"DUEL!" takes place during Daredevil #146

"... The countdown has begun! I will only wait so long… for a COWARD! The Man Without Fear! Bah! Where is this hero? I have offered him a challenge - a duel to the death to prove my total superiority! By now he must be aware of the price of his cowardice…"

Bullseye, the most wanted criminal in New York City, continued to rant into the camera of a local UHF station that had been broadcasting BOWLING FOR DOLLARS from a Brooklyn alley. He had burst into the live broadcast of a regional championship, throwing improbable objects at contestants, announcers and cameramen alike, demanding that Daredevil come down and "face his doom," or whatever.

"Who actually TALKS like that?" Terry Vance asked, sitting in the lobby of a Manhattan office building, watching the large screen television, drumming his fingers nervously. He had a backpack with him on his lap, clutching it nervously. On the wall behind him in large golden letters was VAN LUNT TRADING COMPANY, Terry and his father were waiting for an early morning appointment requested by the CEO and founder, Cornelius Van Lunt himself.

Terry had read up on Van Lunt, a one-time financial tycoon who had recently been released from Federal prison. What had been proven in court was that after decades of ruthless, cut-throat and occasionally illegal business dealings, building up a minor investment house into one of the five most successful investment houses, Van Lunt had decided to turn to "superhuman crime." Working with a group known as the Zodiac Cartel, under the name "Taurus," Cornelius had dressed in a bull costume and made terroristic threats to use a mix of super-science and mysticism to "instantly murder everyone born under the zodiac sign of Gemini in the New York City region." The Avengers had swiftly put an end to the Zodiac Cartel, and captured Cornelius Van Lunt red handed and in costume. Everyone on Wall Street assumed that Van Lunt, one of the 20 richest men in the country, must have lost his mind to be involved in such a cartoonish scheme. The Zodiac Cartel hadn't even explained how they expected to profit from killing a twelfth of the city.

Van Lunt's lawyers wound up pleading temporary insanity in the case. No proof existed that Van Lunt had been involved in the Zodiac Cartel's activities more than a few weeks before the "Gemini debacle" as the papers called it. Scientists testified that astrology was bunk, that there was no possible way to magically "wish people to die" based on their birthday. In the end, Cornelius had been convicted of making terroristic but empty threats, some destruction of property, creating a nuisance, and conspiracy to commit a bad practical joke.

In an interview with The Daily Bugle financial section after the trial, Van Lunt explained his actions as resulting from envy of the fame and notoriety that costumed criminals had, mixed with the effects of alcoholism ruining his judgement. Several years of jail time had caused his business partners and investors and creditors to divide up his assets, until all the former "Bull of American Business" had nothing left but his name and a ruined reputation.

He had been released shortly prior to the incident that had earned Terry Vance a one year suspension from Empire State University, and he had contacted Terry just after the city-wide cleanup from the "Graviton incident." Terry's parents hadn't been thrilled with the idea, but Terry had insisted on going. He had idolized Sherlock Holmes since he had read A STUDY IN SCARLET at four years old, and the chance to meet an ACTUAL criminal mastermind was too good to pass up. He did promise not to sign anything, make any promises, or run off to join a criminal conspiracy.

The young woman at the reception desk received a phone call, and indicated to Terry to follow her back into the main offices. He did, scanning the office suites he passed through. Offices were empty, interior windows showed signs of dust. The carpet and furnishings were showing their wear. The offices of the latest version of the Van Lunt Trading Company were based in one of the three office buildings Van Lunt still owned as a landlord, but there clearly wasn't much of a budget for staff or upkeep.

They entered a large, very well decorated office, behind a rather beautiful antique desk sat Cornelius Van Lunt, looking older and somehow smaller than he had looked in the news photos Terry had found from before the old man's arrest. He stood, and came around the desk, a hand out in a sincere seeming greeting.

"Professor Vance, I appreciate your coming on short notice. I bribed an editor at your publisher so I could read your book before it was released, and I HAD to meet you." Van Lunt stood well over six foot, with a massive well muscled build that was suited to a heavyweight boxer. Balding, with long hair at the back, and a very distinctive handlebar mustache. He was nearly seventy, and he looked older than that around the eyes. Terry noticed his suit was a bit out of fashion, the tie a bit wider and louder than would blend in with a younger crowd.

"He certainly looks the part of an old school criminal," Terry thought as he shook the man's hand, noticing the firm, solid handshake. But calling him "professor" was a nice touch, flattery always helps.

Terry sat down without being invited to, deciding to play the part of "peer" instead of "subordinate" to the older man. "I am glad to make your acquaintance. I was surprised to hear from you, as I understood your interests ran more to real estate and high finance. My work is more technical, although I have a lot of hobbies outside of robotics and chemistry. Where do our interests intersect?"

Van Lunt sat, opened a drawer, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. "In business, it pays to be diverse. I have to adapt and change, or I'll be left behind. Years ago, owning land and brokering deals to acquire companies was the key to a fortune. Now, ideas and innovations are what builds fortunes. Besides, with my criminal history, I am barred from going back into some sorts of high finance, and my reputation is still damaged. But if I can find someone with big ideas and buy INTO them, I can own a bit of whatever the future holds."

The old man inhaled deeply, enjoying the tobacco. "I'm impressed with some of the ideas you worked into your history of robotics. For instance, you detailed a dozen or more opportunities that the Williams brothers had to revolutionize the economy with their "Flexo" robot that they completely missed. Only THREE of them were obvious to me in hindsight. And you detailed all the advances in organ transplants and artificial limbs that Phineas Horton could have given the world instead of giving us ONE Human Torch. Reading between the lines, I can tell that you are very good at taking someone else's ideas and finding a good use for them."

"So you DON'T want my help building a robot army to conquer the world?" Terry felt annoyed at the smoke, and decided to be blunt. "One of my mentors at the university gets contacted by recruiters from Latveria every ear, asking her to come build kill-bots for Dr. Doom. I'm almost disappointed that no one wants ME to design their war machines."

Van Lunt picked up a remote control, pressed a button, and cleverly concealed ventilation fans cleared the air of cigar smoke. "I apologize, I should have turned those on before lighting up. No, I don't want to put you to work making a robot army, Professor. I've done quite enough time in jail already. I had plenty of time to think, and I had a rather good psychiatrist to discuss things with. But you are right, sooner or later someone will probably try to get you to go down that particular road. I had HYDRA and the Maggia try to recruit me in jail, and I've had several offers since I got out. But I am going to stay on the straight and narrow, and I suggest you do the same. Do you want to know WHY I am going to be a legitimate businessman from now on?"

"I am curious," Terry admitted.

The old man stood up and walked to the window, looking into the sky. "Dr. Ludgate pointed out that the reason everyone does anything other than take care of staying alive is to find a way to feel important. All anyone NEEDS is a full belly and a warm place to sleep. Everything else is just a way to feel loved, or feared, or noticed or to feel like someone else cares about you. I was rich, and powerful and had thousands of employees and hundreds of millions of dollars to play with. But it wasn't enough. I had to be BIGGER and MORE important, and have more people know who I was and think to themselves, that Cornelius Van Lunt, DAMN is he an INCREDIBLE, SMART, TOUGH guy! He should be KING OF THE WORLD."

"So I went a little bit nuts. I put on a bull costume, and tried to scare the world, to make myself feel more important. I wanted the whole world to think about me and be TERRIFIED of me. I was thinking that would make me feel like a god, if I was enough of a monster."

"I was an idiot. People are only scared of a monster until the NEXT monster comes along. Heroes don't really matter either, really. They get forgotten just as fast as monsters. That's no way to feel important, not for long. And humans NEEDS to feel like they matter. When Dr. Ludgate helped me realize that, it all made sense."

Terry had never really thought about these things, and was more interested than he had expected. "So what is the solution? If it isn't to be a monster or a hero?"

"BUILD something. Something so big it will never be knocked down in a hundred lifetimes," Van Lunt said, turning around, pointing at Terry. "I tried to build a big pile of CASH and no one remembered because it was just cash. I tried to scare the world, and someone scarier did it better a month later so no one remembered me. But if I'd really BUILT something! Like FORD or Howard Hughes, or RAY KROC… Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"I think so…" Terry Vance nodded, thinking of Newton, Tesla, Norman Borlaug. "Being a hero or a monster doesn't last. So do something that lasts." He thought of Sherlock Holmes, and how in the stories, Holmes considered his discoveries in "how to solve mysteries" was more important than the actual mysteries he solved.

"Good, I'm glad you get it. Now remember it, because sooner or later it will be important. So do you want to hear my offer, young man?"

Terry nodded, deep in thought.

"I used some money and some connections, and I have access to records from over a dozen of the top super-scientists the world has to offer. Raw data of their research. Blueprints of their best inventions, secret formulas, theoretical physics and things I don't even know the proper words for. Not just a few things, it amounts to millions of pages if it was printed out. This is technology that could change humanity in a billion ways, and it is being used by selfish idiots to make themselves feel important instead of DOING THINGS, do you understand?

"If you can find ways to turn these doomsday machines and robotic fighting suits and so on into something USEFUL, and I can find a way to SELL them to people, we get to matter. We get to be the most important people in the world. Better than any hero, any monster. Turn their private toys into tools the world can use.

Terry liked the idea, but…. "That could take years… decades…"

"That's why I wanted to find someone young as possible, who can take time to work all this out. Fortunately I have someone ELSE working on drugs to help me live for a few more decades," the old man said with a grin. "I have business partners who also understand what Dr. Ludgate taught me."

"Who are your partners?" Terry asked, pondering the idea of looking at Doctor Doom's raw data, Arnim Zola's lab notes, Anton Vanko's blueprints…

"All in good time," Cornelius "Taurus" Van Lunt said with a smile.

Miles away, watching all of this over a security monitor, Doctors Morgan and Nagan raised a champagne toast.

"Van Lunt is certainly earning your anti-aging drug, Jerry."

"And you were right, all that research we pilfered was the perfect recruiting tool. I can hardly wait to meet our new member, Arthur."