Marvel: Playing Iron Man, Falling In and Out of Love with Jinx

"Since we're already dancing on a knife's edge, why not choose a path more acceptable to the public?"

Duke shrugged at Miss Fortune, who frowned and slumped back into her chair. "But… is that really feasible?"

"Why not?" Duke retorted with a grin. "Bilgewater is a melting pot of Runeterra's races and cultures. You can find anyone here, any race, any origin!"

"And that's one of your greatest natural advantages!"

"Once Bilgewater shifts from a pirate haven to a mercenary stronghold, you'll gain an edge in undertaking missions across the continent."

"Besides," he continued, "with Gangplank gone, we can consolidate all the city's factions and establish a new order, one that tells them the chaotic days are over."

"But you think those bastards will just obediently listen?"

"Which is why we need to organize them, build a structured mercenary guild. Offer support and services to every registered member."

"We'll divide mercenaries into ranked tiers, and missions by difficulty. Tasks, rewards, everything clear and regulated."

"But what if these booze-soaked womanizers cause trouble after finishing a job?"

"Then we'll build a pleasure hall, a money pit. Let them earn gold and pour it all back into the luxuries we provide, keeping their wallets empty."

In his past life, Duke had played enough games to know: there were always whales, players who loved to spend big. Especially in a city like this, full of wild spenders.

"Once the guild gets rolling and someone takes the first leap, more and more will follow. Mercenaries will flood in, bringing us wealth."

"And with a standing force, even the annual Harrowing won't be Bilgewater's nightmare anymore."

"If this plan works," he said, "Bilgewater will embrace a future like never before."

Duke laid out his entire vision. He wasn't the type to sit idle, but with no lab here and the docks being too crude to work in, he had time to think about turning Bilgewater into one of his revenue streams.

When the idea of Hexgate came to mind, he realized it would revolutionize all transportation across Runeterra.

Why would anyone stick to traditional sea trade when they could teleport goods across the ocean and continent in a blink?

Once Hexgate was operational, people across Runeterra would come flocking to Piltover, begging for installation in their cities.

This would completely overhaul the transportation industry and eliminate Bilgewater's edge as a natural port.

And with the Black Mist assaulting Bilgewater every year, who would choose to stay?

Eventually, the city could become a ghost town.

But after everything he'd done, would Duke just sit back and watch Bilgewater crumble under the weight of progress?

Absolutely not.

The moment he thought of Miss Fortune's title, the Bounty Hunter, he was struck by inspiration: transform Bilgewater into a city of mercenaries.

Using Hexgate's convenience, Bilgewater's people could reach any part of Runeterra within minutes. And Runeterra? It was far from peaceful.

Noxus simmered in civil unrest. Demacia was a land of repressed tension. Ionia would eventually face another invasion once the Crow had consolidated power.

In the icy north, the tribes of Freljord were constantly at war.

Even putting those aside, the upcoming Harrowing in just twelve days would demand immense manpower and resources to fend off.

Bilgewater was especially vulnerable, so much so that even the children of Nagakabouros avoided the place, offering no divine protection.

So then, if Bilgewater became a mercenary city, would the Black Mist still be able to wreak such havoc?

The way to unite people wasn't slogans or empty promises. It was intertwined interests. Link their profits together, and they'll fight to protect them.

Then, the Harrowing wouldn't be Bilgewater's nightmare, it'd be its proving ground.

Of course, the Ruination in the years to come was another headache entirely.

Viego, the most lovesick man in all of Runeterra, could shroud half the continent in Black Mist with a single outburst.

But that was a problem for future Duke.

For now, he'd focus on transforming Bilgewater, preparing it to be his personal cash cow.

Once the city transitioned, with Duke backing it, Bilgewater's rise as a mercenary capital would only be a matter of time.

And as the man pulling the strings, Duke would effectively command the muscle of an entire city.

Just as Duke and Miss Fortune were deep in conversation, the door to the captain's quarters was kicked open. Graves strode in, chomping on a cigar and hauling his new weapon over his shoulder. Neeko slipped in behind him.

"Boss, I'm taking a little leave, just half a day. I'll be back tonight!" Graves said casually, cigar rolling between his lips.

"Going where?" Duke paused, eyeing Graves' obvious escape attempt.

"Why're you asking so many questions? I'm just taking a break!" Graves snapped. "If you weren't the one who built my gear, I'd have shot you already!"

"Damn it. If I wait any longer, that bastard Twisted Fate will be long gone!"

"No point staying here busting my ass. Might as well go settle the score with him."

Of course, none of this was said out loud. If he'd dared, Duke might have had Axiom beat him into a pulp and make him eat it.

Graves only thought these things. But even with that, Duke could hear them loud and clear.

"I'm just going back to my place to pack a few things!"

The mental noise gave Duke a headache. He massaged his temples as Graves smiled innocently, his "escape plan" written all over his face.

"Your place? Please. That rat hole down by the docks? Even sewer rats cry when they walk in."

Duke sighed, rubbing his brow. "Fine, fine, go. Just don't be late. We've got a banquet tonight."

"You got it, boss!" Graves laughed heartily and strutted out of the captain's quarters, his new cannon, Fate, slung across his back.

"You just let him go?" Miss Fortune narrowed her eyes. "That guy's clearly planning to run."

"I know," Duke said, ruffling Neeko's hair. He pointed after Graves. "Wanna bet he comes crawling back by tonight?"

"I don't buy it. What's the wager?"

"You decide."

"In that case, if I win, you're mine for a whole day," Miss Fortune said, curling a finger seductively at Duke. "If I lose, you can do whatever you want to me."

Her eyes sparkled with playful danger. Duke didn't hesitate. "Deal."

"You better not back out!"

"Never."

"Hahaha! The world is my playground now!"

Graves walked off the ship, each step screaming "don't know him, don't talk to me." His new weapon rested on his shoulder, his exosuit hidden beneath his cloak.

"That kid actually believed me. What an adorable fool!"

"First, a drink, then I'll track down that bastard Twisted Fate."

Graves vanished into the crowd, unaware that Duke had read every thought he tried so hard to conceal.

That evening.

At a local tavern,

"Another round!"

Graves slapped a Silver Siren coin on the counter, his 'travel fund,' swiped from Miss Fortune's ship.

The bartender gave him a glance, then passed over a bottle of hard liquor.

"Hey, pal. You seen a guy wearing a hat with an Ace of Spades stuck in the band?"

"You mean Twisted Fate, the Card Master?"

"Exactly. That bastard and I need to have a chat."

Graves patted the massive cannon beside him. The bartender's eyes flicked toward the weapon. "He was spotted at Glory of Fortune recently. Cleaned house at the tables."

"But at the end, someone crashed the party."

"I heard he vanished in the nick of time, with all the winnings."

A nearby patron edged closer, eyeing Graves' weapon greedily. "Hey, old man. That gun looks sick. Where'd you get it?"

Graves raised Fate and aimed it at the guy's forehead.

"Sure. Right after I blow your head off and use your brain matter to write the address."

"Okay, okay, chill!"

The man quickly backed away. Graves finished his drink and rose to leave, intent on finding Twisted Fate.

"Wonder if Duke's still waiting for me like an idiot..."

Graves chuckled as he stepped into the street.

"Like hell I'm going back. This freedom, it's too damn good!"

He stretched lazily and began peeling off his coat. "Weird, I'm not hot. Why am I undressing?"

"Wait… why am I taking off my pants?"

"What the hell, what's going on?! I'm not trying to streak down the street!"

"Stop! Somebody stop me!"

Back aboard the Siren,

"Well, since you love freedom so much, why not go full primal and embrace it completely?"

Duke smiled wickedly, having issued the command remotely.

"Enjoy your streaking, Graves."

End of chapter...

To be continued...

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