Almost every Transmigrator has an invisible cheat—the ability to view problems from a more macro perspective.
Stark's problem, in Mike's opinion, was not difficult to solve. What a Doctor couldn't do, supernatural powers had at least ten effective solutions for.
Additionally, Mike couldn't create the new element to replace palladium, but that didn't stop him from giving Stark hints and letting Stark tinker with it himself. In the original timeline, Fury used Howard's legacy to gain Stark's favor.
Without the stimulation of Ethan's Death, and without experiencing the near-Death plight of palladium poisoning, could Stark reach the same ideological height as in the original timeline?
The question is, whether he could or couldn't, did Mike care? Was it necessary to strictly follow the original timeline to "manufacture" Iron Man?
Hmm, hoping for a future where Stark sacrifices himself to snap his fingers?
Mike wasn't that kind of person.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you sure you don't have those kinds of preferences? Uh…it's okay, be brave and say it, I don't discriminate."
"Get lost!" Mike threw a cabbage stalk at Stark's head, "I just didn't expect a scoundrel like you to want to become a superhero. Sigh…what's wrong with this World."
"Fuck, what do you mean 'scoundrel like me'? That's called a personality flaw." Stark threw the cabbage stalk back.
He had used "personality flaw" to describe himself at the press conference.
Mike asked, "Do you usually watch the news?"
"If you mean the kind of news where politicians lie with their eyes open on TV, then—no! No interest! If you mean the kind of news that introduces beautiful models and actors, occasionally, I guess, after all, too many green teas deliver themselves to my door, so there aren't many situations where I need to pick them myself."
Mike was sure he saw triumph in Stark's eyes.
Billionaire.
Superhero.
And then bragging about this?
How could he be so childish!
Mike turned to Peter and said, "Look, this is your idol, so vulgar. So-called idols and goddesses usually have one thing in common: they can only be admired from afar, not played with, understand? Also, you've followed me all the way to the kitchen, what are you trying to do, chasing stars during work hours? Believe it or not, I'll deduct your salary?"
Stark: "Is it fun to bully a poor and awkward employee?"
Peter felt like spitting blood internally.
Poor and awkward…
That hit hard.
"It is fun."
Little Spider was already a submissive, how could he not be bullied a bit after coming to this World?
Stark: "Why did you mention the news?"
Mike: "The news reports on superheroes aren't very friendly, especially from official mouthpieces."
Stark stroked his chin: "Do you mean I should buy a few TV stations, or sue those lying media outlets until they go bankrupt?"
Mike: "Uh…"
He originally just wanted to remind him about the media's conduct, but felt he was worrying for nothing. Stark had lived under the media spotlight for so many years, would he care about media rumors?
He was used to it, right?
If he was really annoyed, he would just unleash his money power.
Later, Old Earl went to school to pick up Chloe, Skye returned from errands, Pepper got off work, plus Peter and Happy.
The group was truly lively.
Eating like this really made the food more appetizing.
Stark, for once, ate to his heart's content.
Hmm, he didn't listen to advice.
He still ate spicy food.
Heavy metal poisoning usually causes symptoms like dizziness, nausea, poor appetite, and fatigue, plus anxiety. Stark hadn't eaten well for a while.
In fact, palladium poisoning also damaged the kidneys and gonads, leading to frequent urination, incomplete urination, and decreased X-function… Ahem, of course, Stark would deny the above to his Death.
The meal was enjoyed by both hosts and guests.
The next day.
Most people, upon learning their illness has hope, would likely rush to consult a Doctor.
Stark, however, showed he was not most people.
He scheduled a date with a supermodel and went sunbathing.
Did he have a yacht in Long Beach?
No.
But that was no problem at all; he could just pick up a ready-made one immediately.
Stark tapped on his tablet, spending twenty million U.S. dollars to buy a relatively "simple" yacht.
By the time Mike arrived at the dock, the party had already begun. Stark wore tinted glasses, a Hawaiian shirt, and beach shorts.
His shirt was open, deliberately exposing the Arc Reactor—which the supermodels loved.
Yesterday he announced "I am Iron Man," and today the internet was full of photos of Stark and supermodels.
A group of people were wondering if Iron Man was reliable, while the media was in a festive mood. As expected of Stark, a creator of entertainment news; any photo could fill a page.
Stark took out a bottle of red wine, "1787 Château Lafite Rothschild, one of my personal treasures."
Mike checked, the auction price was two hundred twenty-five thousand, valuable but scarce, one less bottle after drinking it.
"If I don't drink it soon, who knows who it might benefit," Stark poured a glass and pushed it in front of Mike, "Try the taste of money."
Mike pretended to swirl the stemmed glass and took a sip, feigning expertise.
Then he frowned, "Sour! Astringent!"
"Haha." Stark laughed heartily, "Isn't it just sour and astringent? This thing is just for showing off, it doesn't taste that good."
Saying that, he poured the remaining "tens of thousands of U.S. dollars" from his glass into the sea.
"Babies, could you bring two glasses of juice?" Stark called out.
A moment later, a bikini-clad supermodel carrying juice walked across the deck as if it were a runway, with a seductive cat-like stride.
"Thank you." Stark raised an eyebrow.
"You're welcome." Then the supermodel puffed out her ample chest and said to Mike, "Would you like to add milk? My name is Angel."
No one would think that milk was legitimate, right?
Pfft!
Mike almost choked on his juice, pointing at Stark: "Are you mistaken? He's the rich one…"
Angel smiled: "Tony belongs to Nikita tonight."
Nikita was the A-cup supermodel Stark had initially flirted with.
After Angel left, Stark complained resentfully: "I'm not bringing you along when I pick up girls anymore, it's too demoralizing."
Mike: "Heh heh, what can I do about being naturally beautiful?"
Stark: "When it comes to shamelessness, I salute you! Oh, right, I've decided to have the surgery."
As he spoke, soul energy and Fate energy emanated from Stark's body.
System notification: [Stark's Commission: Remove the Shrapnel]
[Commission: 1,000,000 U.S. dollars (after deducting fees, the system takes a 90% cut)]
[Mission description: Help Stark remove the small shrapnel moving towards his heart.]
Huh, one million?
The fee increased a tiny bit, yet for Stark, it was still pocket change. Even if the fee was one hundred million, could Stark not afford it?
He couldn't understand the system's fee standard. Was it simply not wanting the workers to get rich?
Mike began to worry about the one billion U.S. dollars in his account, feeling it couldn't escape the system's dark hand.
"So fast? Have you written your will yet? If not, do you want to consider adding me?"
"Damn it! If I add you, wouldn't I die even faster? Also, I'm trying to brew a tragic emotion here, you're making it very difficult for me to express it."
After thinking for a moment, Mike said, "Hmm, sorry, continue. I was just thinking, if you died, what would the media say about you? The shortest-lived superhero in history? Is that tragic enough?"
Stark got angry and splashed juice at Mike's face.
Mike leaped forward, plunged into the deep blue sea, and shot out a good distance, like a swift swordfish.