"First of all, I want to thank you for saving me back in Gotham."
Tony Stark spoke sincerely.
"If it hadn't been for you, that guy and I might already be dead."
"Hey, that was nothing,"
Lucas waved his hand casually.
"You wouldn't have stood by and watched either. Besides, Floyd was someone you saved too, wasn't he?"
Tony nodded and laughed heartily.
"That's true. All of it was just doing what needed to be done."
"That guy included—haha!"
At that moment, any lingering tension Tony had toward Lucas completely disappeared.
The more he looked at this man, the more agreeable he seemed.
As he spoke, Tony reached into the bag he was carrying and took out a box.
"Here—this is a limited-edition Macallan whisky I brought specially for you."
"My dad collected it years ago. I normally wouldn't even dare touch it," Tony said with a grin.
"But for Gotham's victory, it deserves to be opened. Let's drink to the win!"
Lucas hadn't heard much about Macallan—but limited edition was the key phrase.
And judging by the luxurious packaging, he instantly knew how valuable it was.
The next second—before Tony could even open the box—his hands were suddenly empty.
"Hey, it's broad daylight. Why are you drinking?"
Lucas stood up holding the box and, under Tony's stunned gaze, placed it neatly into the liquor cabinet.
"Besides, the kids are still here."
Tony's sharp eyes immediately noticed that at least five bottles in the cabinet were worth no less than the Macallan he had brought.
"We'll drink it next time," Lucas continued as he walked back.
"You're still injured. You should have something nutritious instead."
He had just sat down when the perceptive Elaine brought over two freshly squeezed glasses of orange juice.
"Here—100% fresh juice. It'll help you recover faster."
Lucas raised his glass toward Tony.
"Well… you've got a point," Tony shrugged, clinked glasses, and drank it down.
Even though his whisky had been confiscated without warning, Tony was in an excellent mood—
the best he'd felt in months.
"After all," Lucas said calmly as he set his glass down,
"you've been drinking a lot of bitter stuff lately, haven't you?"
"Hm?"
Tony looked at him suspiciously.
"Are you spying on me?"
Lucas shook his head.
"Your lip color is off. Your tongue coating is thick and pale. There's a faint green discoloration near your gums."
"And don't forget—I'm not an ordinary person. I can feel that something is seriously wrong with your body."
Before Tony could react, a controlled surge of energy removed his jacket and undid the buttons of his shirt.
When Tony came back to his senses, dark, vein-like patterns were clearly visible spreading from the Arc Reactor in his chest.
From a distance, it looked like an eerie black flower blooming across his torso.
Tony's expression darkened, then finally turned into a long sigh.
"Palladium poisoning. Excessive accumulation."
"I'm not highly educated," Lucas said, raising an eyebrow,
"but I know the human body can normally metabolize toxins—unless you've absorbed far too much."
Tony nodded.
"Under normal reactor use, it's fine. But once I wear the armor—especially during overload—the toxin levels spike."
"After the battle in Gotham, JARVIS told me that if I used the armor again… I should start thinking about my will."
Lucas tapped the table lightly.
"With your intelligence, you must've tried everything."
"Everything," Tony replied.
"Every known element. None of them can replace palladium."
Lucas already knew the answer—and how Tony would eventually overcome it.
After a brief pause, he stood up and placed a hand on Tony's shoulder.
"Don't move."
Tony immediately relaxed.
A warm sensation flowed into his body.
Under Lucas's precise control, his energy entered Tony's bloodstream and organs, compressing the toxins and guiding them through his circulation.
"Hold the cup. Put your finger in it," Lucas instructed.
Tony obeyed without hesitation.
Hiss—
Silently, a small cut opened on Tony's fingertip.
Drops of dark, green-tinged blood dripped into the cup.
A pungent, unpleasant odor immediately spread through the room.
Visibly, the dark veins on Tony's chest began to fade.
Two minutes later, the bleeding stopped.
Lucas withdrew his hand and sat back down.
"I've mostly cleared the palladium from your body," he said seriously.
"But don't celebrate yet."
"What if one day I can't help you?"
"You can't stake your life on someone else. You need to solve this problem yourself."
Tony nodded.
"I know. You probably don't specialize deeply in chemistry or physics," he said bitterly,
"but I've tested everything. Countless times."
"There's no substitute. No hope. That feeling—of hitting a dead end—you don't understand it."
As he spoke, Tony's arms wrapped around himself, his body trembling.
"I spent day and night in the lab. I didn't miss a single possibility."
"It felt like God was mocking me."
Lucas was surprised.
This was the first time he'd seen Tony so emotionally exposed.
After a moment of hesitation, he said carefully:
"Is it possible… that someone already found the answer—
but the technology of your era simply can't detect it yet?"
Lucas didn't spell it out, but the hint was obvious.
Tony froze.
His eyes lost focus, as if memories were replaying in his mind.
Lucas didn't interrupt.
Ding-dong—
The doorbell rang, snapping Tony out of his trance.
"I remember now," Tony suddenly said.
"I need to go. Lucas—thank you!"
He rushed toward the door, nearly colliding with Carrie, who was about to open it.
"Sorry, little princess! Next time I'll bring you an amazing gift—bye!"
He flung the door open and sprinted out.
Duang!
The next second, Tony's vision went black as he slammed into something very elastic.
Staggering back and nearly falling, he was caught by a strong hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, buddy. You okay?"
A deep, steady male voice sounded.
Tony looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered, handsome man with a warm smile.
"S-sorry, I—"
Before finishing his sentence, Tony bolted toward his sports car, jumped in, started the engine, and sped away.
Leaving the man at the doorway, utterly confused.
Lucas glanced over and smiled.
"Oh—Clark, is that you?"