In an alley beside Stark Tower in Manhattan, New York.
“Tony, just this once, will you please listen to me?”
Pepper Potts tugged on Tony Stark’s arm, practically dragging him into a Chinese restaurant whose sign read “Dragon Pavilion.”
The bell above the glass door gave a crisp chime.
Tony frowned as he glanced around the interior.
Six tables, a piece of Chinese calligraphy he couldn’t read hanging on the wall, and decor so spartan it bordered on shabby.
“Pepper, are you sure about this place?” Tony took off his sunglasses, his expression full of doubt.
“There are seventeen restaurants waiting for my business right below my office, including three three-star Michelin spots.”
“Just take a breath.” Pepper inhaled deeply.
Only then did Tony notice the extraordinary aroma drifting through the air.
The savory char of fried rice, a sharp and spicy savoriness, and a delicate touch of sweetness.
The scent was indeed unique—it had even wafted up to his penthouse office in the tower.
“Sit down, just for half an hour,” Pepper said, pressing Tony into a seat by the window.
“Once we finish this meal, we can talk about Afghanistan.”
Tony rolled his eyes.
“Here we go again.
Pepper, Colonel Rhodes is my friend.
He’ll keep me safe.
Besides, I have to be there in person for the Jericho missile demonstration.”
“You could send a division manager!”
“Then it loses all meaning,” Tony interrupted.
“The military wants to see Tony Stark, not some random pencil pusher with a PowerPoint presentation.”
Before Pepper could say anything more, the kitchen curtain was drawn back.
An Asian young man in his early twenties walked out, sporting short black hair and a spotless white apron.
His gaze was calm.
When he saw Tony, he didn’t show the slightest hint of surprise or fawning deference like everyone else.
“Welcome, Mr.
Stark, Ms.
Potts.” The young man’s English carried a slight accent, but was completely fluent.
“What would you like to have today?”
Tony looked him up and down.
“You’re the owner?”
“Shaun Vance.” The young man nodded.
“I’m the chef, waiter, and cashier.”
Tony smirked with a touch of condescending amusement.
“All right, Vance.
Bring us your three best dishes.
If they’re no good…” He paused.
“I won’t pay a single cent.
If they’re good, I’ll pay you ten times the price.”
“Tony!” Pepper glared at him.
Shaun’s expression didn’t waver in the slightest.
He simply nodded.
“Please wait a moment.”
As he turned back toward the kitchen, Tony noticed his steady stride and straight posture, completely unlike a cook who spent all day hunched over a stove.
“Interesting guy,” Tony muttered.
Fifteen minutes later, the first dish arrived.
Golden Egg Fried Rice.
Every single grain of rice was distinct, wrapped in golden ribbons of egg and garnished with finely chopped scallions.
Tony scooped up a spoonful and put it in his mouth.
He froze.
The texture of the rice was cooked to perfection.
The egg was rich without being greasy, and a subtle hint of sweetness lingered beneath the savory saltiness.
This taste…
His father’s private Chinese chef had made something similar before, but it was nowhere near as breathtaking.
“How is it?” Pepper asked.
Tony didn’t answer; he just scooped up another large spoonful.
The second dish was Kung Pao Chicken.
The chicken was tender and juicy, the peanuts were crisp, and an explosive harmony of spicy, numbing, sweet, and sour flavors danced across the palate.
The third dish was Cabbage in Clear Broth.
The soup was crystal clear, the cabbage opened like a blooming lotus, and its freshness made Tony raise his eyebrows in delight.
Twenty minutes later, Tony set down his chopsticks.
The plates before him were completely empty.
“Vance.” He waved.
Shaun emerged from the kitchen.
“Is running a shop in a dump like this some kind of performance art for you?” Tony asked bluntly.
“With your skills, you could be an executive chef at any high-end restaurant and pull in at least two million a year.”
Shaun wiped his hands.
“I prefer the quiet here.”
Tony stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly chuckled.
“Fine.
When I get back from Afghanistan, I’m booking my lunches here for the next week.
Three dishes every day, no repeats.
Can you do that?”
“I can,” Shaun replied.
“I hope you return on schedule.”
The words were spoken calmly, but Pepper’s sharp intuition picked up a strange undertone.
She looked at Shaun, but he had already lowered his head to clear the table.
Pepper’s gaze fell upon the last page of the menu.
“Huh?
What’s this?” She turned the page over.
“‘Devil Fruit Illustrated Guide’?”
Tony leaned over to take a look.
The colorful page was printed with illustrations of various bizarrely shaped fruits, accompanied by peculiar names:
Rumble-Rumble Fruit, Mag-Mag Fruit, Glint-Glint Fruit…
“Anime merchandise?” Tony chuckled.
“Vance, you’re pretty young at heart.”
Shaun paused his movements.
“Mr.
Stark, if there were an item that could grant supernatural abilities when eaten, would you be interested in learning about it?”
Tony leaned back against his chair with an amused expression.
“Such as?”
“Such as turning into fire, lightning, or diamond.” Shaun paused.
“Or…
gaining a second life.”
“Hahaha!” Tony burst into laughter.
“Nice story!
How much?
Five hundred?
A thousand?
I’ll buy one as a souvenir.”
Shaun said evenly, “Ten million dollars apiece.”
The laughter stopped abruptly.
Tony’s smile froze, and he slowly leaned forward.
“How much did you say?”
“Ten million dollars,” Shaun repeated.
“Non-negotiable.”
Pepper gasped.
“Mr.
Vance, this isn’t funny!”
“I’m not joking.” Shaun looked straight at Tony.
“Because it is worth every penny of that price.
But since we’ve had a pleasant conversation today, I can recommend the one with the best value—the Revive-Revive Fruit.”
Tony narrowed his eyes.
“Revive?
Sounds ominous.”
“It grants the consumer the possibility of immortality,” Shaun said.
“A true rebirth after death.”
A brief silence descended upon the restaurant.
Tony suddenly laughed—the kind of laugh born of genuine intrigue.
“Ten million…
I spent more than that on drinks at my party last night.” He turned to Pepper.
“Write it down.
We’re buying one ‘Revive-Revive Fruit.’ I want to see what kind of taste is worth ten million dollars.”
“Tony!” Pepper grabbed his arm.
“This is completely absurd!”
“Think of it as an investment.” Tony had already pulled out his checkbook, signing his name with a swift flourish.
“Ten million to buy a good story isn’t expensive.”
Shaun took the check, glanced at it, and nodded.
“Please wait a moment.”
He walked into the back kitchen and returned a few minutes later holding a rustic wooden box.
Opening the box revealed an orange-gold fruit covered in spiral patterns.
It was about the size of a cantaloupe, with four stubby protrusions at the bottom.
Tony leaned in closer.
“Looks like a mutated papaya.”
“Would you like me to slice it for you?” Shaun asked.
“Taking a direct bite might be a bit…
challenging.”
“Of course.
I’m not a barbarian.”
Shaun carried the fruit back into the kitchen.
Rhythmic chopping sounds echoed from within.
When he emerged again, the fruit had been cut into eight neat wedges arranged on a white porcelain platter, flanked by two silver forks.
Tony picked the largest piece, speared it with a fork, examined it under the light, and popped it into his mouth.
Within half a second, his expression cycled through curiosity, utter shock, and violent contortion.
“Ugh—!”
Tony forced himself to swallow it, then grabbed his water glass and chugged a massive gulp.
“That taste…
It’s like rotten onions mixed with expired canned herring!
No, it’s worse than that!”
Curious, Pepper speared a tiny piece and took a cautious nibble.
“Ptooey!” She spat it out immediately.
“Tony, that’s practically…”
“Like eating shit?” Tony roared with laughter.
“Is this the most wasted ten million dollars I’ve ever spent?
Vance, you win.
You successfully made me experience what shit tastes like.”
Shaun remained completely composed.
“The taste is indeed terrible, but the power is genuine.”
Tony wiped away the tears brought on by laughter.
“So Pepper and I are immortal now?”
“Only the first person to consume the fruit gains its power,” Shaun explained.
“And the ability of the Revive-Revive Fruit…
only manifests after death.”
Tony went still.
Then he erupted into even louder laughter, slapping the table.
“After death?
Then how am I supposed to know if it’s real?
Brilliant!
Vance, you’re a true business prodigy!
Selling a ten-million-dollar product that can only be verified after you die!”
Shaun waited for the laughter to die down before adding, “The Devil Fruit chooses the one who needs it, Mr.
Stark.
Perhaps one day, you’ll be grateful for today’s meal.”
Just then, the restaurant door pushed open, and Happy Hogan stuck his head in.
“Boss, the airport is calling.
The plane is ready.”
Tony stood up, pulled several hundred-dollar bills from his wallet, and tossed them on the table.
He walked over to Shaun and patted him on the shoulder.
“When I get back, if I still remember this ‘shit-flavored investment,’ maybe I’ll come ask for a refund.” He put his sunglasses back on.
“By the way, what was your name again?”
“Shaun Vance.”
“Shaun Vance,” Tony repeated.
“I’ll remember that.”
He turned and headed for the door.
Pepper followed, casting a complicated backward glance at Shaun.
The glass door shut, and the bell chimed once more.
Shaun walked to the window and watched the silver sports car pull away from the alley.
He said softly, “May you return as Iron Man.”
He turned around, hung up the “Closed” sign, and pulled down the metal shutter.
At that exact moment…
[Ding!]
A cold, mechanical voice sounded in his mind.
[First Devil Fruit sold.
Novice quest complete!]
[Unlocked: Devil Fruit Ability Synchronization Progress System!]
[Current synchronization target: Tony Stark.]
[Revive-Revive Fruit synchronization rate: 0.01%.]
[Base reward for selling Devil Fruit: Complete training method for “Iron Body,” one of the Six Powers.]
Shaun closed his eyes.
He could feel a faint, cool sensation stir within his body—very subtle, but undeniably real.
At the same time, a complete set of training techniques flooded his mind.
Special breathing rhythms, muscle exertion mechanics, impact conditioning methods…
Iron Body.
In the One Piece world, this was one of the foundational prerequisites for Armament Haki.
Shaun walked out into the restaurant’s backyard.
The moonlight spilled across the concrete floor in a pale, tranquil sheen.
Following the methods etched into his memory, he placed his feet shoulder-width apart, bent his knees slightly, and adjusted his breathing.
Inhale—three seconds.
Hold—two seconds.
Exhale—four seconds.
Simultaneously, his muscles began to contract and relax rhythmically in a precise pattern.
Ten minutes later, Shaun was drenched in sweat.
Yet he smiled.
Because when he struck his forearm with the palm of his hand, what sounded was no longer the dull thud of flesh, but a solid “thump” akin to knocking on hard wood.
Though still faint, and though it lasted for less than a second…
It was indeed the nascent form of Iron Body.
Shaun looked up at the glittering lights atop Stark Tower in the night sky.
“Marvel world…” he murmured softly.
“Are you ready for a few ‘surprises’?”