"This is really strange."
Stark Tower.
On the top floor of the skyscraper built with billions of dollars, Tony Stark stood bare-chested before a floor-to-ceiling window three men tall, one that overlooked every building in New York. His gaze was distant.
His assistant, Pepper Potts, wore a professional skirt suit and held a thick stack of documents requiring Stark's signature. She quietly watched Stark, whose distant gaze made him seem as though he had entered some sage-like state.
Something was off. Very off.
Who was Tony Stark?
The richest man in all of New York, the smartest man in all of New York, the ruthless figure who owned the unimaginably wealthy Stark Group and whom even the American government had to show some respect.
At the same time, he was a playboy—a dissolute, unrestrained, sharp-tongued, arrogant, self-important bastard.
As for why Pepper sensed that something was wrong with Tony?
It was not only because of his melancholy gaze lately. Ever since becoming Tony's secretary, she had often been harassed by him.
But ever since Tony's last pool party on the top floor of the company, a week had passed.
Tony had not merely stopped harassing her—he had not slept with a woman in an entire week.
Pepper found this novel change unbelievable, but at the same time, she was deeply worried about Tony's condition.
After all, many geniuses liked to overthink, and people who overthought inevitably ended up grappling with philosophical questions like what the meaning of life was.
Then they thought more and more, became increasingly confused, and finally reached the absurd conclusion that life had no meaning, before killing themselves to embrace death.
Pepper was worried Tony would become like that. It was not just because they had spent quite some time together and developed a degree of