Professor Charles, who was very skilled at conversation, firmly controlled the rhythm of the discussion. He had been listening all along as Stark recounted the strange things that had happened to him.
But as he listened, he realized something was wrong.
Stark was young, wealthy, suave, brilliant, and had so much hair. He truly made others envious. In that regard alone, he was better off than Professor Charles, who had gone bald at thirty and had remained bald for sixty years.
Now Stark had parents above him, a wife beside him, and a daughter below him. No matter how one looked at it, that family structure had nothing to do with tragedy.
No disasters, no illnesses, and he was in excellent health. He was a little worse than Captain America, but still stronger than the average person. Stark looked like a useless weakling once he took off his armor, but his fighting skills were actually quite good, and he had put a great deal of effort into them. In another timeline, he had once defeated Daredevil barehanded without wearing his armor.
No terminal illness, no unspeakable disease. Compared to the old professor, who had been paralyzed for sixty years, what could Stark possibly be dissatisfied with?
With such excellent conditions, he was still dissatisfied? Then ninety-nine percent of America, of the entire world, ought to be depressed.
The old professor frowned slightly. "Tony, from what I've observed, you're perfectly normal. Your mental state isn't nearly as bad as you've described. If your mindset counts as a psychological disorder, then once you walk out that door, the servants in the courtyard who have spent years caring for an old cripple like me would all count as lunatics too. Heh heh..."
He made a couple of self-deprecating jokes, but Stark remained anxious.