Game in Marvel-Chapter 140

While Liam and Triss were traversing foreign lands, something else was happening in Oxenfurt. At the autumn night, flames raged in the distance. Tony Stark and Clint Barton stood atop the university, watching the dye factories collapse in on themselves, spewing smoke and embers into the night sky.

"Everyone get out safe?" Barton asked while continuing his look at the burning flames.

"Yeah. No injuries. No deaths. Just a lot of people out of work now." Tony's jaw tightened.

"Good. Then we can move forward." Barton said.

"Move forward? You mean after burning down two industries and putting half the damn district out of work?" Tony turned to him, incredulous.

"We both knew this was going to happen. Those bastards weren't going to stop. They would've come after us sooner or later." Barton not being fazed at all said.

"And instead of outmaneuvering them, you torched their livelihoods." Tony said.

"You are the one to talk Tony since you have done worse. Besides, it's not all of them." He turned back toward the fire. "Before this, I talked to some of the workers. The ones who weren't completely loyal or scared out of their minds. Told them if things went south, I'd have a place for them. My new shop is hiring, and I'll take as many of them as I can."

"And the rest?"

"Some of them were too afraid to leave. Others? Too loyal. You know the type—men who'd rather sink with the ship than abandon their 'betters.' Couldn't do anything about them." Barton said.

"I should've known you wouldn't just light the match without thinking ahead. Still, you left a lot of people stranded." Tony ran a hand through his hair.

"I did what I could," Barton said. "And you?"

"I've got some connections. Some of them can be placed elsewhere. Maybe in the university's workshops, maybe in private businesses that could use skilled hands." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "But damn it, Clint. You didn't need to take it this far." Tony sighed.

"I did. Otherwise, we'd be the ones burning next." Clint said.

Tony looked back at the fire, the collapsing structures hissing as they caved inward. He wasn't happy, but he also knew Barton wasn't wrong. This world didn't play fair. And besides it was a trial. A trial for them and also Liam, the better their performance, the better the results.

But still Tony wasn't happy at all. Living with them only cemented his love with the locals and the people around. All humans weren't bad. It was just some bad apples manipulating the ignorant ones. Tony could also sense that as the days went by, the professors of the university weren't exactly fond of him.

The only reason they had been silent was because Radovid was dead and thus they just lost their political backing and funding. Though the houses remained, it didn't mean all the houses went along with each other. It was chaos inside and the only reason Tony was left was because he was neutral to begin with and had loads of money.

But Tony knew, once some of them were pushed to a worse situation they would turn on him since for most people Tony was a walking gold with ideas that could make an industry bloom. Tony wasn't immune. Not yet.

The fires in Oxenfurt had long since died down, leaving behind the blackened skeletons of what were once the largest dye factories in the region. The merchants who had ruled that trade—Vespasian Leovold and Dorian Massengill—had lost everything overnight.

At first, they refused to believe it. They still had gold, still had connections, but those meant little when the heart of their business had been turned to ash. The merchants had spent years consolidating their power, ensuring their businesses were too vital to fail. Yet, in a single night, their dominion had crumbled.

And they knew exactly who was responsible.

Clint Barton.

The name burned in their minds like a brand. The foreigner had not only defied them—he had humiliated them, taken what was theirs, and worse, he had gotten away with it.

Leovold and Massengill had no choice but to leave. The University's council, ever pragmatic, had not lifted a finger to aid them. With Radovid dead and no clear successor holding power, the old alliances meant little.

They left in secret, taking with them a handful of loyal men—guards, accountants, and enforcers who had no future in Oxenfurt now that their employers were ruined. They traveled by carriage under the cover of night, heading northwest toward Novigrad, where wealth still ruled and where desperate men could find new footing.

The merchants had connections, but after their fall from power, trust was hard to come by. Even former allies saw them as liabilities, afraid of the chaos that followed in their wake.

By the time they reached Novigrad, their men were restless, and their reputation was all but shattered.

But they still had one advantage.

They knew the name of a monster that could tip the scales back in their favor.

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Many days had passed since the two merchants and their associates had settled in. But that didn't mean, the two merchants, had forgotten of what had gone down in Oxenfurt. This man named Barton decided to sweep in one day and turn the whole dye industry of the kingdom upside down within a few months.

The dye which was costly and could be called as luxury, suddenly became cheaper than theirs. It started slowly as the prices didn't take a nose dive. The two merchants didn't even pay attention to it at the beginning but as the days went by, and the prices started dropping faster than they could ever retaliate.

And to top it off, Barton sold all the colors in a singular price. Even the color blue was cheap. This was the nail in the coffin and thus the two merchants started coercing Barton to give up the formula or the business so that they could get a share of their profits. They did every means possible to subvert Barton.

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