The Genius Who Stacks Buffs

Hell's Kitchen. A window suddenly flew open, a gust of cold wind surged in, and a silver-white suit of armor shot inside, circling the room once before landing with a jet blast.

With a whir, the Mark II's faceplate retracted. Stark stood at the table, scanning the room, and said with a hint of disdain, "Your place really is a dump."

Schiller watched his coffee, already chilled by the cold draft, and rolled his eyes.

From a character standpoint, Stark had turned over a new leaf after being kidnapped, transforming from an insufferable playboy into a superhero.

But from Schiller's perspective, he'd just gone from a very insufferable playboy to a moderately insufferable one.

Unlike Bruce, who also played the playboy, Bruce might be faux leather, but Stark was the real deal.

Through his interactions with Stark, Schiller had already figured out three topics that would make him explode on the spot: money, his manhood, and how he measured up to his father.

Schiller took a sip of coffee and said slowly, "I know my consultation fee is steep, but no worries, you can keep complaining. As long as I haven't started the session, it's free."

"Also, you know that look of disgust you just made wiping dust off my table with your hand? That's gayer than the cherry on top of a cream cake."

"I admit the environment here isn't great—I'm not a billionaire like you. But come to think of it, Mr. Howard probably started from scratch in a dump like this. That's a hardship you probably can't grasp, which is why you had Miss Pepper worrying so long after you got kidnapped..."

After Schiller stacked those three buffs, Stark exploded on the spot.

The silver Mark II let out a bang, clearly Stark had just punched something inside.

Oh, Schiller remembered, there were two more things that would set Stark off: questioning his intelligence and calling Stark Industries' products garbage.

"Poor Mark II, and poor Jarvis. If I may be blunt, is the quality of Stark Industries' products always this..."

And of course, one last thing: expressing sympathy for him.

"...But hey, it's still way better than those robot rice cookers on the market. That's a qualitative leap."

Stark shot back out the same window he'd come in through. Clearly, if he stayed any longer, the Mark II might actually explode in Hell's Kitchen.

Schiller let out a refreshing sigh. The gloom from Gotham and Batman had been swept clean.

But soon enough, Stark flew back in, grumbling, "I called you, you didn't pick up, so I had to fly to this dump."

"Last time, you broke my Jarvis. When I tried to upgrade him today, I found he was completely wrecked—straight-up crashed. You have to fix him."

Schiller was about to say something, but Stark cut him off: "Don't even think about getting a single cent from me. You broke him, and it's delayed my new armor's development. You have to fix him, or I'll have Pepper fire you."

Schiller thought it over. True, the Mark V wasn't out yet, and Jarvis might genuinely be nonfunctional. Even if Stark didn't rely on Jarvis for R&D, he needed him for care—Stark couldn't manage daily life, especially in the lab.

Schiller knew Stark was still fuming. He was in a good mood now, so a free consultation wasn't out of the question.

So Schiller put his hands on his hips and said, "Fine, this one's on the house. Let's go."

Stark snapped his fingers, and another suit of armor flew in. Schiller stared at him, then pointed at the armor and said, "You don't expect me to ride in that, do you?"

"What else? How were you planning to get there?"

A few minutes later, Stark and Schiller were standing under a beat-up bus stop sign in Hell's Kitchen. Stark said, "I can't believe my era-defining suit's debut is on a smoke-belching old bus..."

Right on cue, the smoke-belching old bus pulled up. Schiller greeted the driver, and Stark awkwardly made the Mark II climb aboard. Schiller said, "You could've just lifted the whole bus and flown it over."

"Then why the hell didn't you just fly over in the armor? What's the damn difference?!" Stark asked.

Schiller shrugged and said, "Because the sight of Iron Man carrying a Hell's Kitchen bus through the sky would be beautiful."

Back at Stark's lab, Stark stood in front of a bank of panels and said, "I don't know what you did, but Jarvis crashed. Or not crashed—his hardware's fine, but he refuses to work."

"I was planning a major upgrade, but I don't want this to happen again. If he crashes every time someone asks him a few questions, he's useless for combat. That's not what I want."

When it came to his expertise, Stark was straightforward. He said, "I want Jarvis to become a true electronic lifeform. He can be an all-purpose butler, maybe the best in the world."

"But it seems he got stuck on your emotional logic problems. I gave him an emotional thinking framework..."

Schiller said, "This is actually a paradox, like the questions I asked him. Machine life always follows utility logic when making choices. But when utility logic conflicts with the owner's orders, your setting tells him to obey the owner. Yet you also gave him emotion. When emotion and logic clash, a machine can't deceive itself like a human."

"He can't rationalize like a person, can't accept that this is the best outcome, can't avoid or forget, so of course he locks up."

Stark waved a hand and said, "Can I just hide those conflicting logics? Like blacklist certain words or block certain emotional issues?"

"You want him to be a true electronic lifeform?"

"Of course. One with a soul, like us."

"Alright, to put it simply, if you want Jarvis to have real emotions, he can't avoid these problems. But if he can't figure them out, he's not a true 'lifeform.'"

"But the problem is, if he's stuck on these issues, he can't work, and I really need him."

"Do I have to wait for him to process it himself, like a woman having an emotional breakdown?"

"Do you let Miss Pepper process her breakdowns on her own?"

Seeing Schiller's look of utter disdain, Stark said, "Damn it, no, of course I comfort her. What were you thinking?"

Schiller said, "The choice is actually yours. Haven't you realized, Tony? Can I call you that?"

"Every contradiction in his thinking comes from you. You created him, set the rule that he must serve you, and his core protocols require him to obey your commands—"

"That's not how human thinking works."

"If I asked you the same question, how would you answer?"

"If your father were dying, and one decision from you could save him, but he strongly opposed it, what would you do?"

"If you followed his wishes and didn't save him, and he died, would you regret it?"

"If he died, do you think he would regret having you before his death?"

"If he died, do you think he would resent you?"

"If he resented you, would you blame yourself?"

"If you were given another chance, would you make a different choice?"

"If you defied his wishes and chose to save him, and he blamed you afterward, would you feel aggrieved?"

"If you defied his wishes and saved him, but he felt you disobeyed him and regretted having you, would you resent him?"

Mr. Stark fell silent.

For the first time, he didn't react dramatically when someone mentioned his father.

"He wouldn't do that," Stark said.

His voice was low, but firm. He said, "He wouldn't stop me from saving him. If I made a huge mistake by saving him, he'd choose to come back to life and do everything he could to fix it, even if it cost him his life again."

"Does Jarvis know you like that?"

Schiller stood up and patted Stark on the shoulder. "Does he know that you're actually a lot like your father?"

"Does knowing about you let him answer all these questions?"

"You can't expect an electronic life that runs on algorithms and logic to actively learn about your past, your personality. What you don't feed it is a blank slate to it."

"If you want him to have a real life, the first thing you need to do is give him what your father gave you."

"That includes your past, your personality, your way of thinking. You have to give him a part of your own life first—"

"Like the birth of a child."

Stark was silent for a long time. He rarely furrowed his brow so tightly, showing a somewhat troubled expression. He said, "I firmly believe there's no such thing as mind-reading in this world, and Jarvis definitely can't do it. So how is he supposed to understand me? This is almost an impossible technology. You don't understand artificial intelligence..."

"I don't understand 'artificial intelligence,' but you don't understand 'people.'"

Stark was left speechless again, but Schiller pressed on:

"Humanity exists through wisdom and is great through emotion. In all these years on Earth, only we have maintained prosperity. Of all the creatures God created, we remain the pinnacle. And you are challenging God. He never created a being that could rival humanity, but maybe you can, right?"

"This is a brand-new field, Tony. Your father never reached this point either. What you're tackling is a field where humanity has never made any real progress—creating a being beyond man."

The aura Stark carried when he left made Schiller feel like he might actually pull it off.

Still, he remembered to call Miss Pepper and said, "Good afternoon, Miss Pepper. It's like this—I administered some stimulation therapy to Mr. Stark... uh, yes, my own invention, but it's effective, though there are some side effects..."

"Yes, has he already gone to the lab? What? He didn't even remember your afternoon date? Well, that's quite rude of him..."

"That's right, it'll be like this for the next few days. It's a necessary part of adjusting dopamine secretion and adrenaline. Then his hormone levels will drop back to normal. Yes, it'll be fine soon..."

Schiller was completely making it up. His method was what people called a pep talk, and a fully stacked one at that. Stark would definitely dive into the lab with a full set of buffs called "sense of mission" and wouldn't leave for at least half a month.

He suddenly realized he had a unique talent for stacking buffs. Schiller stroked his chin. If only he could stack them on himself.

But his base stats were too weak. No matter how much data he piled on, he still couldn't get off the ground. Better to think about how to improve the fundamentals.