Marvel, start by marrying the Scarlet Witch

At the same time, Carl was lounging on the couch at home with Wanda, munching on potato chips as they watched the same news clip Ross had seen earlier.

"I think this man must really have a strong grudge against Ross . Otherwise, why would he be this persistent?" Wanda blinked twice, staring at the image of Bronski on the screen. Despite being sedated, Bronski continued mumbling, "Ross, you idiot."

Carl nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, there's definitely bad blood between us. I'm guessing he's not the most honorable guy."

Carl had erased Bronski's and the other six soldiers' memories, replacing them with false dreams of becoming famous singers. On top of that, he had cast the Imperius Curse on them—an effort that seemed to be working remarkably well.

Shortly after the news broadcast about the group of delusional singers arrested in Times Square, a second headline flashed across the screen.

"Iron Man Tony Stark, who once claimed he alone could maintain world peace and that no one could surpass his Iron Man technology for the next ten years, encountered a formidable enemy during the Monaco Grand Prix. Stark barely escaped with his life. Let's take a look at what happened!"

As the host spoke, the screen switched to footage of the Monaco incident.

It opened with Tony, clad in a racing suit, stepping into a Formula One car to thunderous applause, joining a lineup of seasoned drivers. The race kicked off smoothly, but midway through, chaos erupted. A man in a crude exosuit stormed the track wielding electrified whips. With a single strike, he tore Tony's car in half and launched an attack.

Thankfully, Pepper and Happy arrived just in time with Tony's portable suitcase armor. After a fierce battle, Tony emerged victorious—but just barely.

The screen cut back to the studio, now joined by a well-dressed middle-aged man seated beside the anchor.

"We're now joined by Mr. Justin Hammer of Hammer Industries. Mr. Hammer, what's your take on all this?"

"Oh, I was there," Hammer replied, feigning concern. "That Russian terrorist almost killed Tony using nothing but a scrapheap of parts. Tony always said no one could rival him, but now look! Clearly, he's not as invincible as he claimed. I believe it's time for another congressional hearing. Stark's suit technology should be handed over to the government. We at Hammer Industries are already developing our own suits for national defense and making great progress."

As the report ended, Wanda turned to Carl with a puzzled look.

"Why did that man say Tony lost when he clearly won in the end?"

Carl held Wanda gently and explained, "You see, Wanda, when people start seeing a god bleed, they stop believing in gods."

He paused, then continued, "Until now, Tony always carried himself as unbeatable. He'd swoop in, crush terrorists, and stroll away unscathed. That aura of invincibility made people believe he could single-handedly ensure world peace."

"But now, even though Tony technically won, the public saw him vulnerable—almost killed by a guy wearing a glorified toaster. That's enough to shake their faith in him."

Wanda frowned, her expression laced with concern. "Tony may be arrogant, but I don't want his tech falling into government hands. If their soldiers get too strong, it could destabilize the whole world. Countries like Sokovia will suffer the most."

As a war orphan from Sokovia, Wanda understood better than anyone how dangerous it could be if one nation held overwhelming military superiority.

Carl ran a hand through her hair. "Don't worry. Tony's no pushover. He won't give in that easily. And if things go south, I'll step in."

He paused, his tone shifting. "Ivan Vanko is strong—but not enough to beat Tony. Still, he managed to drag Tony off his pedestal. But that was inevitable. Tony can't handle everything alone—not what's coming."

Carl's eyes darkened slightly. "But if the government—or worse, Hydra—gets their hands on the Iron Man tech, I'll have to act. The last thing we need is an army of Hydra-grade Iron Men."

Wanda squeezed his hand tightly. "Please don't get involved. It's too dangerous. I don't want to lose you."

Wanda's voice trembled slightly. She wanted peace in the world, but she valued Carl's safety more than anything else.

"I get it," Carl said softly. "Anyway, it's time to train."

He turned off the television and pulled Wanda up from the sofa. Together, they walked to the bedroom, where Carl opened the closet doors and stepped inside.

A soft white light greeted them, revealing a vast green field, scattered with metal training dummies and cutting-edge technology.

When Carl returned from the last trip to the Marvel main world, he had cast a Traceless Extension Charm inside this closet, expanding it to the size of a football field. He'd recently had it renovated by his subordinates, and today was its first official use.

This custom-built space, reminiscent of Newt Scamander's enchanted suitcase, served two main purposes: first, for Carl's own training in magic and ninjutsu, and second, to build up Wanda's combat instincts.

Knowing a spell isn't enough—real combat requires accuracy, timing, and the wisdom to use the right move at the right moment.

Wanda, despite her incredible power, had little experience in real battles. Left untrained, she might trip over a doorstep during a skirmish.

Of course, Carl didn't intend to put her through the intense regime he used for David and the others. At most, their sessions resembled playful couple workouts—like a game of magical badminton.

Their primary focus was on defense and evasion. Offense could come later.

After about an hour of training, Carl sent Wanda back to rest while he stayed to continue practicing.

Time passed quickly.

A week later, while Carl was deep in training—combining magical incantations with hand seals—a flurry of notifications exploded in his mind.

He opened his system interface and flipped to the side quest tab. His jaw dropped in shock, then broke into a wide grin.

"Holy hell… so many missions that reward small world time… I'll never finish them all—never!"