Aren't you leaving? Don't you have anything to do?" Mike glanced at Stark, who was also sprawled on the sofa.
It was almost dinner time, so he had to get rid of the idle people.
"I'm busy," Stark said, showing his chat interface with a new supermodel, and even specifically showing the supermodel's photo.
Mike glanced at it: a skinny figure, deep facial features, thin lips, and a cold, glamorous aura.
The key was her A-cup.
Mike mumbled, "Not my type."
The new supermodel said she was too busy with work and hadn't enjoyed sunbathing in a long time.
Stark said that supermodels worked really hard, toiling day and night.
Mike scoffed, "'Toiling' day and 'night,' indeed. It's all because of playboys like you." Then he thought, he seemed to be one of "you guys" too.
Hmm, it was indeed time for a balance of work and rest.
The office workers cried themselves to sleep in the restroom.
Stark asked her where she worked.
The supermodel said Long Beach.
Stark said he happened to have a luxury double-deck yacht near Long Beach, perfect for sunbathing. He asked if she needed help applying sunscreen.
The supermodel said Stark was so thoughtful, a true gentleman.
Mike said, "Fake, pretentious chat, a plasticky smell, disgusting."
Stark sneered, "Jealousy, pure jealousy."
Mike: "Heh heh, get lost!"
Stark: "The yacht is so big, maybe I should invite a few more supermodels to sunbathe together. If I have to apply sunscreen, will I be too tired by myself?"
Mike: "How about I help? Helping others is my greatest virtue."
Stark rolled his eyes: "Shamelessness is, more like it. And… didn't you say she wasn't your type?"
Mike: "Being picky is bad for your health. And there are so many dishes in the World; you have to try the ones you haven't had to know if you like them. I have an excellent appetite, and since I was a child, I've had a dream of becoming a gourmet."
The innocent Peter nearby vaguely felt the conversation was a bit improper, but he had no proof.
Stark asked, "What are we eating tonight?"
Mike: "Does what we eat have anything to do with you?"
Stark reminded him: "Supermodel, sunbathing, sunscreen."
These three keywords made Mike abandon his integrity and immediately change his tune: "Hotpot."
"Old Earl!" Mike shouted to Old Earl at the cash register, "When you pass by the fresh supermarket later, buy more white radishes and potatoes. We'll have two extra people mooching off dinner tonight."
Mike included Happy as well.
Stark: "I'll call Pepper over too."
"Three," Mike looked at Peter, who was looking down, concealing the movement of his Adam's apple, and sighed, "Damn it… four!"
Mike wiped away non-existent cold sweat and breathed a sigh of relief: "Good thing I have a billion U.S. dollars in my bank account, or I'd be eaten into poverty."
Peter burst into tears.
The Shadow in the sunset was his tragic, battered youth.
Stark called Pepper, and after hanging up, his expression was puzzled.
"What's wrong, isn't she coming?" Mike asked.
"She's coming, but her tone was very cold. I don't know what Pepper is thinking… I don't understand, other women are simpler."
"Heh heh, as if you understand other women. Just touching mountains and exploring tunnels, you call that understanding women? What a joke!" Mike said, "It's very simple. Revealing Iron Man's identity can indeed raise the group's stock price, but did you discuss it with Pepper? Always springing surprises, who can handle that? Besides, is Pepper just your private assistant? Being a superhero might sound cool, but it's also super dangerous, especially with your identity revealed."
Stark awkwardly said, "So what should I do?"
"Apologize, in the freezing cold, naked, doing a triple aerial twist, landing in a Thomas flair, followed by a ten-meter super-long slide into a kneeling dogeza."
Stark glared: "Are you messing with me?!"
"Yes, isn't it obvious enough?" Mike picked his nose, "Your own woman, your own mistake, and then you ask me what to do?"
Mike got up.
"Where are you going?" Stark asked.
"To prepare the soup base. Do you think everyone is as idle as you are?"
After he said that, Peter and Old Earl both stared at Mike.
The person who always slouched around like Ge You when he had nothing to do had the nerve to say that!
Didn't he have any self-awareness?
Mike, as usual, prepared a Double-boiled hot pot, a hotpot with two separate sections, one with bone broth and the other with spicy red broth.
At first, Stark recoiled from the red broth, saying, "Can anything cooked in this stuff be eaten? I wouldn't touch it even if you killed me!"
Then, the "true fragrance" rule applied.
"You can't eat spicy food!" Mike told Stark, who was idle and watching.
"Why!" Stark protested.
Mike stared at Stark's chest.
Stark cautiously stepped back, crossing his arms defensively, "I don't have those kinds of hobbies."
"Get lost!"
Stark was just joking; he knew what Mike meant. The Arc Reactor relied on palladium to function, and he was already showing signs of palladium poisoning.
It wasn't very serious yet, but his immune system couldn't eliminate the palladium, and it was accumulating in his body little by little, which would eventually kill Stark.
Theoretically, Stark should quit alcohol, sex, and avoid stimulating foods, especially spicy ones. Imagining such a monastic life, Stark felt he might as well be shot. On this point, Mike actually agreed with Stark.
Besides, there wasn't no solution. Stark was currently working on two main approaches to solve the problem:
First, surgery to remove the deadly small shrapnel fragment that was moving towards his heart.
Second, finding an element that could replace palladium and was harmless to the body.
Regarding surgery, Stark had consulted the World's top medical experts, and their answers were largely similar: the risk was very high. Stark was also worried.
As for an element to replace palladium, he hadn't found one yet.
Stark's heart stirred: "Do you have a solution?"
"Yes."
"Really?!" Stark immediately became excited.
"Yes, really," Mike said calmly, "First, I can help you remove the shrapnel…"
Upon hearing Mike say this, Stark was immediately disappointed. He had consulted the World's top medical experts, and their answers were largely the same: the risk was very high. Could Mike possibly find an even more skilled Doctor?
Mike: "I know what you're thinking. In terms of medical science, I really don't have a better way, but don't forget, besides science, there are also supernatural powers in this World."
Mike gave an example, "For instance, Magneto. His ability is to control metal, and he can easily break down small shrapnel into smaller particles, which are then naturally expelled from the body, pain-free and risk-free. Of course, I'm just giving an example. Using Magneto's ability for treatment carries no risk, but the person himself is a risk. Do you dare to trust him? Also, your armor is a complete Iron shell. Have you devised a plan to deal with Magneto or similar abilities?"
"Uh…"
"You'd better think about it, or you'll be miserable if you encounter him." Mike thought of Wolverine. That guy would probably just get beaten up if he encountered Magneto.
With Stark's brain, he should be able to develop something like an "anti-magnetic field."
Mike suddenly threw a cleaver into the air.
Just as Stark thought the cleaver would smash onto the cutting board, it suddenly floated in the air, motionless.
"I can use my mental power to pull the shrapnel to a less dangerous position, and then it can be removed through surgery," Mike said. "Let me be clear, my mental power isn't strong enough or precise enough yet, so there's still a risk. However, you still have time to consider; there's no rush."