The Ill-Fated City

Fear, confusion, and bewilderment mixed together, Tony's expression was quite grim.

This book even predicted his palladium poisoning. Combined with recent events, all evidence indicated that the book's contents were not fabricated but were genuine prophecies.

If he was destined to die from palladium poisoning, was there a way to change that Destiny?

As it turned out, there was. As Tony continued reading, he indeed found a corresponding countermeasure.

"Howard Stark's death is a fated demise, but Tony Stark's is not. If he can find Yahweh's messenger, then he might find salvation."

Yahweh's messenger?

Tony's head began to ache. Setting aside whether Yahweh even existed, where would he find his messenger?

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Tony patiently continued reading.

"The power of the Old Ones will awaken. The Lord of R'lyeh will no longer be content with slumber. His gaze will turn towards the land, and perhaps tiny mortals will receive His glory.

Perhaps His brother will not stand idly by. When the two of them clash, can the city of New York survive?"

The book stopped abruptly here, marking the end of this volume.

The content wasn't extensive, but every word sent shivers down Tony's spine.

This was no longer a vague, grand prophecy. It explicitly stated that two terrifying deities would awaken, and New York might be destroyed in their conflict.

Furthermore, it mentioned his own death. If he couldn't find Yahweh's messenger, he might lose his life.

Whether for his own sake or for the safety of the city, Tony had to find Yahweh's messenger as soon as possible. Although the book didn't mention it, he believed the messenger could resolve the conflict between the two deities, right?

Or perhaps, the next volume, The Gh'gth Revelations, could solve this problem?

With that thought, Tony took out the Magic Conch, intending to seek help from this magical item that seemed capable of solving all his problems.

After all, just before, The Gh'gth Revelations had indeed come into his possession without him doing anything, just as the Magic Conch had said.

"Magic Conch, please tell me, how can I resolve the conflict between these two ancient deities, or how can I protect New York?"

After pulling the string, the Magic Conch quickly responded as usual, but...

"No hope, just wait to die, goodbye!"

Tony froze. He never expected the Magic Conch to give such a direct and cold reply.

Magic Conch, you've changed. You weren't like this before.

Tony calmed his emotions and prepared to ask his second question.

"Then, Magic Conch, please tell me where the second volume, The Gh'gth Revelations, is? How can I obtain it?"

After speaking, Tony pulled the string again. This time, the Magic Conch didn't tell him to give up.

"Do nothing."

Tony felt his blood pressure rising, veins subtly bulging. This was another answer like the last one: if he did nothing, the book would naturally come to him.

But there was no time now. Who knew when those two deities would start fighting?

Besides, waiting wasn't his style. Tony was accustomed to taking the initiative and finding solutions.

"Then how do I find Yahweh's messenger?"

After some thought, Tony pulled the Magic Conch's string for the third time, hoping for a more reliable answer this time.

"Go be a dog for Natalie."

"What?"

Tony could hardly believe his ears. He suspected he had misheard.

But the familiar, slightly mocking voice of the Magic Conch echoed clearly in his ears, forcing him to confront this absurdly ridiculous answer: "Go be a dog for Natalie."

Tony's lips twitched. He looked at the Magic Conch in his hand, as if confirming whether this magical item was truly joking with him.

But the Magic Conch lay there quietly, without the slightest ripple, clearly answering his question seriously.

"You mean I should be her dog to find Yahweh's messenger with her help?"

Tony suppressed the dark lines forming on his forehead and pulled the string again.

"Yes."

This time, the Magic Conch's answer was brief and clear, without any hint of hesitation or jest. Tony had to face this seemingly absurd but direct guidance.

"Alright,"

Tony sighed. Although he was still extremely reluctant, he knew this wasn't the time to be stubborn. The city was in imminent danger. Thinking of those people's lives, Tony couldn't bear to let them all die just for his own dignity.

"Then what should I do? I can't actually go be her pet, can I?"

With that statement, Tony had already half-compromised.

However, his pride still prevented him from overcoming his psychological barrier and actually becoming Natalie's dog.

Tony gritted his teeth and pulled the string one more time, hoping the Magic Conch would leave him some dignity.

"If you're unwilling to be her dog, you could also try licking her feet."

"What?"

Let myself lick that secretary's feet?

What a joke!

He, Tony Stark, is a super genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and as the superhero Iron Man!

Even if Tony died from palladium poisoning, was killed by monsters, or died at the hands of terrorists, he would never lick her feet!

Tony's face instantly turned ashen, anger and shame intertwined, he almost crushed the Magic Conch in his hand.

"Magic Conch, you... are you deliberately humiliating me?" Tony's voice was low and hoarse as he tried to force the words out through gritted teeth, then he pulled the string.

"No, I'm helping you."

Utterly shameless!

Tony was so angry he laughed. The Magic Conch was grinding his pride into the dirt.

However, thinking of the New York citizens who would soon suffer, Tony hesitated. But perhaps there was another way?

"Magic Conch, is there any other way to resolve this incident?"

With that, Tony pulled the string yet again.

"No."

The Magic Conch's answer was concise and decisive, leaving Tony in a difficult position.

"Fine," Tony finally compromised, but his tone revealed an unyielding resilience.

"I will try to communicate with Natalie, but definitely not in that way. I will find a more dignified method to seek her help."

He put away the Magic Conch and went to the top floor, looking out the window.

The city lights still shone brilliantly, but beneath this tranquility lay an unknown crisis.

He really didn't know what the scene would be like when the crisis erupted.