Chapter 1389: The Return of the Old Days (Part 5)

"An obvious fact is that the owner of this notebook—the person who has been narrating the whole thing in the first person—doesn't seem to have the culture and intelligence level to write such text."

Strange didn't care about the cold tea, but took a bottle of wine, two wine glasses, and an ice bucket from the shelf, changed some ice cubes, put the wine in, and looked at Stark, saying.

"How so?" Stark asked.

"Stop it, Tony. Since I've been open and honest with you, why do you still... Fine, I know. You're a typical scientist, not that interested in literature and art, at least not literature."

"But you can't deny I've read a lot of books."

"Mostly leaning toward theoretical knowledge in science, aren't they?"

Stark fell silent, not denying it. In fact, he had nothing to deny. He always leaned more toward technical books and rarely read works with strong narrative qualities. He liked to pry into the truth, not indulge in imagination.

In fact, the things recorded in this black notebook were already the longest story he had read in these years. He was surprised that he could finish such a long part in one breath. Perhaps it was also because of the little people Strange made that this was more intuitive.

"Forget it, I get a headache thinking about those literary descriptions," Stark waved his hand a bit rudely and said: "'Roughly,' 'generally speaking,' 'exquisite,' 'gorgeous,' 'sketchy,' 'simple'—these writers never want to give a thing a fixed value, they must be vague in description, calling it leaving room for imagination. This gives me no sense of security. I like precise things."

"It's not hard to imagine," Strange took the wine out of the ice bucket, poured a glass for himself and Stark, and said: "Then allow me to tell you that people's behavioral patterns can always be demonstrated through literary talent."

"If a person's writing is enthusiastic, then his heart must be as hot as fire. If a person's writing is indifferent, then perhaps he is as calm, rational, and objective as you."

"Although the owner of the notebook always narrates every event in an indifferent tone, his real reactions when encountering every event are contrary to it."

"Judging from his choices when facing various things, he is a rather reckless person, full of emotions, bold, and a bit rash. That kind of indifferent text with gloomy colors isn't something he could write."

"Have I said it before? You really should go take a psychology license exam."

"You've said it several times, unless you're very forgetful," Strange picked up the wine glass but didn't drink, instead touching the rim of the glass lightly with his lips, and said: "This means someone wants to tell us something through it."

"Or could it be that he is explaining something?"

Strange frowned, looked into Stark's eyes, and said: "You speak more and more tactfully, Tony. This isn't like you."

"If you're still dissatisfied with my attitude when I went to find you after my father's accident, then I can only say, Schiller is right, you're really petty."

"He actually has the nerve to call others petty," Stark curled his lips, quite dissatisfied, but he shook his head and said: "I mean literally. The story in this notebook is an explanation deliberately left for us, or it could be an explanation left for me."

"What does he need to explain to you?"

"Something that has already happened, which I discovered but haven't had time to investigate yet."

"What is that?"

"I kidnapped Knull, the God of Symbiotes, and hid him. I, Doom, and another friend, we played a coordination, Doom attracted the attention of others, and we directly dragged Klyntar away."

"I've heard of it," Strange nodded. If the Sorcerer Supreme had everything on Earth under control, then the Sanctum Sanctorum provided broader news channels.

The disappearance of a race's mother planet was not a big deal, but symbiotes were a rather typical race, and they had some fame in the universe. The disappearance of Klyntar even occupied a small space at the bottom of the front page of the famous interstellar newspaper "Ring Star Zone Weekly," and there were also three follow-up reports from interstellar traveler radio stations.

"You did this? Why did you do this?"

Strange felt a bit surprised. He didn't understand what the point was of grabbing a planet with that group of rotten mud, and Knull shouldn't have been that valuable.

"I want to understand one thing," Stark answered.

"What thing?"

"God."

Stark stood up, supporting the back of the armchair, paced in front of the bookshelf, and said: "I want to know what God is. No, not the words like trading objects that you are thinking of in your brain now. Do you know why I suddenly became interested in this?"

"Perhaps I told you before, I'm doing experiments related to the fusion of Vibranium and Uru steel materials. This is a very difficult thing, and it's the same for me. Every small breakthrough in material science might be a huge technological revolution, but it doesn't change the fact that it's difficult."

Stark frowned, looking much more steady than usual, but Strange had rarely heard the word "difficult" from Stark's mouth. But when he really said so, it meant that this matter was probably no longer just difficult, but as hard as ascending to heaven.

"Finding a material suitable for humans doesn't look like a scientific experiment, more like trying one's luck," Stark frankly admitted that material science was like trying one's luck: "A material might have all the properties you want, but it lacks one. A material might have one particularly prominent property, but the others are all garbage."

"Peter often mutters that this is a bit like crafting equipment in a game, but reality is much more difficult than a game. This isn't even something that can be found by thousands of exhaustive attempts; one can only hope for the arrival of the God of Luck."

"One day I was staring at the instrument in the lab, feeling a sense of despair. I had never felt so powerless," Stark stopped his steps, slowly closed his eyes, looked up and recalled the mood at that time, and said: "And then it was anger and resentment."

"Why couldn't it give me the result I wanted? Why did I do everything, but still couldn't control the result? Why would I be so helpless, what on earth made me so insignificant?"

Strange could clearly hear that Stark's tone at the end was already trembling, and the anger inside was about to flow out.

"It's this universe," Stark gave the answer. He finally acted like a crazy scientist, using a neurotic tone and said: "It's the constant rules in this damn universe."

"It makes 1+1=2, it makes ice melt into water, it makes the reagent change color, it makes plants yearn for sunlight..."

Strange felt his heart beating fast. He realized what crazy talk Stark was saying. That was a truth that even past Sorcerer Supremes dared not pry into.

"Why?"

Stark asked a soul-searching question, and then added: "Why can't I make 1+1=3?"

Strange opened his mouth, but his dry throat made him unable to say a word. After a few seconds of silence, he evaluated: "Don't be too greedy, Tony."

"We are all greedy. You showed me your greed, and I naturally showed you mine. Rather, magic is always greedy, while science hesitates."

"Do you really know what you're doing?" Strange swallowed.

"Of course I know," Stark nodded and said: "You might think I'm crazy, but I'm very clear-headed. I want to... change the constants."

When these words fell, Strange felt his head was hit by a big hammer, and his brain was full of "buzzing" sounds, because to mages, this could basically be interpreted as "I want to destroy the universe."

"This isn't impossible," Stark had already begun to expound his train of thought: "The reason you think it's impossible is that you ignored a key problem."

"What?"

"This world has gods."

Strange was stunned.

"Gods are, or claim to be, the embodiment of the rules of the universe. Then if the operation of the universe isn't to my liking, shouldn't they also take some responsibility?"

Strange swallowed again. Vocabulary was hard to describe the arrogance, greed, and viciousness of Stark's logic. If he had to find an adjective, this was really... too 'human'.

"Psychology and behavioral science taught me more than just guessing the motives behind others' psychology and behavior," Stark sat back in the chair with the wine glass, looked into Strange's eyes and said: "It also taught me not to blame myself. When things go wrong, look for reasons from others first, keep wisdom for yourself, and leave pain and entanglement to others."

"If the God of Luck refuses to descend into my lab, making human material science unable to develop, then I will dismember it and see if it can add the properties I want to the new materials in my instrument."

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Facing Stark's cold tone, Strange shivered. These mad scientists always had a terrifying uncanny valley effect when they entered a state, as if they were monsters who could dissect everything for experimental data.

Even the purely kind Spider-Man Peter would carry a cold look of seeing everyone as a lab rat when he just walked out of the biology lab, not to mention Tony Stark, who was already a bit neurotic.

And Stark indeed intended to dissect the universe. He even kidnapped a god. Thinking of this, Strange couldn't help but ask with some worry: "Is Knull okay?"

"He was okay when he was with me," Stark sighed softly. Strange heard the subtext in his words, so he frowned and asked: "So he isn't with you now?"

Stark's gaze fell on the black notebook beside him and said: "This is what I said, what the person who really wrote this story wants to explain to us."

Strange looked at him.

"About two weeks ago, Knull disappeared, along with his cage," Stark also looked at Strange and said: "He disappeared from the secret prison I prepared for him. Someone took him away."

"Someone rescued Knull from your hands?"

"I don't think that act can be called a 'rescue'. I think Knull's situation won't get better because of this, or it might be worse. Before coming to you, I went to check the situation at that secret location. The other party's methods were quite rough. Knull won't feel good."

"Then why do you think he would do this?"

Stark quickly recalled the scene he had seen before and looked at Strange's face.

"Maybe he wanted to eat Knull... In fact, he has already eaten a part of him."

Stark added in his heart.

"... Or all of him." ===== CHAPTER 1390 =====