Emergency Rescue

"I'm going to take a look around your collection room."

After saying that, Chen Xiao turned and headed upstairs. He had barely stepped onto the first stair when a sudden thud came from behind him—not the sound of something being knocked over, but of a person hitting the floor. It was dull and heavy, like a sack of cement slamming down.

Then Ethan's urgent voice exploded. "Tony! Chen Xiao!"

Chen Xiao took two long strides back down the stairs and turned around.

Tony was sprawled on the floor, his head against a table leg, his eyes closed. The holographic display was still lit, the blueprint for that staff floating in midair, its cursor blinking as if waiting for someone to return and continue working. Ethan crouched beside him, one hand pressed to Tony's neck, his face white as paper.

"What happened?"

"Just now, a few steps after you turned away, I heard a chair overturn. When I came over, he was already like this."

Chen Xiao crouched, both hands hovering over Tony's chest. White light seeped from his palms, soft and warm, a misty glow penetrating Tony's body. Observation Haki spread with it, tracing the black palladium deposits through his blood vessels—they had already reached the major vessels in his neck and were nearing his brain, like a tightening net. Dense black particles clung to the vessel walls, some already beginning to seep into the surrounding tissue.

He swept his gaze around quickly, waved a hand, and pulled the medical robot over. Then he turned and inserted a collection needle into Tony's neck.

"JARVIS, blood analysis."

"Mr. Tony Stark's current palladium concentration is eighty-three percent, an increase of two percentage points from six hours ago. His blood pressure is low, and his blood oxygen saturation is declining."

Chen Xiao gritted his teeth, and the white glow brightened. What he could do was far more than merely "suppress" it—he could use electrical currents to stimulate cell division and metabolism, forcibly driving out the toxins. But the price was accelerated cellular aging and a shortened lifespan. One use would cost months. Too many uses would cost years. He looked at the black streaks on Tony's neck. They were already nearing his temples.

There was no time to worry about that.

Electricity surged from his palms. No longer soft white light, but fine, dense blue-white arcs, like countless needles piercing Tony's skin at once.

Tony's body suddenly went taut, his eyes snapping wide open like a bow pulled fully taut. A muffled groan squeezed out of his throat, his teeth grinding audibly as veins bulged at his temples. The black vascular patterns began throbbing violently under the stimulation of the arcs, as though something inside was struggling, swelling, trying to force its way out. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his cheeks, soaking a wide patch around the collar of his T-shirt.

Ethan stepped forward, reaching out to stop him. Chen Xiao looked up at him.

Just one look. Ethan's hand froze in midair, nailed in place by that gaze. He did not move.

The electric arcs lasted around twenty seconds. Chen Xiao's arm began to shake, his fingertips going numb as his stamina drained rapidly. This was an enormous burden for him. Using this ability on himself carried no strain at all, but Tony was only flesh and blood. He had to control the power carefully enough to stimulate cellular regeneration while keeping it from actually cooking Tony alive.

Then the black patterns began to recede.

The dark particles were forced along the bloodstream toward the metabolic pathways, and the black veins beneath his skin faded one by one: from his temples to his cheeks, from his cheeks to his jaw, from his jaw to his neck. Like a receding tide, like ink being slowly drawn out of paper.

Tony gasped for breath, his chest rising and falling as if he had run a marathon. Chen Xiao withdrew his hands. Sweat from his forehead fell straight to the floor, his fingertips still trembling faintly, his entire arm aching.

Tony braced himself against the floor and slowly sat up. He touched his neck, then lowered his gaze and pulled up the hem of his T-shirt—the web-like black patterns along his waist had faded by more than half. He turned his hands over and over, staring at them, his eyes lighting up with a spark of having survived disaster, a look Chen Xiao had not seen on him in days.

"Did you... cure me?"

Chen Xiao said nothing.

Tony stared at his hands for a few more seconds, and the corner of his mouth slowly spread into a grin.

"I knew it. You wizard, you're useful after all." He pushed himself up against the table, swayed once, then grabbed the workbench and took a deep breath, as if he had never breathed so freely in his life. "Ethan, did you see that? I thought I had less than a week—"

"Tony." Chen Xiao interrupted him. His voice was not loud, but it was heavy.

Tony turned to look at him.

"I didn't cure you. I only temporarily cleared the toxins from your blood vessels," Chen Xiao said. "Your reactor is still producing new palladium. In one month—thirty-five days at most—the black patterns will return. And next time, they'll come back faster and hit harder."

Tony's smile froze on his face, as if someone had pressed pause.

"Because I used your cells' metabolic capacity. I forced them to divide faster and detoxify faster. Every time your cells accelerate, their telomeres get shorter. Every detoxification costs you several months of aging."

"Telomeres?"

"A cell's lifespan counter. Once it runs out, the cell stops dividing." Chen Xiao stood and brushed the dust from his pants. "And then you're done."

The laboratory was so quiet that the faint hum of the Arc Reactor could be heard. Buzz, buzz, buzz—like some kind of warning. Tony leaned against the edge of the table with his head lowered, silent for a long time. At last, he tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was an ugly smile.

"So I'm still on a temporary contract, not full-time."

Chen Xiao did not respond.

Just then, the phone in Tony's pocket vibrated. He took it out and glanced at it—an email. His expression changed.

"JARVIS?"

"Sir," JARVIS's voice descended from the ceiling, as steady as though nothing had happened, "this is a scheduled email you set twenty-three days ago. The trigger conditions were: vital signs remaining below the threshold without human intervention, or Mr. Tony Stark being declared—. Before you regained consciousness, I carried out the delivery according to protocol."

Tony's face went completely white, white as if he had been dead for three days.

"Who did you send it to?"

"The recipients include Ms. Pepper Potts, Colonel James Rhodes, Mr. Ethan, and Mr. Chen Xiao."

"Recall it."

"Unable to recall, sir. All emails have already been delivered."

Tony threw his phone onto the table, braced both hands against its edge, and lowered his head. His feet twisted against the floor as if he were searching for something there, not making a sound.

Chen Xiao had already taken out his own phone.

Sure enough, there was a new email on the screen. Sender: Tony Stark. Subject: Last Words.

He opened it.

It was a video.

In the video, Tony wore that wrinkled black T-shirt, his hair as messy as a bird's nest, his beard untrimmed, deep shadows beneath his eyes. The background was a corner of the laboratory. An empty liquor bottle lay crookedly in view, with a crumpled wad of used tissues beside it.

His voice was hoarse, carrying that self-destructive, nothing-matters-anymore tone.

"Chen Xiao. If you're watching this, then I fucking died after all."

Video Tony faced the camera and tugged at the corner of his mouth, as if he wanted to smile but could not. The expression was strange and painful to look at.

"Don't be sad. I'm not even sad myself."

He paused, fished a bottle of liquor into frame, and took a swig. His throat bobbed, and when he pulled the bottle away, a trail of alcohol dripped from its mouth onto his T-shirt.

"You saved my life. In the desert—not with that portal. You did. You put a burger and Coke in the car, then pretended nothing happened. You thought I didn't notice? I did. I just didn't say anything."

Chen Xiao held the phone without moving. His fingers tightened slightly.

"I don't know how to repay that favor. You don't lack money, talent, or friends. I thought about it for a long time."

Tony set down the bottle, his tone suddenly turning serious.

"When you went through that portal to go back and work, you looked like you were going home. Then I started wondering, do you have a home here?"

Video Tony tilted his head, as if waiting for Chen Xiao's answer, though he knew none would come.

"So I transferred one-third of everything in my name, except this house, into your name. That includes trust funds, Stark Industries shares, and intellectual property royalties from several projects. I did the math. It's enough for you to eat and live for several lifetimes without working."

He paused, tugging at the corner of his mouth again.

"Don't refuse. It's not for you. It's to buy back that napkin signature of mine. I'm afraid you won't be able to trade it back for a house when the time comes, then you'll make a scene in front of my grave, and I'll have to crawl out of the dirt to sign it again. What a hassle."

The video ended.

The screen went black.

Chen Xiao set his phone down face-first on the workbench. He did not mock Tony, nor did he look at him. He knew Tony must be dying of embarrassment right now, but when Tony recorded that video, he had truly believed he was going to die.

Chen Xiao took a deep breath. He inhaled slowly and exhaled just as slowly.

"Tony."

Tony did not look up.

"Your new secretary, Natalie." Chen Xiao sniffed, his voice low and thick with emotion. "Where is she?"

Tony froze for a moment, then looked up at him.

Chen Xiao's expression had changed, as if he no longer cared about holding anything back. That air of indifference was gone. When Tony did not respond, he raised his voice.

"JARVIS. Get Natalie Rushman here now."

JARVIS fell silent for a second before answering.

"An emergency communication has been sent. Ms. Rushman has confirmed receipt. She will arrive shortly."

"Immediately, no matter where she is! Tell her this is an emergency involving Tony Stark."

Chen Xiao turned to look at Tony.

Tony leaned against the workbench with his arms folded. His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it. He looked at Chen Xiao, reassessing him.

"You said you could only save me for a few days at most." Chen Xiao walked to the holographic display and pulled up the blueprint of that staff. He watched it slowly rotate in the blue light, its cursor still blinking over the cross-section of the telescoping mechanism. "Then I'll help you find the person who can save you for the rest of your life."

Tony stared at the back of his head for two seconds, his voice softening. "Didn't you say you wouldn't spoil things?"

Chen Xiao did not turn around. His voice came out muffled, as if squeezed from his throat. "You left me enough money to eat for several lifetimes. I should show some appreciation."

Tony froze.

Then he laughed.