Life is Easier If You're Handsome novel Chapter 325

“You’re seriously getting mad over that again?”

“Do I look like I’m not mad?! That’s Stark’s legacy they’re messing with!”

On the TV, a vividly colored suit was clashing in a flashy battle scene.

A shot that kept being repeated. The news kept speculating about connections to Tony Stark, throwing out unconfirmed theories one after another.

All of it—

“What connection?! You can see it’s stolen! How is this okay?!”

—was setting off my friend Harley Keener’s temper.

“Calm down. Getting mad won’t change anything.”

“Exactly, it won’t! And that’s what’s messed up, don’t you think?!”

“Sure, sure, I get it. But I’m telling you to chill a little.”

“What’s so great about them?! What makes them so much of a genius?!”

“MIT, apparently.”

“I went to MIT too! What, I’m not a genius?! I got a full scholarship too, okay?!”

“Yeah, I know. I know.”

After several rounds of venting, Harley locked eyes with me and spoke again.

“We could totally do it too, if we wanted to.”

“...Don’t tell me you’re talking about that again.”

“You’re not into it?”

“It’s not that I’m not into it...”

I hesitated for a moment at his words.

The Avengers no longer existed. Well, they had kind of come back recently...

But even then, it was two different groups now, and it didn’t feel like the real Avengers anymore.

Especially without Iron Man and Captain America—can we even call what’s left the Avengers?

Maybe that’s why so many vigilante groups had popped up lately, claiming to carry on their legacy.

With that giant umbrella gone, crime rates were surging again. And citizens had started taking matters into their own hands.

The problem?

The police weren’t thrilled about it.

It was dangerous.

If someone got hurt, the cops would take the blame.

“If they succeed, the vigilantes get praised. If they fail, the police get shit on. From their perspective, everyone’s just another damn vigilante.”

So the bottom line was—

“Even if we stop a crime, how are we gonna escape the cops?”

The cleanup afterward was ridiculously hard. Stark could survive Senate hearings—but a couple of MIT grads in their mid-20s?

No way in hell.

“If the tail’s too long, you’ll get caught. So we’d need to operate openly. But then who’s going to deal with the consequences?”

Being a hero isn’t hard. Just wear a suit and beat up criminals when you see them.

The problem is taking responsibility for those actions.

From the moment your identity gets exposed, to the broader effects on society and those around you—you’ve got to be in a position where you can carry all of it.

Only then will people call you a hero.

“Harley, we’re not ready for that. You know that, right?”

“Th-That’s...”

“We can’t be someone like Iron Man.”

“S-Still...”

“I get it. Yeah, we’re smart. Got into MIT before our twenties, graduated early.”

But did you know? Stark got into MIT at 15. Graduated at 17. And on top of that—he was born into wealth.

“Good talent, great environment. Compared to that, we’re just... yeah, never mind.”

At those words, Harley dropped his gaze.

Sure, we got cutting-edge lab equipment from Stark once. But that was a long time ago.

The MIT scholarship? Long gone.

We poured everything into that thing gathering dust in the garage. Which is why—

“You don’t want investment from him, right?”

I was going to tell him to stop getting worked up over this—

“...Any other option would mean military funding. And that means the government would own it. Since they’re the ones fronting the capital.”

“Right, so we need to get back to working hard on our own robotics—”

“You could wear it, right? Our masterpiece.”

Harley’s eyes were still burning bright.

In those eyes, I could see the lingering faith in the words his hero once said—

"We’re connected."

“...”

“I can’t wear it. It’s too heavy... I can’t handle the load. But you’re different.”

“How am I different? We’re the same.”

“The NFL wanted you. They fought over you. And you turned it down.”

For our dream, right?

How could someone look so much like the kid I knew back then?

I shrugged at Harley’s words.

Maybe it’s too grand a journey for something that started in a garage. Maybe having the skills to chase a dream is actually more of a burden than a blessing.

While I was lost in that thought—

“EJ!”

Harley shouted my name, and I shot up from my seat. If I kept the conversation going now, I’d definitely lose.

“Wow, you’re calling me that all of a sudden?”

“We’re friends who went through that day together!”

“Thanks for forgiving me back then. And I still feel bad about what happened.”

But maybe it’s time to finally wake up from the dream.

I stepped out of the garage after saying that.

“...But I’m not giving up.”

His voice trailed after me faintly.

Clink.

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