Schiller ate very quickly, and he always managed to make even the most disorganized assortment of food look aesthetically arranged, as though some part of his brain had been specifically dedicated to figuring out which dish on a crowded table should be eaten first, which next, and how to do it both quickly and deliciously.
More remarkably, eating never kept him from talking. Whenever he opened his mouth, there was never any food in it. Stark had always suspected he had developed this skill through giving people psychotherapy during meals, but he had no proof.
Stark took two bites of his burger, finding himself with little appetite. Somewhat listlessly, he asked, "What kind of business are you talking about?"
"Oh, it's like this. Kamar-Taj..."
Schiller briefly explained Kamar-Taj's situation. The more Stark listened, the stranger it sounded. "So Strange wants to help those villages make money, but the magical herbs he came up with aren't cutting it, so he came begging to me?"
"More or less." Schiller nodded.
Stark burst out laughing, then choked on it. After gulping down several mouthfuls of water, he still said in a delighted tone, "Hahahahahaha! I knew his magic was unreliable! If he'd come to me earlier and asked me to put up a satellite so he could connect to the internet, would he have needed to make things this complicated?"
Stark's mood had visibly improved. His expression could practically be called radiant. After all, he and Strange had been at odds for far more than a day or two. The two of them were like oil and water; if they met and didn't argue, they felt uncomfortable.
When it came to scientific and magical research, they had collaborated to some extent, but they were more often competitors. Science envied magic's convenience, while magic