~Las Vegas, a city of miracles where angels and demons coexisted~
Perched on the edge of the Nevada desert, this gilded metropolis was one of the world's four great gambling hubs, renowned across the globe.
As the saying went: If you're down to your last few dollars, Vegas might turn your luck around. If you're drowning in wealth, Vegas might let you taste a hobo's carefree life.
Such was Las Vegas, one side heaven, the other hell.
A black Bentley pulled up to the entrance of the Vdara Hotel. The moment Sean stepped out, he was hit by a wave of splendor; luxury cars lined up like clouds, VIPs streaming in like rain, the clamor as scorching as the desert heat.
"You should've brought a date. Showing up with a boring guy like me is going to make this painfully dull," Dr. Connors teased.
They were here for the Department of Defense's awards banquet. Typically, attendees were major players in the defense industry, military contractors like Stark Industries and Hammer Industries.
Of course, there were also high-profile financiers from multinational conglomerates and well-connected socialites.
Entering the lavish hotel, Sean headed for the 20th-floor banquet hall. The place guarded by heavily armed soldiers. Without an invitation or a guest referral, no one could slip in unnoticed.
The event hadn't officially begun yet. Guests mingled in clusters, forming their own social circles. Soft, elegant music filled the air as waiters wove through the crowd and offering champagne with practiced grace.
"Hey, Sean! You're harder to track down than the damn President, at least I can catch him on TV." Harry who had arrived days earlier strode over and pulled Sean into a hearty embrace.
The young CEO of Oscorp seemed to have moved past the shadow of his father's death, shedding his former naivety for a more composed demeanor.
"Sean, you have no idea, Vegas is paradise. Every indulgence you can imagine is here. World-class cuisine, smoking-hot women... name it, they've got it!"
'...Never mind. First impression revoked.' Watching Harry's animated, salesman-like enthusiasm, Sean quietly retracted his earlier assessment.
Even with the weight of Oscorp on his shoulders, Harry's hedonistic streak hadn't faded. He and Tony Stark would probably get along famously.
"I've been busy finalizing the new lab's location and layout," Sean said smoothly. Dr. Connors wouldn't contradict him.
"Dr. Connors mentioned Oscorp's biotech expansion isn't going smoothly?"
Harry's excitement deflated instantly, as if doused with ice water, "It's Worthington Industries. A legacy player in biotech, basically the Stark Industries of pharma. If they've got Oscorp in their crosshairs, breaking into the medical market will be hell unless we give up a chunk of profits."
"Deep connections? Influence?" Sean frowned.
The name Worthington rang a faint bell.
"Worthington is a U.S. healthcare giant. Half the senators on Capitol Hill are on their guest list, and they're tight with the military. ALZ-112 was supposed to pass clinical trials and hit the market last week, but roadblocks popped up, and all of them traced back to Worthington."
Harry slumped slightly. Even his father, Norman Osborn, would've struggled against a behemoth like Worthington. Now, fresh off stabilizing his position on the board, Harry faced this colossal challenge.
"So you're looking for allies." Sean saw through the young Osborn's plan.
Harry nodded. Norman's sudden death had left him scrambling to inherit his father's network. With Oscorp under siege, his only play was to court influential military figures in hopes that their backing might intimidate Worthington.
Sean stayed silent. Harry's approach was naïve. Winning over military brass required more than bribes. Without tangible incentives, why would they stick their necks out for Oscorp?
"Any luck so far?" he asked quietly.
Harry grimaced, nodding toward a stern-faced man across the room, "First, I tried General Ross... He's hardline military and loves his weapons. But all he cared about was Oscorp's failed human-enhancement serum. Rumor is he's assembling a team to recreate the Super-Soldier formula..."
"...After him, I tried schmoozing a few other brass hats. Those old bastards wouldn't give me the time of day. But with Tony Stark? They're all smiles and handshakes!" Bitterness laced Harry's words.
He couldn't fathom why that arrogant playboy got red-carpet treatment while he got cold shoulders.
"Harry, Stark's got a genius brain the whole world knows about. Plus, his father was part of the Manhattan Project. The Starks have always had military ties." Sean clapped Harry on the shoulder, "Forget Worthington for tonight. Vegas makes problems disappear. Look on the bright side, you're younger and better-looking than that playboy. Check out the way those women are eyeing you."
"Uh... I have a girlfriend." Harry wavered, but as his gaze landed on the scantily clad women sending him sultry glances, his resolve crumbled.
Sean smirked, "Relax, I won't tell Mary Jane. There's an old East Asian saying: When life gives you joy, seize it..."
The pleasure-loving Osborn heir lasted all of two seconds before surrendering to Vegas's temptations as if the city's decadence could erase all his troubles.
"What about you Sean? Not joining the fun?" Harry asked, ever the loyal wingman.
"I heard a legend about this city. They say if you start with one dollar, double your bet each time, and ride that streak 30 rounds... you could win all of Las Vegas." Standing at the heart of the banquet, Sean grinned, "Tonight, I'm testing my luck to see if I can take this city for myself."