In prison, Justin Hammer pulled some strings to get Ivan Vanko out.
Justin Hammer rambled on at length. There was no telling whether Ivan Vanko understood him, but the two reached an agreement anyway.
At Tony's villa in New York, Tony was looking through information on Ivan Vanko and his father. Rimuru wondered whether he should remind Tony to work on a new reactor and move the plot along.
"Tony, the current reactor is clearly far from perfect. It doesn't supply enough power, and its flaws are obvious. It's killing you. Aren't you going to switch to another element?"
Tony looked up at Rimuru strangely. "I've already tried every element on Earth. None of them can replace palladium. At this point, I'd have to look beyond Earth, but current technology clearly can't support that."
"Have you considered creating a new element? One that's safer, cleaner, and more efficient?"
Tony looked at Rimuru as if he were crazy. "Do you even know what you're saying? I'm human, not God. Do you know what creating a new element would mean?"
Tony didn't seem to take it to heart. Perhaps, with the recovery potion keeping his life out of danger, he didn't feel the same urgency.
Rimuru was about to say more, but Rhodey walked in.
As soon as Rhodey entered, he began complaining about the pressure the military was putting on him and the consequences of Tony's earlier, over-the-top boasting. He spoke almost as fast as a freestyle rapper.
In Queens, New York, Justin Hammer showed Ivan Vanko around his factory.
Ivan Vanko started operating the equipment, and Justin Hammer warned him that he'd better not. Once they generated an encryption password, he could have access.
Instead, Ivan Vanko hacked straight in and complained that their software was terrible. Justin's true nature as a clown was already showing.
Ivan Vanko examined the armor Hammer Industries had made, only to yank its head straight off. He then asked what Justin wanted them to do.
"I want them to make me the Pentagon's partner for the next twenty-five years. I want to make Tony's armor look like an antique, then take a big dump in Tony's front yard."
Even Ivan Vanko laughed at that. He said it was no problem and promised to let Justin take a big dump.
That night, Tony still held the party at his villa. Fortunately, it wasn't as debauched as the original, but Pepper was still baffled and speechless. What on earth had gotten into Tony? She also knew about his poisoning. She had been a little worried at first, but with the potion Rimuru had given him, it wasn't much of a problem.
By the end of the party, Tony was dead drunk. He and Rhodey had a fight, and Rhodey still ended up taking the armor. Perhaps it was a compromise Tony had made with the military. Rimuru stood nearby, filming the whole time. This would all be embarrassing footage of Tony in the future, so he had to make a good record of it.
Pepper looked at Rimuru in speechless disbelief, unable to understand why he seemed so calm, as though he had known in advance. But he had no time to think about it, because she still had to clean up the mess Tony had left behind.
Morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the champagne glasses scattered around the villa's living room, falling lazily across the leather sofa amid empty bottles and tangled decorative streamers.
Tony Stark clutched his throbbing forehead and jerked upright on the sofa. His throat was as dry as if it were stuffed with gravel, and the aches of a hangover swept through every limb. He instinctively reached for his chest. The steady warmth of the Arc Reactor came through his shirt, slightly soothing his disordered state.
JARVIS's voice sounded at just the right moment. "Sir, based on the amount you drank last night, I recommend you consume 1.5 liters of electrolyte water today."
"Damn it," Tony muttered. He rubbed his brow, pushed himself up, and surveyed the wrecked villa hall.
The vast space had long since emptied of guests. Only the mess remained, with traces of last night's revelry everywhere.
On the armchair by the living room window, Rimuru sat curled up lazily. His simple white casual clothes were clean and fresh, completely at odds with the mess around him.
He was playing with a compact high-definition video camera. Its screen was still on, looping the highlights of Tony's drunken antics the night before: clowning around, arguing with Pepper, and boasting to thin air. The picture and sound were crystal clear, and every embarrassing detail had been perfectly recorded.
Hearing the movement, Rimuru looked up at the newly awakened Tony and teased him with the air of someone eager to watch the drama unfold. "Oh~ Our sleeping beauty Stark is awake? I've saved a complete recording of your classic drunken highlights, made three backups, and preserved them forever."
Tony's mouth twitched violently. His hangover headache was instantly eclipsed by the embarrassment of utter humiliation. He glared at the camera through gritted teeth. "Delete it! Right now! Immediately!"
"No can do."
Rimuru refused outright and tapped the screen to pause playback. "This is exclusive footage, a comedy treasure to keep for decades. I'm going to play it at your wedding someday. How could I delete it?"
"Where's Pepper? Where did she go?" Tony asked instinctively.
"Big Sister Pepper went to clean up after you. You got drunk and made a scene last night, and you drove a lot of people away. Pepper went to mend those relationships, and there's the upcoming Stark Expo too." She was really run off her feet right now.
Tony fell silent and didn't argue.
He knew how absurd he had been, and he understood everyone's concerns. The threat of palladium poisoning remained unresolved, and the palladium was eating away at his body every moment. Though he had the recovery potion, the feeling of a guillotine at his neck, sometimes near and sometimes far, was hard for the ever-proud and arrogant Tony to accept. He seemed to be indulging in wild parties and wallowing in decadence, but in truth, he was consumed by anxiety and helplessness.
He had gone through every known element on Earth and exhausted every existing theory, yet still couldn't find a substitute for palladium. The shadow of death hung over him, and he could only numb himself with revelry to escape his helplessness.
Rimuru could understand the feeling too. As the saying went, a gentleman did not stand beneath a crumbling wall. Tony's situation, with death possible at any moment yet held at bay, really was hard to bear. "If you can't find a replacement, why not try creating a new element? It's not like you have any other choice."
Rimuru's naive words made Tony laugh. He was just about to mock him when he suddenly realized something was off. The last time Rimuru had suggested creating a new element, Tony had taken it as a joke, but now he had brought it up again.
Tony muttered to himself, then turned to Rimuru with a sharp look. "You know something, don't you? You weren't just talking off the top of your head when you reminded me to switch to a new element last night. You even know what's going to happen next."
Rimuru didn't deny it. He met Tony's gaze openly and chuckled. "What if I do? You walk your own path, and you make your own breakthroughs in technology. I can warn you about the danger, but I can't create a new future for you. The only person who can save you has always been yourself."
Tony calmed himself and slowly said, "Then, Prophet Rimuru, what happens next? Or rather, what should I do next?"
At S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury received a call from Tony asking for the things his father had left behind. Fury was stunned. Wait, how did Tony know about those? Then a thought occurred to him, and a certain blue figure slowly came to mind. "Motherfucker!"
After a full day of tireless effort, though you'd smashed the villa into something resembling a ruin, congratulations, you'd made it. Now Nobel ought to give you a prize.
Rimuru felt gratified, as though a pig he'd raised had grown fat.
"Being able to win a Nobel Prize does mean you're a genius, but I don't need anyone else to prove my intelligence," Tony said calmly, as though it were only natural.
That was one hell of a grandiose way to show off.