Max took a deep breath at this revelation.
It was mid-February 2005, and owning part of these two buildings in New York City—never mind the rest—was enough to place him close to billionaire territory.
These earnings were his net share, calculated after deducting management fees, other shareholders' cuts, taxes, and the various expenses required to run and maintain the buildings.
Those responsibilities had been delegated to professional management teams.
Unlike Stark Tower, which had been built to embody Tony's vision for clean energy and advanced research, these towers hadn't been constructed with a singular purpose.
They were simply valuable assets with diverse tenants and functions—versatile but lacking any particular speciality.
However, he only owned a portion of them. His father likely hadn't had the resources or influence to fund their construction independently.
Of course, Max's assets weren't comparable to tech giants generating enormous profits, but based on what he'd already learned, he was clearly in the upper echelons of New York society.
His eyes then settled on the Sky Tower dealings.
Many of its floors were rented by major corporate firms, with Stark Industries occupying the largest share—five entire floors.
That said a lot about their desire to maintain a presence in every major city.
This also confirmed something important: Stark Tower, one of the most iconic landmarks in the MCU, hadn't been built yet.
The extraordinary public era of this world hadn't begun—not for the masses, at least.
As for what happened in the shadows, he didn't know. And right now, he didn't want to.
His current situation didn't allow him to peer into the abyss.
For the public, everything would begin with Tony Stark—flamboyant playboy turned redemption-arc hero—declaring himself Iron Man.
And then, two green monsters would duke it out in Harlem, each trying to prove whose fists were better suited for destruction.
Lacking a proper arena, they'd turn the neighbourhood into rubble, flattening Harlem and its people.
And somehow, it would all end with romantic kisses among the ruins—such was the kind of love story Marvel liked to tell.
But then something struck him as odd. Something didn't add up.
He reviewed the documents again and found the source of his unease.
The Knight household was old money in New York. They should've owned more assets—properties in other cities, land, and historical assets.
Yet here, he saw only two revenue-generating ventures. What happened to the rest of the family's wealth?
And where had the money gone from selling land during the city's booming decades?
He hesitated for a moment before speaking up, his voice tinged with frustration.
"Uncle, these documents don't explain everything. I don't find myself as wealthy as I expected."
Victor cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed by Max's bluntness, but he responded calmly.
"Your father was a visionary. He believed technology was the future, so he sold off many properties to invest in tech startups and acquire shares in promising companies."
"But then the dot-com bubble burst, and nearly everything was lost. In the end, he even had to sell shares in companies like Stark Industries just to avoid bankruptcy. That's how we ended up here."
Victor paused, studying Max's face.
"Still, you have two more duplexes—one in Los Angeles and another in Washington, D.C. Few acres of land in the countryside and some of the disputed territories I'm dealing with on your behalf. The rest of the assets are gone. New York holds your only revenue-generating holdings now."
He watched Max closely, but the young man remained silent, absorbing the blow. Victor let him process the news in silence.
Max was speechless with his lips parted with no response. As someone from the internet age, he understood just how life-changing the right tech investment could be.
He'd only ever read about the dot-com crash in articles and history pieces. Now, that same tragedy was reaching across time to slap him in the face.
Of course, he didn't blame his father. The direction had been right—technology was the future.
But who could've predicted the collapse before the boom? Many had gambled and lost everything.
At least the Knights still retained assets that generated revenue. He wouldn't have to work for anyone else just to survive.
He sighed in exasperation.
Just his current holdings were enough for a life of luxury: a mansion, a penthouse, two duplexes, and two commercial towers with high-income potential.
One of those towers even carried the family name—Knight Plaza—a sign of legacy in the skyline.
He could've spent his days basking in comfort and indulgence. But no—he had to be transmigrated into the Marvel Universe.
A new worry entered his mind: how much of this wealth would survive the coming storm?
The Battle of New York.
Sky Tower wouldn't survive. Midtown Manhattan would become a warzone, with Stark Tower at its epicentre. Everything nearby would be reduced to dust and debris.
Times Square would likely fall too, considering how freely the Chitauri had used explosives in the film.
He didn't believe the Avengers had saved much in that fight—aside from a few lives.
Maybe his mansion and penthouse would remain, but that wasn't much comfort.
He sighed again, deeply troubled by the uncertainty of his future.
Victor, noticing his prolonged silence, assumed Max was preoccupied with his father's losses.
He understood—that when investments failed so spectacularly, the next generation had to be cautious, and prepared to avoid repeating past mistakes.
So he tried to comfort Max.
"Son, don't dwell on the past. No one saw it coming. And many lost more than we did."
Max forced a smile and nodded. He understood. But how could he possibly explain what was really on his mind?
Beyond disappointment, he couldn't shake the thought:
If his father had held on to even a small amount of Stark Industries stock, the family would be swimming in wealth later—riding Tony's fame and revolutionary tech to the top.
Still, he had to move forward.
Maybe this was the truth of the wealthy: the poor cry for food, the rich cry for pleasure.
And when pleasure becomes mundane, only power remains.
What a fate.
Just then, Victor spoke again.
"Oh, and don't forget about your father's company—KTech. A lot of people think it has real potential."
Victor instantly regretted his slip for shift in topic, but it was too late.
Max's eyes lit up.
For the first time since this conversation began, a spark of interest flickered in his gaze.
Maybe owning a company was the game-changer he'd been looking for.
….
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