Didn't S.H.I.E.L.D. covet the Iron Man Suit?" Mike asked Coulson.
"Not that I know of," Coulson shook his head.
"I don't believe it. That's not Black Egg's style," Mike pouted.
"Black Egg… that's quite an image. But I wouldn't recommend saying that in front of Nick. I know you're very direct, but Nick is actually petty and won't show it to your face. Instead, he'll write it down in his little notebook and get back at you later…" Coulson glanced at Mike's phone screen and almost jumped out of his skin.
"You're recording!"
"That's right," Mike smiled warmly. "If I send that last bit to Black Egg, what do you think will happen?"
"I don't want to know. Brother Mike, if you ever need anything, just tell your little brother. Don't be polite; politeness is the greatest insult to me," Coulson said solemnly. "Can you delete the recording?"
"Yes, but not now. We'll see how you perform in the future!" Mike put away his phone.
Coulson thought to himself, "Devil, definitely a devil."
It was also his own fault for getting carried away.
He wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel.
The thought of mutual destruction surfaced again, even stronger than before.
Coulson gave up, "Nick never intended to get the Iron Man Suit; he was after Tony, who made the suit."
A bunch of low-level players only focused on the egg, but a high-level player like Nick focused on the chicken that laid the egg.
Good heavens!
The modified car set off again, finally entering the Underground Room of a super large shopping mall called "Good and Plenty."
In the elevator, Coulson opened a hidden panel and entered the fifth floor of the parking lot, which only had four floors.
Fury turned around and saw Coulson entering from the elevator, as well as Mike, who was looking around like a bumpkin.
"As expected of S.H.I.E.L.D., they're so extravagant. You don't feel bad spending taxpayers' money, do you?" Mike's first words were a verbal jab at Nick Fury.
But who was Fury? This level of verbal attack was just like a tickle.
When it came to cunning and thick skin, he had never lost, alright.
Hearing that the special "assistant" had arrived, Stark's medical team collectively came out to observe.
The chief surgeon was Dr. Wu from the Celestial Empire, a cardiac surgery expert and a friend of Stark.
His assistant was Donald, a graduate of Harvard Medical School. Dr. Zhao Hailun and Leo Fitz from S.H.I.E.L.D. provided technical support for the surgical instruments, and Simmons was also there, responsible for monitoring Stark's vital signs during the operation.
As for the other assistants, anesthesiologists, scrub Nurses, and circulating Nurses, all were top personnel from the Mayo Clinic.
"Huh, why isn't Sherlock here? Couldn't afford him or couldn't get him?" Mike looked around curiously.
He didn't see him.
"Who is Sherlock? What kind of Doctor is he?" Fury's expression changed.
If there was a top Doctor who hadn't been invited, then that was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mistake.
"I just said it casually, it's not important…"
"No, this is very important."
"Uh, Dr. Stephen Strange."
As soon as Mike said the name, many medical professionals present showed a look of realization, apparently knowing this person.
"So Dr. Stephen Strange's nickname is 'Sherlock'."
"This person is super conceited and arrogant."
"He has the capital to be conceited; he's hailed as God's gift to the surgical field."
"Wait, Dr. Stephen Strange specializes in neurosurgery, right?"
"…"
At this point, the others looked at Mike strangely—he was clearly an amateur, so how did he become an "important assistant"? No one would joke about Stark's surgery, would they?
Dr. Wu, the chief surgeon, knew Mike's role beforehand, and he had no objections, so the others couldn't question it either.
The medical field was also a hierarchical and relatively closed circle.
Having made a common sense mistake, Mike chuckled awkwardly and retreated to the side. This incident taught him to listen more and speak less about things he didn't understand.
During the surgery, the Arc Reactor needed to be removed. After the reactor was removed, the shrapnel would slowly flow towards the heart. The Doctor had to remove it before Stark was killed by the shrapnel.
The estimated surgery time was three and a half hours. If it exceeded this time, the surgery had to be terminated, otherwise Stark's life would be in danger.
What Mike had to do was to use his mental power to envelop the shrapnel, preventing it from flowing towards the heart.
Therefore, sustained and stable control was very important.
From the moment they arrived at the Underground Room, the surgical team conducted several simulations, each lasting several hours.
The shrapnel used in the simulation was identical to the shrapnel in Stark's blood vessels, including its shape, weight, and angle of placement.
"I didn't expect that training could actually enhance the precision of mental power control. This is a pleasant surprise."
As for Mike directly using his mental power to remove the shrapnel… Fury considered it, but ultimately chose a multi-party collaboration plan, which was more stable.
Five days later, the surgery proceeded as scheduled.
The surgery took less than three hours, going more smoothly than expected.
"Excellent work, everyone," Dr. Wu shook hands with every person involved in the surgery.
A strong old-cadre vibe.
However, as a Doctor, he was indeed very impressive.
"Wu Jiaqi didn't come, what a pity…" Mike muttered softly, full of regret.
"Wu Jiaqi, who is that?" The sharp-eared Fury secretly noted down the name.
A few days later.
In the intensive care unit.
Stark could already speak, though his face was pale. The Doctor said the prognosis was good and he would soon be like a normal person.
Two streams of energy entered Mike's body, combining with the previously collected energy to form a Destiny Fruit.
"Last time it was Senbonzakura, what will it be this time?" It had been a while since the last Destiny Fruit synthesis, and Mike was very much looking forward to it.
This was a hospital room.
Forget it.
He should just focus on eating dog food—the dog food came from Stark and Pepper. The two were holding hands, gazing at each other with affection.
"I'm sorry I made you worry."
"It's good that you're okay, that's more important than anything."
After a while of being lovey-dovey, Stark turned to Mike, "There's something I need to tell you. Your name is in my will, and I've left you a lot of small change. Aren't you regretting saving my life? Aren't you unhappy? Say it out loud and make me happy."
"I'm considering whether to kill you, you bastard, right now, immediately, instantly."
"Haha!" Stark reached out to Mike.
"A handshake?"
"Yes."
"Too deliberate, it feels a bit disgusting."
"Bear with it, after all, I'm a rich man, and Iron Man. Give me some face."
"Alright."
Their hands clasped together.
"Thank you," Stark said solemnly. "You saved my life again."
"Don't say that. Even without me, you wouldn't have died," Mike said truthfully. At least he wouldn't have died at the hands of the Ten Rings Gang, nor from palladium poisoning.
Hopefully, he wouldn't die from snapping his fingers in the future either.
Pepper hugged Mike and whispered, "Mike, you've saved me twice too. Thank you."
"Director Fury…" Stark said.
"Is it my turn? So I've been busy running around, and I'm only third in line." Fury stepped forward.
"I mean, you're blocking the door. The Nurse for the dressing change can't come in."
Fury turned his head and glared at the young and beautiful Nurse who had come in to change the dressing, scaring her pale.
His face grew even darker.
Fortunately, once it's dark to a certain extent, there's no difference between dark and darker.