren't some unified robot collective.
The greatest obstacles to new tech are often the old monopolies. If fossil fuels are replaced by nuclear energy, the monopolists would cry.
This only confirmed Leo's suspicion.
The fuel recovered from the Vulture's suit and the Death Soldier's specialty bullets was likely fossil-based, strongly supporting Leo's guess:
The ultra-rich supplier behind HYDRA was almost certainly Roxxon Energy Corporation.
In the Marvel Universe, no other company has as much to do with energy.
And in terms of wealth, Roxxon is often portrayed as a background-level giant, unlike Iron Man's flashy wealth or Wakanda's sudden vibranium riches.
They weren't a stereotypical "villain corporation." They had no desire for revenge against society, no tragic backstory.
Their only goal had always been one thing: to monopolize the world's energy by any means possible and profit as much as they could.
Unless the comic's entire world order collapsed, Roxxon would always be there.
After many clashes, Leo was rising as a beacon of hope—but only rising. Roxxon might not be in the spotlight, but its influence on global affairs—and especially the U.S.—was immense.
As a super-company hellbent on monopolizing energy, they watched every potential new energy source and tech like hawks.
First, they monopolize energy. Then they use that to control the economy. And from there, they exert control over the United States. And from there, export a monopoly-based order to the world.
By that logic, places without oil, with fewer strategic interests, would have less control from Roxxon.
The EU's industry was probably in Roxxon's grip. They might not like it, but reality was stronger than will—so Europe was out of the question.
Middle East? Too hot.
Oceania? No space.
Russia? Too unstable.
That left one option: Africa.
Yes, it lagged behind—but it also meant more freedom.
For the locals, even these "weaker" forms of control were insurmountable barriers. But with Leo bringing high-tech into the mix, everything changed.
Roxxon focused on Middle Eastern oil. Leo would open a new front.
Everyone chewed over Leo's plan.
Mentioning Africa brought to mind endless grasslands and people in grass skirts hunting animals…
But that's just the wild. The real danger lay in tangled city alleys, where poor Black youths with AKs waited in cover, not even showing their faces.
"Africa… is way more dangerous than New York," Martin muttered as he looked out the window. The place he'd dreamed of rebuilding was here—in this rich city—hoping to lift the poor into prosperity.
Leo turned to Frank. "That's why we have our own security company."
Martin still felt reluctant. This was his parents' city. The one he'd fought in for years.
"You're saying we abandon our prosperous New York HQ… and funnel resources into a place where people fight over food?"
Poor, backward, abandoning the richest part of the world for the most barren…
Insanity.
Leo understood Martin's thoughts—and knew what others would be thinking too.
Others might hesitate in this atmosphere. Reevaluate. But Leo wouldn't.
He knew that the one making the decision couldn't doubt himself. If you don't believe in yourself, it's the worst betrayal of those who do.
Logically and emotionally, this had to be done. He had already convinced himself. Now it was time to convince the others.
Leo tapped the table lightly. Everyone turned to him.
He leaned forward, pressing both hands to the table, and said, word by word:
"Our enemies plunder resources from wealthy lands, leaving behind ruins and wreckage.
But we will build a grand city in a backward world—to show the world its future.
It's easy to defeat someone physically. But only when you destroy their ideals is the victory complete.
From now on, we shift our entire strategy. Any questions?"
Frank was the first to raise his hand."I have one. When does my next mission start?"