"Already in progress, sir," Jarvis's voice rang out imdiately.
"Severe trauma, third-degree infection, anemia, dehydration, and... an unknown device in your chest have been detected. Imdiate dical intervention is recomnded."
"Handle the infection and dehydration first." Tony sat down on the sofa, his entire body practically sinking into it.
"This thing in my chest... we'll deal with it later."
Mavuika gently let go of Tony and turned to Pepper. "He needs rest. Although he's been through quite a lot this ti, his life isn't in imdiate danger for now."
Pepper looked at Mavuika, tears welling up again, but this ti they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Ms. Marvica. Truly... I don't know what to say..."
"Don't ntion it." Mavuika smiled slightly. "Tony is my friend. Besides, he promised to repair my motorcycle for many years; I can't let him die just like that."
Tony weakly waved his hand from the sofa. "Speaking of which, Mavuika, don't even think about it for a while. After all, I'm an injured man... Oh, right, Pepper, can you arrange a room for Ethan? He needs rest, clean clothes, and food. He's my savior."
Pepper nodded imdiately, regaining her efficiency as a professional assistant. "Of course. Mr. Ethan, please follow . There's a guest room upstairs with clean clothes and toiletries in the bathroom. I'll have the kitchen prepare so food and bring it up right away."
Ethan nodded sowhat awkwardly and said in accented English, "Thank you, Miss Potts, but please don't go to too much trouble..."
"It's no trouble at all," Pepper said gently, then looked at Ms. Marvica. "Ms. Marvica, will you be staying? I can prepare a room for you."
Mavuika shook her head. "No, I'm heading back to New York. Tony is safe now, and you all need ti to handle the aftermath."
She walked over to Tony and looked down at him. "Rember my words, Tony. That device is only temporary. Your body needs real treatnt, which current dicine might not be able to provide."
Tony looked up at her with a complex gaze. "What you said before about 'dying once'... were you serious?"
"I'll tell you more when the ti is right." Mavuika didn't answer directly. "For now, focus on recovering and handling your company. I saw the news; Stark Industries' stock price has dropped 14% while you were missing."
Tony grinned, though it looked a bit distorted from the pain. "Only 14%? It seems I'm still quite valuable in the eyes of investors."
Mavuika smiled as well and reached out to gently pat Tony's shoulder. It was light, yet Tony felt a surge of warm energy flow into his body, and the sharp pain in his chest instantly lessened significantly.
"Rest well, Tony," she said, then turned to Pepper. "Take good care of him. If he does anything stupid, call ."
Pepper nodded solemnly. "I will."
Mavuika said nothing more and turned toward the terrace.
Golden-red flas rose from beneath her feet, enveloping her entire body. Under the gaze of Pepper and Ethan, she transford into a beam of light, soaring into the sky and disappearing into the depths of the night.
The living room fell silent for a few seconds.
"Every ti I see her leave like that, I feel like I'm dreaming," Tony murmured to himself, then looked at Pepper.
"Alright, Pepper, now tell in detail—what have I missed these past three days? Is Obie already preparing to take over my office?"
Pepper took a deep breath and began her report. This was a rhythm she was familiar with; Tony was back, and the World was turning once again.
At ten o'clock the next morning, in the dia Hall of the Stark Industries headquarters.
The hall, which could accommodate three hundred people, was packed to the brim.
Every cara, every lens, and every microphone was pointed at the podium.
Reporters whispered among themselves, the atmosphere tense yet excited. Tony Stark had miraculously survived after being missing for three days and had personally requested a press conference; this was undoubtedly the biggest news of the year.
The side door behind the podium opened.
Tony walked out.
The entire hall fell silent instantly, leaving only the clicking sounds of cara shutters.
Every eye was focused on him. He had changed into a clean suit, and although his face was still pale with obvious dark circles under his eyes, the device in his chest was cleverly hidden by his suit and shirt, showing only a slight bulge.
He still walked a bit slowly, but his back was ramrod straight. His expression was that classic Tony Stark mix the reporters knew well: arrogant, confident, and a hint of cynicism.
Obadiah Stane followed behind him, a perfectly tid smile of relief plastered on his broad face.
But if anyone were to observe closely, they would find that his eyes were not as relaxed as his appearance suggested.
Tony walked up to the podium and adjusted the microphone.
Instead of opening with a quip as usual, he spoke directly, his voice carrying to every corner of the hall through the sound system.
"I'm sure you all have many questions," he said, his gaze sweeping across the room.
"Yes, I'm alive. Yes, I was kidnapped. Yes, I escaped. I don't want to go into much detail because it involves so things... I'd rather not rember."
He paused, and the hall beca so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
"But during those three days, I saw things," Tony continued, his voice growing low.
"I saw Stark Industries' weapons—weapons I designed, masterpieces I was proud of—in the hands of innocent people, being used for things I never imagined. I saw villages destroyed by missiles I built. I saw children holding rifles I designed. I saw... my legacy becoming synonymous with death."
A wave of whispers rippled through the press corps, and cara lenses zood in closer.
Obadiah's expression began to change. He took half a step forward, wanting to say sothing, but Tony raised a hand to stop him.
"So today, I stand here to announce one thing." Tony's voice suddenly beca forceful, every word like a hamr striking an anvil.
"Effective imdiately, Stark Industries will permanently shut down its Weapons Manufacturing Division. We will fulfill our existing arms sales contracts, but we will not take any new weapons orders. All weapons research and developnt projects are terminated imdiately, and the relevant production lines will be transitioned or closed within six months."
Dead silence.
Then, an explosion!
The entire dia Hall was like a bomb had been dropped; reporters all stood up, and questions surged in like a tide.
"Mr. Stark! Are you joking?"
"Eighty percent of Stark Industries' revenue cos from munitions! What does closing the defense division an?"
"Has the board agreed? Mr. Obadiah, what is your comnt on this?"
"Does this an Stark Industries will exit the ranks of Defense Contractors?"
Tony stood expressionless at the podium, letting the flashbulbs burst before his face.
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