Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

Chapter 5868 - 4890: Marvelous Shadows and Ingenious Scenes (16)

The film after the major script revision is still being shot in Hampton. Thanks to the Time Management Bureau, the writers had ample time to work without significantly delaying the schedule. Winter isn’t over yet, and the last snowstorm will come in three days. Blizzard, estate, banquet, nothing suits a murder more.Stark, dressed in formal wear, is getting ready. He gazes at his reflection in the mirror, immersing himself in a certain low and gloomy mood. The snow will only fall today, and they must complete the climax of the film this day, everyone must give their all, including Stark himself.

In fact, he doesn’t need too much acting skill. The young man in the mirror looks so fragile, melancholic, dazed, and shattered. However, the spiritual pillars belonging to the mature Iron Man prevent these negative emotions from collapsing completely, thus they don’t appear weak, just overly sensitive. No one can avert their gaze from the eyes in this reflection.

The opening also starts from the mirror.

A young man stands in front of the sink, his black hair hangs over his forehead, dampened by a few drops of water. The droplets slide from his temple to his cheekbone, then a bit to the right. He raises his eyes, and everyone in the mirror simultaneously raises theirs.

"Today." When the bay’s tide recedes to the deepest point, the lighthouse lights up.

"Now." On the winding mountain road, snow fills the sky.

"You are about to hear a name that is very familiar to you." An ancient estate appears as a hazy silhouette in the snow mist.

"I am Anthony Edward Stark." The meticulously managed suit pants legs separate the wind and snow outside the door from the flowing lights inside.

"And, a story about me that you have never known." The champagne towers on both shoulders and those silhouettes chatting side by side become as blurry as the snow and wind.

"Not Iron Man, but Tony Stark." The silhouette in formal wear seems even smaller against the estate’s gate.

"A patient tortured by anxiety for decades." Threshold.

"A genius scientist." Floor.

"A billionaire." Table leg.

"A playboy." Column.

"A superhero." Picture frame.

"A human." Courtyard.

"Bang!"

A falling body.

"Cut!" Chris shouted, "Perfect. All right, you playing the corpse, put away your tentacles first..."

Eddie flipped over from the ground, retrieved the Venom tentacles stuck to the courtyard, and after getting up from the ground, shook his arms: "I say, buddy, without a ton of chocolate, you can’t pacify him."

"A ton? You underestimate my Iron Man?" Stark pointed, "My chocolate planet is almost complete, you can move there and I’ll make you the Chocolate Planet Lord."

"Tony!!!" Chris shouted again, "Chase scene filming!!!"

"Coming!" Stark responded. When he reached the corridor, Shiller was already waiting there. Stark took a deep breath.

"Remember, Tony, all you need to do is run, and most importantly, don’t summon the mecha halfway through..."

"Got it, got it." Stark waved his hand, "How many times have you emphasized this..."

"I can’t be blamed for this," Chris said somewhat helplessly, "who knew during the mystery scene filming you’d drop a mecha from the sky and ruin all six corpse props we prepared?"

Stark touched his cheek: "That’s my fault, but I was just a bit startled. It definitely won’t happen this time."

Two minutes later, a thunderous mecha crashed through the window. Before Chris could say anything, Strange, waiting at the staircase, had already come down cursing loudly.

"How long do I have to wait for you?!" Strange shouted down the corridor, "JARVIS! Control his mecha!"

"Sorry, sir," JARVIS’s voice sounded from beside, "Mr. Stark has highest control over his mecha..."

"Find some people to hold his mecha!"

"Then they will be taken to the set together!"

"Find Spider Man!!!"

After more than half an hour of fuss, the snow almost stopped. Stark finally ran through a ten-meter-long corridor, bumping directly into Strange who was coming down the stairs. He leaned forward to look down the corridor, and upon seeing Shiller, pulled Stark upstairs.

"Finally wrapping it up!" Chris said, "But your portrayal of exhaustion and fear was excellent."

"That’s because I’m genuinely exhausted and afraid!" Stark shouted down from the upstairs railing, "Make the guy downstairs go away! Or I’ll activate the hand cannon!"

"You acted well too," Chris patted Shiller’s shoulder, "this way everyone will think you’re the murderer."

Shiller smiled at him. Then Chris walked upward again, and said to Stark and Strange, "Next up is your scene together, you haven’t forgotten the lines, have you?"

"If he takes any longer, I might just forget." Strange sighed. He rolled up his sleeves, however, he wasn’t wearing the kind of suit that Shiller and Stark had on but was dressed in a waiter’s uniform.

"Remember, later you’ll go up the stairs." Chris pushed Stark to the bottom of the first step of the stairs, then turned his head to look at Strange ahead, saying, "You stop at the top and turn back to look at him. There’s an exchange of glances, and then you need to act dazed, understand?"

"That I don’t need to act out," Strange said.

The tall, lean young waiter stopped in his tracks. He looked back at the person behind him, and when he saw those eyes, the contempt and disdain on his face gradually froze, but did not transform into flattery and obeisance typical of ordinary people; instead, it became deeper, as if he were studying some kind of scripture.

"Are you a waiter?" Stark asked, "You don’t look the part."

Standing in the shadows, Strange indeed didn’t look it. Although dressed in a waiter’s uniform, incomparable to those splendid suits, his appearance had a kind of "intellectual brilliance," making it clear he could never be the type to make a living through physical labor. Elevated to the extreme, it manifested a noble quality of one whose fingers have never touched menial work.

"I am." Strange spoke with a certain mystical cadence. Even though he was quite young then, lacking the beard and silver sideburns of the Supreme Magician, you could see through this face, through these eyes, another time’s Grand Mage.

"You came just in time," Stark said, "Get me out of here, someone died downstairs."

"I know." Strange turned and started moving upward.

As Stark followed him, "How do you know? Where are you going? Aren’t you afraid of meeting the murderer?"

One step up, and then another.

The final step stepped onto a sea of blood red.

A blizzard roared in.

The scene completely shattered. Standing before the washbasin, the young man bent down, and the mirror was blank. The sound of the running faucet echoed, the water gathering into a downward whirlpool at the drain, while outside the window, the snowstorm raged on.

Stark straightened up, ruffling the dry hair on his forehead, then adjusted his tie in the mirror. Viewed from the side, his eyelashes were long, and as he leaned his body closer to the mirror, his lashes were almost like a sword ready to pierce through.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened. Stark instinctively turned his head to look, and everything went black.

The Spider-Men were lining up to visit Stark. They came over, exclaimed "Wow!", pulled the next one over, then let out the same gasp. Until everyone had their turn, they finally sent out a representative.

"Mr. Stark, you were so handsome when you were young," Spider Man said, somewhat shyly, "Your eyes are so beautiful, they’re the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, like they can speak, I get a little shy when you look at me."

Faced with such normal and heartwarming praise, Stark was genuinely moved to tears. Finally, it wasn’t something like "storied," "horror movie’s chosen leading man," or "psychopathy bait," definitely his good Peter.

At that moment, Chris walked over again, holding the script, now a bit tattered, saying, "Today’s shoot is about done, come early tomorrow to shoot the setup scenes before."

Stark let out a sigh of relief. Spider Man curiously asked, "Why do I feel this is like a suspense movie?"

"You’re not wrong," Stark said, "It’s indeed a suspense horror mystery movie."

"What made you decide to film this?" Spider Man was even more curious, "So who’s the murderer?"

Stark shook his head and said nothing. At this moment, someone walked over and said, "Mr. Stark, your wife is here for a visit."

Stark quickly headed in that direction. Sure enough, he saw Pepper handing out little gifts and coffee to the staff.

"Oh, Pepper." Stark hurried over and gave her a hug. Pepper, just turning around, instinctively opened her arms to embrace him, patting his back.

"There’s so many people," she said, "Let me finish up first, okay?"

Stark was visibly unwilling, but the people around them caught the cue and quickly left with their gifts. Stark held on for a long time before reluctantly letting go.

"Alright, Tony, I know the anxiety gets to you... Oh, damn." Pepper looked at Tony’s face in shock, blurting out an expletive.

Stark feigned innocence as he looked at her, but in reality, his eyes were working hard to convey emotion. Even when he didn’t try hard it was deadly, now it was obvious Pepper was a bit dizzy.

This usually shrewd and capable woman seemed to be spellbound by something, standing there staring for quite a while, before she instinctively reached out to touch the corner of Stark’s eye.

"I’m sorry I didn’t meet you back then," Stark said bending slightly, looking into Pepper’s eyes, "If we met back then, I wouldn’t waste time on those bad things, you would save me just as you’ve always done, wouldn’t you?"

Pepper stared blankly at him, unable to speak. Pepper was no longer young, she managed to maintain herself pretty well but hadn’t used the Golden Apple. Besides, she always liked to make herself look more mature to hold an advantage in business. Every mark time left on her was her weapon.

In front of this somewhat inexperienced Tony Stark, they seemed like a generation apart. But the atmosphere between them felt more like young lovers traveling through time to meet their current selves.

Pepper gently caressed Stark’s cheek, before speaking after a while, "I wouldn’t have met you back then, Mr. Stark. In those days, I was back in the office managing printers."

Stark stared at her unblinkingly, then suddenly smiled, "Then I’ll save myself first, and then come to save you."