The conversation did not last long. When Tony left, he had an extra colorless magic crystal in his hand.
Inside it was the manufacturing process for magic crystals—primitive and low-level, but for Tony, it was already an extraordinary gain. And what he had paid was nothing more than a blank check, or rather, a promise.
A promise that after he returned, he would activate Stark Industries' satellite intelligence system and search for any information related to the talismans on behalf of the Black Hand Gang.
Tap, tap, tap.
Watching Tony's departing back, Finn, Ratso, Chow, and Hak Foo walked out from a small door to the side.
"Boss, is this guy still Iron Man? How come that aura of his feels even more like a villain's than ours?"
Just from a distant glance, Finn could clearly sense the cold, sharp aura around Tony.
He had practically written confidence and arrogance all over his face, looking down on everyone else from the heights of his IQ. That lofty sense of superiority was thick. Really, really thick!
"I don't trust him!"
The tall, burly Ratso shook his head, truly unable to offer any trust. This was too fantastical. One moment they had been fighting to the death, and the next they were friends?
On the high platform, Valmont did not answer their question. He turned sideways and spoke to the coiled-dragon stone carving on the wall behind him.
"Holy Lord, what do you think?"
The stone carving's eyes flickered faintly, glowing with two streaks of red light, and an evil, hoarse voice echoed in everyone's ears.
"No matter. I merely gave him some of the most basic magic-crystal manufacturing techniques. Compared to the help he can provide, this price is hardly worth mentioning!"
Aside from his identity as an ancient demon, Holy