The night was as dark as ink.
A black Audi R8 glided silently into the aging streets of Queens like a lurking black panther, coming to a stop in front of the inconspicuous wooden door of the Divination Parlor.
Tony Stark stepped out of the car, surveyed the rundown shop, and turned back to say a word to Happy in the driver’s seat.
“Wait for me here.”
The madness and feverish excitement of the past few days had faded from his voice, replaced by a rare, settled focus.
*Click.*
The door to the Divination Parlor was gently pushed open.
No lights were on inside.
Only the moonlight filtering through the window outlined the silhouettes of tables, chairs, and shelves.
A figure sat quietly in a chair behind the counter with eyes closed, seemingly merging into the darkness.
Leon Hall silently counted the seconds, suppressing the anxiety born of waiting.
Twenty-four hours!
This insanely competitive genius had dragged out a task he could have finished far sooner for a full twenty-four hours!
If Leon didn’t advance soon, he was genuinely afraid he would lose control.
Sensing his visitor, Leon slowly opened his eyes.
“I knew you’d come, Stark,” his voice sounded in the quiet room, steady and clear.
“And not over the phone.”
Tony didn’t answer right away.
He walked straight to the counter, casting a critical eye over the surroundings, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.
He turned back toward the door and snapped his fingers at Happy in the car.
“Happy, bring in that bottle of Macallan and the glasses from the car.
It looks like the hygiene standards here don’t quite meet my requirements.”
A moment later, Happy entered carrying an exquisite leather case.
He pulled out a bottle of fine vintage whisky and two crystal-clear glasses, carefully placed them on the counter, then tactfully exited and shut the door behind him.
Watching this, Leon’s lips twitched despite himself.
Tony deftly poured half a glass for himself and Leon, the amber liquid glimmering under the moonlight.
*Clink.*
He slid one glass in front of Leon, then tossed a thin stack of reports onto the center of the table.
It was a list of damaged servers, detailing losses substantial enough to buy out the entire block.
“Tell me,” Tony picked up his glass without drinking, merely tracing his fingertips along the cold rim while his eyes shone astonishingly bright in the dark, “what kind of ‘theory’ did you base this damned thing on?”
There was no anger or interrogation in his tone—only a pure, unadulterated drive for inquiry belonging to a top scientist.
Leon quietly breathed a sigh of relief in his heart.
*Here it comes.
Exactly as expected.*
*This guy’s competitiveness and thirst for knowledge are even stronger than I thought.
Still, this is for the best.
Laying it all out at once is better than letting him stay suspicious.*
He raised his glass and took a small sip.
The spicy alcohol slid down his throat, spreading a touch of warmth.
“I thought you had already found the answer in your own way, Stark,” Leon said with a faint smile.
“My answer?” Tony raised an eyebrow as if a switch had been flipped, instantly slipping into “Tony Stark” showtime mode.
“That’s right, I did find it.” He set his glass down and gestured in the air, bringing up a miniature holographic projection.
“I tried acoustics, electromagnetism, even bio-neurological models—all failed.
Until I tried a different angle: quantum entanglement.”
He pointed at a complex model in the projection, brilliant sparks of intellect gleaming in his eyes.
“I succeeded using this theory.
But…”
Tony dismissed the projection, leaned forward slightly, and locked eyes with Leon.
“It’s just my ‘translation’—a forced explanation built on existing scientific frameworks.
It can replicate the results, but it can’t explain the source.”
“Now, I need to hear the author’s original theory.
Cut the mystical mumbo-jumbo and give it to me in terms I can actually understand.”
Leon listened quietly to his monologue and took another sip of whisky.
“Honestly, you’re remarkable—being able to express something so abstract through science.”
“But you’re like a scholar trying to parse oracle bone script using English grammar.
You might guess a few meanings from the shapes, but you’ll never comprehend its true ideographic logic.”
“Ideographic logic?” Tony caught the phrase.
“Yes.” Leon set his glass down and held up a finger.
“Beyond science, the world we inhabit has a deeper underlying operating system.
We call it ‘spirituality.'”
“‘Spirituality’?” Tony looked as if he were listening to a fairy tale.
“You can think of it as a form of cosmic background radiation—omnipresent, yet imperceptible to ordinary mortals.
Leon continued, “Every symbol in that ‘heavenly book’ of mine isn’t a mathematical or physical unit, but a vehicle for a ‘concept.’ Like ‘home,’ or ‘the way back.'”
“What I did was use occult methods to weave these ‘concepts’ together, causing them to generate a ‘resonance.’ This resonance stirs the ‘spirituality’ in a specific area, stimulating extraordinary creatures that are likewise affected by it.”
“It isn’t physical sonar.
It’s…
a mental ‘shout.'”
“It isn’t simple materialism; it’s semiotics and resonance theory.
But it follows coherent principles, making it part of science as well.”
The Divination Parlor fell into a long silence.
Tony didn’t argue or scoff.
He just sat quietly, his brain processing at an unprecedented speed as he tried to grasp this entirely new world view.
Spirituality, concepts, resonance, semiotics…
Each word sounded as ethereal as philosophical ramblings, yet together they strangely explained everything that had happened in his lab—why a purely physical simulation had failed, while his absurd quantum model had hit the mark by chance.
He hadn’t translated a divine oracle.
He had merely built a repeater that could barely mimic its pronunciation.
After a long while, Tony let out a deep breath, raised his glass, and downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.
He gave up.
He gave up trying to deconstruct Leon’s world with his own theories.
“Alright,” he looked at Leon, his gaze becoming deadly serious.
“I don’t care if you’re a devil or an angel, but I believe you can deliver results.”
Tony stood up, adjusted his collar, and extended a hand toward Leon.
“I’ve decided to upgrade my ‘angel investment’ in you into a formal, long-term cooperation agreement.”
“Starting today, you are Stark Industries’ sole Chief Advisor of Unknown Domains.”
Looking at the extended hand, Leon offered a calm smile.
He knew that from this moment on, he truly had the trust…
of the greatest genius on Earth.
He reached out and shook Tony’s hand.
“Pleasure doing business, Stark.”
This conversation, worth far more than a glass of whisky, laid the cornerstone for their future partnership.
Tony turned to leave, but as he reached the door, he suddenly stopped and looked back.
“One last question.”
“Before I head out, can I get a few samples of these ‘extraordinary materials’ you mentioned?”
In his eyes shone the unsuppressible mania and curiosity of a scientist confronting the unknown.