Marvel: Ma'am, I'm your husband's boss

His face was somewhat pale, or should I use the word "grim white", a bloodless white, as if the vitality had been drained away, like a piece of white paper thrown casually in a dark corner, having lost all its luster and vitality.

The neck was covered with a very strange purple meridian, which was like an evil vine, crawling on his skin. Their color was so dark that it was almost black, as if they were hiding endless dark power, spreading wantonly on Stark's neck, making him look like a cursed, dying old man. Each meridian was prominent on the surface of the skin, and seemed to be constantly wriggling, telling some ominous omen.

He was panting as he went upstairs, and every breath was like a difficult battle, heavy and rapid. The breathing sound echoed in the silent room, like the "wheezing" sound of an old bellows.

His body rose and fell violently with his breathing, and his chest was like a bellows that was about to collapse, pumping with difficulty.

Even when he pushed open the glass door of the basement stairs, he felt as if he couldn't push it open. The glass door seemed to have become an insurmountable obstacle. His arms were trembling slightly, and his muscles were like ropes that had lost their strength, weak and powerless. He held the door handle tightly with both hands, and the veins on his arms bulged. It was the last struggle of the little strength left in his body.

It took a lot of effort to push the glass door open. The door made a dull creaking sound, as if it was sighing for his weakness.

He saw Fisk at a glance, and then said to the blonde woman, "Don't worry, this is my guest." Although Stark's voice was weak, it was firm and unquestionable.

"Guest? I don't think someone who appeared on the balcony out of nowhere could be a guest." The blonde woman still looked at Fisk warily, her eyes full of vigilance, like a mother wolf protecting her cubs, always ready to attack any possible threat. Her body leaned forward slightly, like a cheetah ready to attack, holding the computer tightly in her hands, as if it was her only weapon.

And just as she turned around, Fisk had already walked in. He was like a ghost, silently passing through the intact glass door. The blonde woman was stunned again, her eyes wide open, looking at the intact glass door with some disbelief. Her mind went blank in an instant, unable to comprehend what was happening before her eyes.

She originally thought that the glass door was a reliable barrier that could keep out the uninvited guest, but now, this perception was completely shattered.

Her lips trembled slightly and she wanted to say something, but she found that her throat seemed to be choked by something and she couldn't utter a word.

Fisk supported Stark and said with some sarcasm in his tone: "How did you make yourself so embarrassed, Mr. America's biggest playboy?"

Stark grinned. He seldom trusted people, but for some reason, when he was with Fisk, he always felt that Fisk was trustworthy, and even felt that he had met him too late. He forced himself to cheer up and said jokingly, "That might be because the Playboy cover girl this month is a pair of twins. It took me a lot of effort to win them over."

Fisk couldn't help but burst into laughter when he heard this. The laughter echoed in the room, easing the tense atmosphere a little. "Mr. Stark, you are still as romantic as ever. However, I don't think your physical condition is able to withstand this kind of 'high-intensity exercise'." As he spoke, he helped Stark slowly walk to the sofa.

Stark let Fisk hold him up, and he felt his legs were as heavy as if they were filled with lead. "Don't be fooled by my current appearance, Fisk, this is just a small problem, I will solve it soon, and I heard that the cover girl next month is a triplet, don't try to snatch it from me." Although his voice was weak, his eyes still revealed that stubbornness and confidence.

The blonde woman watched the interaction between the two from the side, but she was still wary.

She frowned and said, "Mr. Stark, are you sure he is your guest? You are in a very bad condition now. I don't think you should trust him."

Stark looked at the blonde woman and shook his head slightly. "Pepper, I know you're doing this for my own good, but Fisk is my guest, and I believe he won't do anything bad to me." He turned his head and looked at Fisk again, "Right, Fisk?"

"Of course, I would never harm my friends." Fisk's expression was calm and he nodded affirmatively, "More importantly, the purpose of my visit this time is to help our Playboy solve his little heart problem."

"In fact, I have found a solution!" Stark pursed his lips, unwilling to admit defeat, but then said: "However, if you have a better method, Fisk, I will also accept it humbly, provided that your method is better than mine."

"That's natural....By the way, where's my cheeseburger?"

Chapter 228 Treatment of Stark

Fisk opened a bottle of Coke and touched the carefully constructed plastic film around him. At this moment, he was in Stark's basement, and Stark was lying on an operating table that looked very expensive. Fisk had an impression of this operating table because the First People's Hospital in New York used a variant of this operating table. Fisk had seen it once when signing a purchase order. The two operating tables were surprisingly similar in some aspects.

However, Stark's operating table was obviously specially modified. Many mechanical arms were added, so it looked very technological. Those mechanical arms were like flexible silver tentacles, quietly hanging on both sides of the operating table. The joints of each arm flickered with a faint blue light, as if they contained powerful energy. The surface of the mechanical arms was extremely smooth, reflecting the surrounding environment, as if they were made of the most advanced alloy. Their structure was delicate and complex, from the thick trunk to the slender operating part at the end, all of which showed a high degree of engineering wisdom.

Fisk drank Coke and paced around the operating table with interest, his eyes occasionally lingering on the mechanical arms. He thought to himself, Stark is really a genius, he can always come up with these amazing things.

These robotic arms were more than just a decoration on the operating table. Fisk could imagine their use in various precision surgeries or Stark's crazy inventions, perhaps assisting him with microscopic welding or performing precise sample extraction in dangerous experiments.

Stark lay quietly on the operating table, his face still pale, those strange purple meridians looming on his neck. He looked like a precious cultural relic waiting to be restored, or a lamb to be slaughtered.

At least, that was the feeling coming from the surgeon, Fisk, who was drinking a Coke while walking in a makeshift sterile room.

Each of his steps was nonchalant and leisurely, as if this was not a life-or-death surgery preparation site, but his own backyard. His huge body seemed a bit out of place in this relatively small sterile room, but he didn't care at all, still enjoying his Coke as usual, and his eyes would occasionally glance at Stark on the operating table.

Not far away, Pepper Potts had a puzzled expression on her face, her eyes full of worry and uncertainty. She stood there quietly, her hands unconsciously clasped together, her fingers twisting constantly, showing her inner tension. She hesitated for a moment, and finally said, "Can I ask a question? Although, I know I shouldn't raise questions now, but do you have a medical license? That is, a doctor's license. Of course, if you provide a surgical qualification certificate or something like that according to New York State law, I would also be very happy to do so."

Fisk stopped walking when he heard this, and slowly turned his head to look at Pepper. There was no anger on his face, but a faint smile, but there seemed to be something elusive hidden in that smile. He gently shook the Coke bottle in his hand, and the Coke inside made a slight shaking sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet sterile room.

"Ms. Potts, your worry is normal." Fisk's voice was low and steady, as if it had a magical power to calm people. "I really should take out some industry qualification license or something like that so that you can feel more at ease. Or I should play you a VCR with a detailed introduction of me, including what medical awards I have won."

He paused for a moment, a strange smile appeared on his face, and he patted Tony Stark on the shoulder; "But unfortunately, I have nothing."

Tony Stark curled his lips. Although his condition was getting worse, he still joked humorously: "If this is the case, I suddenly have some doubts about the success rate of this operation."

Fisk shrugged helplessly. "Mr. Stark, sometimes trust is like a gamble. You and I both know that you don't have much choice now."

"Wait a minute!" Pepper Potts tried to stop her again. "How about this? I'll go get some specialized doctors. This might be safer... What do you think?"

Tony Stark shook his head and comforted him, "I don't have a choice. Those doctors can't save me. Don't worry, I won't die that easily. I'm Tony Stark." Maybe it was because he was too weak, but when he said "Tony Stark", his tone was heavy, and it sounded a lot like "Tony Shitbag".

Oh, Stark and Potts didn't notice anything unusual, but Fisk's mouth couldn't help but curl up. He didn't expect that he would be the first to see this classic scene on the screen.

Fisk quickly put away his smile, cleared his throat and said, "Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark is right. His current condition is very special, and ordinary doctors will be helpless in the face of such a situation. I know it's hard for you to believe me, but it's the truth."

Pepper bit her lip, her eyes moving back and forth between Tony and Fisk. She knew Tony was stubborn, and once he made a decision, it would be hard for anyone to change it. But she couldn't trust Tony to this person who didn't have medical qualifications.

Tony raised his hand with great effort and held Pepper's hand. His hand was very cold, but he held Pepper tightly, as if he wanted to give her strength in this way. "Pepper, I know you are doing this for my own good. But now we can only trust Fisk. This is our last hope."

Pepper's eyes were a little wet. She looked at Tony and said with a choked voice: "But I'm really scared, Mr. Stark. I can't lose you."

Seeing the two of them like they were performing in a melodrama, Fisk rolled his eyes speechlessly and said, "I'm sorry, although I don't want to interrupt the sincere love between you two, although this operation is a little tricky, it's not to the point of life and death." Fisk finished drinking, threw the Coke in his hand back, and then walked over.

Stark pursed his lips. Seeing that Fisk hadn't even washed his hands, he pulled the surgical gown on his chest and whispered, "I think I regret it a little. What should I do?"

When Fisk heard this, he stopped what he was doing, raised his eyebrows and looked at Stark, "Mr. Stark, it's a bit too late to regret now. You have to know that at this time, hesitation will not bring you any benefits." Although his voice was flat, it carried an unquestionable majesty.

Pepper wiped the tears from her eyes and said to Fisk with some dissatisfaction: "Mr. Fisk, can you please respect Mr. Stark a little? He is a patient now, and he has put his life in your hands. You should at least show a little professionalism."

Fisk shrugged, "Ms. Potts, this is my most professional attitude. In my opinion, too much emotion will only affect the operation. Besides, I don't have that much time to accompany you to play a life and death drama here." Fisk tore off Stark's clothes while speaking. There was a big hole in Stark's chest. A cylindrical instrument emitting blue light was working continuously. Ordinary people may not be able to hear it, but Fisk heard it clearly. He could hear that this instrument emitting blue light contained an overclocked sound wave.

Fisk frowned, a hint of doubt flashed in his eyes. The existence of this overclocked sound wave was somewhat unexpected to him. He didn't know whether it was a protection mechanism designed by Stark himself or an abnormal phenomenon caused by his physical problems. He stretched out his hand, trying to get closer to the cylindrical instrument, but felt a weak force repelling his palm.

"This thing is interesting." Fisk muttered to himself.

Pepper couldn't help but exclaimed when she saw what was happening on Stark's chest. Although she knew that Stark had this special device on his chest, she was still shocked and worried every time she saw it.

"Mr. Fisk, this instrument is an important thing that Mr. Stark uses to maintain his life. You must be very careful."

Stark smiled proudly and said, "It looks beautiful, right? You will never guess where I made this thing."

Fisk glanced at him. "It must have been in a very bad place. Considering where you were attacked, I seriously doubt that you made it in a cave. And it must have some heavy metals plus radiation. It's probably some kind of radioactive substance that's not very lethal. It poisoned your body. In a way, the reason you died like this is not all because of the missile fragments that were so close to your heart, but because of this radioactive substance that is constantly destroying your body. Also, I smell celery juice in your mouth - do you add sugar when you drink it?"

Tony Stark was quite dissatisfied when he saw his masterpiece being disparaged by Fisk. He said, "If possible, I suddenly want to replace you as the attending physician."

Fisk raised his eyebrows and said nonchalantly, "Mr. Stark, of course you can replace me, but I don't think you can find anyone who knows your physical condition better than me. You think this little thing on your chest is an amazing invention. Yes, it is indeed a genius to be able to create this in such a desperate situation, but it is obvious that you also made mistakes. At least you overlooked the damage that this radioactive substance would cause to your body."

Stark frowned and retorted: "What do you know? This thing kept me alive. Without it, I would have died long ago. I pieced this together from a pile of scrap metal in the cave. It is the fruit of my wisdom."

Fisk shook his head, a weird smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: "Fortunately, I'm not a crazy scientist, otherwise, I would definitely have worshipful feelings towards you."

Stark smiled and said, "I'm not interested in men."

"Haha!" Fisk also laughed and placed his palm on the blue core.

Then, in the next second, he directly pulled out the blue core.

Everything happened so fast that neither Stark nor Boz had any reaction. One second after the blue core left Stark's chest, Stark's face suddenly turned pale. Although his face didn't look good to begin with, as the blue core was thrown aside by Fisk, Stark's face turned pale, and he felt like he would die at any moment.

Pepper Potts widened her eyes and screamed in horror: "What are you doing? Fisk! You're going to kill him!" Her voice was filled with extreme anger and despair. She covered her mouth with her hands unconsciously, and her body trembled slightly with fear.

Fisk, however, looked calm. He looked at Stark's gradually graying face and said calmly, "Mr. Stark, if I ask you for your bank card password now, will you give it to me?"

Stark suddenly felt that nothing was wrong with him. He looked down and found that a light blue light was constantly flashing in the air at the original core location. He stared at the blue light with a puzzled expression, as if he wanted to analyze the substance represented by the blue light.

Fisk stretched out his finger and gently hooked the wound on Stark's chest, like a fishhook disguised by bait. It hooked the fish's mouth, and one after another, metal fragments, flashing with golden light, burst out from the healed wound as if they had turned into sponges.

Stark was grimacing in pain, but he looked much more energetic and didn't look like a dying man at all.

Boz looked at everything in front of him with surprise, his eyes full of disbelief.

"Is this magic?" Stark asked curiously.

"No," Fisk said with a smile, "This is the reward for selling your soul to the devil." As he spoke, one metal fragment after another flew quickly in the air, as if controlled by an invisible force. The fragments flashed with strange light, leaving golden tracks in the air. A few minutes later, Fisk grabbed all the metal fragments from Stark's chest, waved his palm in the air, and the metal fragments fell into the surgical tray not far away, making a crisp sound of impact.

Then, Fisk cut his wrist, and a blood mark appeared on his wrist. The bright red blood slowly oozed out and then dripped onto Stark's chest. As drops of blood fell on the wound, the wound that looked like it was about to rot actually healed at a speed visible to the naked eye. The new skin was like a bud growing vigorously in spring, quickly covering the originally hideous wound, and the skin around the wound that originally exuded a rancid smell gradually regained its healthy color.

Tony Starkley grinned and said, "I hope you don't have AIDS." Although his words were teasing, his eyes were full of curiosity about this magical scene.

Fisk shrugged. "Maybe I did, but I can't say for sure."

Boz was stunned, her lips trembling slightly, as if she wanted to say something but didn't know how to start. After a long while, she finally found her voice: "Mr. Fisk, who... who are you? Your ability is beyond my comprehension."

Fisk simply bandaged his wrist with a piece of gauze, then looked up at Potts with a mysterious smile on his face: "Ms. Potts, it doesn't matter who I am. What's important is that Mr. Stark is out of danger now, at least for the time being."

"For now, is that so?"

"Yes, after all, I can't stop him from sticking that weird thing on his chest." Fisk pointed to the blue core that fell on the ground not far away, and patted Stark on the shoulder: "Celery juice may not necessarily relieve heavy metals. At least when it is close to your skin, the heavy metal radiation that is considered to be within the controllable range will kill you and mutate your genes. You may even give birth to a child with three heads and six arms in the future... But this way she can tell you that she loves you nine thousand times."

Chapter 229: Humiliation after defeat (Part )

Because the wound on the chest has healed.

Tony Stark immediately picked up the beer impatiently, like a traveler who had been thirsty in the desert for a long time and suddenly found an oasis, and then took a big gulp.

Before, in order to avoid dying on the spot, he only dared to eat cheeseburgers and cola, which were relatively high in calories. He didn't dare to touch alcohol and nicotine-filled cigarettes and cigars, as they were like bombs that could explode at any time.

If you think about it carefully, he hasn't had a beer since the incident in the desert. For Tony, this is as painful as a superhero losing his superpowers.

"Actually, there are still problems you can't solve?"

"I thought you were omniscient and omnipotent."

Fisk opened another bottle of Coke, his skilled movements as natural and smooth as a cowboy drawing his gun. He played with the energy core in his hand, which was still flashing blue light, like a child playing with a new toy. Then he shrugged at Stark and said, "God is omniscient and omnipotent. Everyone has his own specialty.

The other party was actually hiding behind the computer screen, like a group of timid mice hiding in a hole, only daring to secretly stick their heads out to cause damage.

Since they like to hide behind the computer and play dirty tricks, I can only change the method to overturn the table." Fisk pursed his lips, like a parent thinking about how to teach a naughty child a lesson, and then told Tony Stark about the financial attack he encountered.

Tony Stark raised his eyebrows, which looked like two naughty little caterpillars dancing. A trace of curiosity and doubt flashed in his eyes, as brief and bright as a meteor that suddenly streaked across the night sky. "Financial attack? This is quite interesting.

You don't look like someone who can be easily calculated. The financial attack that can give you a headache must be very complicated. "He put down the beer, and the action was like putting down a precious treasure, and leaned forward slightly, like a curious cat seeing an interesting ball of wool, and its attention was completely attracted.

Fisk frowned, his brows were wrinkled like a crumpled rag, his expression was a little helpless, and he said: "There is a huge organization behind this, they are like a group of super cunning foxes, good at manipulating the market, using various complex financial means to achieve their goals.

I thought my business empire was strong enough, like an impregnable castle, but they always found loopholes and attacked me from places I least expected. They were like a group of small ants, seemingly inconspicuous, but they could quietly dig holes in the corners of the castle until the castle was riddled with holes.

Tony Stark's mouth curled up into a smile, that smile was as bright as the morning sun, and with his usual confidence, he said: "It sounds like a group of cunning rats, but you have found the right person. In addition to being a genius inventor, I am also a successful businessman and a genius who is proficient in computers. Tsk tsk tsk tsk..."

As he spoke, he shook his head like an old scholar, as if to express his disdain for those who attacked Fisk. "If those guys knew that they had provoked you and then you found me as a 'rescuer', they would definitely regret it and want to find a hole to hide in. They thought they were safe hiding behind the computer screen, just like a thief who thought he would not be discovered hiding in the dark. They were so naive. I am Tony Stark, the best businessman and computer genius in the world."

"That's why I came to you, isn't it?" Fisk raised the Coke in his hand, "Cheers to the genius, and a new life!"

Stark also raised the beer bottle in his hand and gently touched Fisk's Coke, then said, "If I go to Brussels, I can help you solve this kind of small problem in ten minutes, but if I'm here, it will take me at least half an hour to track their location."

"So soon?" Fisk was a little surprised. You know, as the Internet becomes more and more developed, the financial field is also progressing at a rapid pace, and those financial black hands hidden behind the Internet are also more adept at disguising and hiding their tracks. He originally thought that this would be an extremely difficult problem that would require a lot of time and energy, and might even require various personal connections to solve. Unexpectedly, Stark said so casually that it seemed to be a short time limit.

Stark smiled and explained confidently, "Don't underestimate Stark Industries' network. The Brussels network hub has a super-encrypted channel that I specially set up. It is a backdoor I reserved for emergency business affairs. Through it, I can directly access some core financial networks, which will greatly speed up the acquisition of information. However, here, although the conditions are not so convenient, I also have my own way."

Fisk asked curiously, "What's the solution? I don't want you to break any laws or cause unnecessary trouble just to help me."

Stark waved his hand. "Don't worry, these are all legal means. I will first use Jarvis to conduct an in-depth analysis of the known attacked data to screen out abnormal nodes that may be related. Then I will cross-check with some public financial transaction data to find out the suspicious fund flows hidden behind normal transactions. Although this process will be more complicated, as long as Jarvis is given enough time, it will not be difficult to find their location."