Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

Just now Stark was tightly clinging to his clothes, not because he was shy about being exposed, but purely because he didn't want others to see his injuries, especially not Shiller and Strange.

Stark has one characteristic, that is, the closer he is to someone, the more stubborn he becomes. Even if he were now thrown into the furnace modified by Shiller and burned all day, only his mouth would remain, loudly proclaiming "I'm fine."

And facing these two troublesome friends, Shiller and Strange, he was even less willing to expose his embarrassing state. Instead of describing how he ended up this way, he might rather buy a wheelchair.

The thought only lingered in Shiller's mind for a moment before he made a decision. He walked back to the operating table and looked at Stark, saying, "I learned from the newspaper that you were captured, detective, how does the prison cell taste?"

Stark mumbled a few words, seemingly struggling to think of excuses, but his brain wasn't working fast enough, which resulted in him groping for words and not managing to articulate half a sentence.

"If you think this is merely because you were foolish, then you're too naive," Shiller said. "Even from the scraps of information in the reports, I can tell it's clear someone betrayed you."

Stark was already feeling tired from losing too much blood, but his eyes widened instantly upon hearing this.

"Someone betrayed me? Who?!"

"Are you the detective or am I?" Shiller replied. "How efficient do you think the police of this era can be without surveillance cameras? It wouldn't be so easy to catch you if someone hadn't provided them with clues."

Strange rolled his eyes slightly at him, but Shiller didn't feel the slightest bit ashamed. He kept leading Stark to push all the blame towards the informer.

Under Shiller's gentle persuasion, Stark finally talked about how he had been arrested and how he ended up back in the hospital.

"...I was just climbing over the hospital's backyard wall then I ran into an alleyway through a side gate. But they suddenly rushed at me from the front. Steve hadn't arrived yet, and I was caught by them."

"I was in the prison for a few days. Steve soon sneaked in. Originally, both of us could have left together, but at that moment, I discovered an important witness in the prison. To get him out, Steve had to divert the guards' attention alone while I sneaked out with the witness...

"By the time we were close to escaping, the guard at the back door should have been changing shifts, but the guy was drunk. The person coming to change shifts waited at the door and didn't leave, and we were discovered. During the chase, I took a bullet to delay them. Fortunately, Steve saved me."

"But later on, more and more pursuers kept coming. I told Steve to take the witness and run first. As a result, someone attacked me from behind and knocked me down. They probably were afraid I would get up so they shot me directly."

"Were you lying on the ground then?" Strange asked.

"Yes," Stark said somewhat laboriously, moving his neck around. Shiller saw a clear trace of blunt injury there, the perpetrator seemingly had intended to knock him out.

"How far away was he from you?" Strange asked again.

"About two meters."

"Was it a Revolver?"

"Yes, police department standard issue."

"No wonder the bullet went in so deep," Strange pondered, then asked, "Do you know his height?"

"I'm not sure who fired the gun, but no one was shorter than 23 feet."

"Was he shooting standing up?"

"Yes."

"Did Steve bring you here?" Strange continued, "During the journey here, did you walk by yourself, or were you carried all the way?"

Stark displayed an embarrassed expression, and Shiller immediately spoke up, "If you insisted on walking by yourself, it would have complicated things."

He began explaining the principles to Stark, saying, "In theory, we can directly determine the bullet's location and depth from the entry wound. However, it's not that simple in practise, because with your movement, the bullet might shift positions."

"Especially bullets lodged in joints, there's a high likelihood that they might change direction and position with joint movement. Steve is an old soldier; he absolutely wouldn't let you stand on your own feet. You didn't quarrel with him, did you?"

Shiller clearly guessed right. Stark complained in a low voice, "You don't know how stubborn he is. I said I could walk, but he insisted on carrying me..."

Strange now had a clear understanding. He and Shiller stepped aside and then said, "From what I see, it might not be the worst scenario. As long as he remains still, there shouldn't be a major problem. I need to handle the abdominal wound first, you go treat other patients."

Shiller nodded. Although Stark needed treatment, the upgraded operating room had a minimum healing quota, and if they only treated Stark, it might not meet the quota requirement, so they still needed to attend to other patients.

The two together moved Stark to the adjacent bed. Strange began to remove the bullet from Stark's abdomen. Shiller pulled the lever to call for new patients. Stark, however, was somewhat dissatisfied.

"Hey, how could you do this! I took two bullets, and now you still have the heart to treat others?!"

Stark was physically weak, so he couldn't be given general anesthesia. Strange was using an anesthetic to wipe Stark's wounds, while Wanda was trying to find the right angle to administer local anesthesia.

"Behave," Strange said irately, knocking on the surgical table's rail then adding, "Lie down properly, keep your head flat, look at the ceiling and count. Let me know when the wound starts to feel numb."

Then he said to Wanda, "When dealing with such difficult patients, you need to be fierce. A firm attitude is being responsible to them."

Wanda nodded. Just as Stark was about to lift his head to say something, Wanda pressed him down the next second.

Stark, not one to accept defeat, tried even harder to lift his head when he was told not to. Just as he was about to move, a stirring stick hovered right at the center of his forehead.

Stark immediately fell silent.

Watching all this, Strange couldn't help but admire the move, especially since the victim was Tony Stark.

"I feel kind of numb," Stark said.

Strange pressed near his wound, and Stark sprung up with a yelp. The stirring stick floating above his head wasn't fixed in place but merely hovering, and with that jolt, it flew past Strange's ear.

Grinding his teeth, Strange sighed, "Didn't you say you were numb?!"

"It was a bit numb..." Stark, closing his eyes, felt carefully before saying, "This time it really is a bit numb."

Strange straightforwardly picked up the scalpel and said, "If you're numb, I'm going to start the operation."

"No, no, no, let me savor the numbness a bit more," Stark said, lying on the bed with his eyes closed. Two minutes passed, and there was still silence. Wanda had to go and call him.

Stark jolted awake. He had either fallen asleep or, due to excessive blood loss, slipped into a brief coma. When he woke up, it was as if his memory had been wiped clean, asking Strange what he should do now.

Strange was really fed up. He put down the scalpel and said to Lei beside him, "You deal with extracting the bullet, I'll go treat other patients."

"Alright," Lei put down what he was holding and came over. The patients assigned by Wood were dirty and troublesome, he really disliked this kind of tedious job. It was perfect that Strange was willing to take over.

Lei came over and picked up the scalpel. However, Stark seemed to regain his senses. He bulged his eyes, looking at Lei in panic and said, "Wait a second, aren't you a psychiatrist?!"

"True, but I also know a thing or two about physics," Lei said smoothly.

"Need more anesthesia?" Wanda said somewhat troubledly, "It should have taken effect by now, but he seems a bit tolerant..."

"Add another dose," Lei said, "I'll make the incision, then you help me stabilize the skin. I need to check the exact position of the bullet."

Wanda fetched another syringe and administered another dose. Unlike Strange, Lei didn't wait for the anesthesia to take effect and started cutting immediately.

Stark let out another low growl. Lei didn't care about the noise, he continued cutting while saying, "Seems like you can't play the tough guy. I remember when I was extracting bullets from Matt, he didn't make a single peep."

"But that's normal, after all, he's a battle-hardened superhero, and you are just a pampered wealthy man..."

Wanda couldn't help but glance at Lei. She felt that it was a bit inappropriate for Lei to say that, no matter what, you shouldn't scold a patient, right?

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Although she thought Stark's reaction was a bit over the top, even with all the anesthesia, it shouldn't have been that painful, but he actually did seem to be in pain, flinching all over, really not looking very tough.

But soon she discovered that Stark wasn't yelling anymore. She didn't know whether the anesthesia had finally worked, or if he really wanted to be a tough guy.

While wiping the sweat for Lei, Wanda noticed that Stark had actually passed out.

Lei had long realized that Stark was not good at handling pain. If he accidentally kicked a table corner, he'd react like Tom from Tom and Jerry, covering his foot, taking off from the ground, and spinning around on one foot like a ballet dancer—a dramatically theatrical scene.

Knowing this, Lei couldn't help but think back to when Tony Stark was in Afghanistan; he had cut open his own chest and stuffed the Reactor inside.

And in their cosmos, Stark hadn't removed the Reactor, it was still embedded in his chest.

Although the Stark in the Game World no longer had a Reactor, when Lei looked at his chest, he seemed to see the shape of an energy slot. He thought, the police better not push Stark too hard, otherwise once he gets into a Gundam, you'll know what Iron Man really means.

The abdominal surgery was completed quickly, and the bullet was soon extracted. Lei placed the bullet on a tray and showed it to Strange. Strange took a look and nodded, saying, "Smaller than I expected, should be able to be extracted."

"No rush," Lei said, "We'll do the surgery tonight. I'll go make some food to help him regain some strength."

Both turned their heads and looked at the White Rabbit Man lying on the bed behind them.

When Stark woke up, it was nearly noon. He was awakened by the rich aroma of meat. Turning his head, he saw Lei carrying a bowl of meat soup.

Stark swallowed and said, "What smells so good?"

"Rabbit meat herbal soup, I've been simmering it for a long time. Want some?"

Stark couldn't sit up completely, he could only use objects to prop up his head, and then Wanda fed him with a spoon.

Lei turned to look at the window frame. The Raven, which had been perched on the windowsill watching them talk, flew away when Strange and Lei teamed up to get the rabbit meat.

"This roasted chicken is quite alert, huh..."