Chapter 228

At dawn, the first ray of New York sunlight slipped through the curtain gap; Stark shifted his arm, covering his eyes with it as if resisting the light. Pepper blinked sleepily, then turned her head dazedly toward the clock on the wall—and suddenly jolted awake.

"Nine o'clock? Damn it! I have a meeting!"

Pepper sat up, grabbing her hair; Stark stirred at her movement but rolled over groggily, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Don't rush… baby, we can—uh—sleep a little longer."

Pepper yanked his arm away and sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her hair back. She turned to Stark. "You lazy, useless lump! I'm not one of those models who Peini on your yacht. Half the orders signed at the expo still aren't finalized…"

Pepper pressed her palm to her forehead. Stark finally stirred a little, lying there staring at the ceiling, blinking a few times. "... hat meeting? What orders?"

Pepper glanced back at him, as if questioning her own sanity. "How did I ever believe your nonsense last night? God…"

"Don't be like that…" Stark mumbled, still half-asleep. He rolled over and reached for her waist.

"I remember you were moved last night. We'd never talked like that before—it was so good…"

Seeing Stark's trembling eyelashes, Pepper sighed, turned back, and glanced at the sunlight streaming through the window. The drowsiness from being woken hadn't fully faded; her vision blurred, and the morning light mingled with the memory of sunset. The conversation from last night echoed again in her mind.

After the negotiations ended, Stark's emotions were complicated. The military had bowed to him. Hammer Industries had paid a price. Yin Fan's revenge had utterly failed. Logically, he should have been happy—but he wasn't.

He felt an emptiness in his chest, a hard-to-name sense of loss surrounding him—until he saw Pepper, and then he understood where the feeling came from.

Stark wasn't the type to voice longing, but he had to admit: when that emptiness vanished upon seeing Pepper, he realized he missed her.

Pepper entered the room to find Stark standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. It was already deep night. New York's stars weren't as bright as imagined; after sunset, fog had obscured the moon and starlight, turning the sky into a heavy black curtain.

The room held only faint light—not enough to clearly illuminate anything. Stark stood before the glass, glowing with a cold, dim sheen, and turned to look at Pepper.

Pepper found it strange: Stark's eyes were always slightly damp, glowing faintly. Even now, with no light source, she could clearly read his emotions in them.

Whether it was this emotion called longing that lit his eyes—or whether the sun within his eyelids glowed on its own—whenever Pepper was gazed upon by him, she found it impossible to refuse.

Pepper walked to his side and looked into his eyes. In the past, at moments like this, Stark always felt like a toddler learning to speak—his mouth full of words, yet unable to utter a single one.

But today, his language system seemed to have just powered on. He said to Pepper: "Do you know when I was happiest today?"

Pepper had endured too many of Stark's random questions. She knew he often didn't need an answer—just a listener. So she thought briefly and replied: "I suppose it was when you activated the defense system and saw Hammer's shocked expression?"

"When you decided to Gaizao the building, I didn't agree—it was too risky. But now, it's clear this choice was right. Without showing enough strength, trouble would never end."

"I'm not here to discuss that."

Pepper looked up at Stark. His expression had grown intensely focused. Stark said: "My happiest moment was seeing Peter and his girlfriend touring the expo."

"They carried backpacks, stopped before every exhibit, looked amazed, listened carefully to the guides, whispered quietly, avoided crowds…"

"I saw them too. Youth is wonderful, isn't it?" Pepper smiled.

"I felt happy because…" Stark looked at Pepper. "I thought—if only we could do that too."

"I'd go to a prearranged spot to wait for you. Then we'd join the crowd, enter the exhibition hall together, and feel wonder and joy at every new thing we saw…"

*The Green Gourd Immortal*

Pepper shook her head and sighed. "You'd be disappointed. That girl Gwen is fascinated by machinery—she talks about them even more knowledgeably than Peter."

"But I don't understand any of this, and I'm not interested. If you want someone who'll spend all day with you at an industrial expo, wide-eyed from start to finish—it won't be me."

"You know," Stark suddenly changed the subject, "a few days ago, I had a dream. A very real one. You can treat it as a true story…"

Pepper watched him as his hoarse voice echoed through the room:

"One day in the future, after enduring countless disasters, Stark Industries went bankrupt."

"I woke from a chaotic nightmare to find I had lost everything."

"I wandered the streets, starving and freezing, surviving only on food from relief stations."

"I was exhausted, humiliated. I had to crawl like a beggar, searching for a whole cardboard box—or still-warm oil drums—to keep warm…"

Pepper stared at Stark, seeing a flicker of fear in his brow. She touched his face. "I can't imagine if this ever really happened…"

Then she suddenly realized: "... ut this can't happen. You have so many friends. How could they let you sink to this?"

"What if they're all dead?"

Pepper shook her head. "No matter the reason—if they're all dead, you wouldn't be alive. You'd always rush to protect them."

"No matter how terrible the disaster, you'd always be the first to charge forward."

Pepper stroked Stark's face, gazing intently into his eyes. "Sometimes I don't want you to do this. But if you survived by hiding, you wouldn't be Stark."

Stark turned his head away, smiling helplessly. "You're making it impossible for me to finish this story."

"Then don't. It's just a dream. No need to worry over nothing."

"A dream?" Stark murmured. "Maybe…"

"But this story has a crucial ending. Don't you want to hear it?" Under Stark's expectant gaze, Pepper couldn't refuse. "What ending?"

Stark opened his mouth, then fell back into that speechless state. After a long pause, he said: "Simply put… when I thought I was dying, the first person I thought of was you."

Perhaps sensing how abrupt that sounded, Stark added: "I dreamed I was about to die. Before I passed, I wondered where you were. Then I woke up—realizing it was just a dream."

"Do you know why I realized it was a dream?"

Stark extended a hand, paused midair, then covered the hand Pepper had placed on his cheek. "Because you'd never leave me. Right?"

Pepper stared at him, then suddenly laughed. "You went through all this just to say that?"

"I know I'm shameless. I gave you no guarantee, yet I asked for this answer first. But you've known me since day one…" Stark smiled too. "I'm just that shameless."

"Then if you go bankrupt, you deserve it. If you can't keep paying me this salary, I'll walk out the door."

Stark pulled Pepper's arm closer, stepping nearer. "Once, a man claiming to read minds told me he'd reveal an answer at the right time."

"What answer?"

"... o you truly love me?"

Pepper was about to say no such thing as mind-reading existed—then she froze, staring at Stark in shock.

Those brown eyes were like thick honey. Pepper felt like a bee entranced, dizzy and disoriented.

Outside Stark Tower's glass facade, a gray mist drifted around the building's corner. Spider-Man stuck a web-line to the eave, hanging upside down, watching the scene inside. He turned to the mist. "I don't know what you are, but spying is wrong…"

The gray mist suddenly formed an arrow, pointing toward Stark and Pepper. Spider-Man turned back—and saw, behind the faintly glowing glass, the two kissing.

When the kiss ended, Stark let go of Pepper. Before he could speak further, his peripheral vision caught the gray mist slowly forming into a symbol—a checkmark.

Recalling last night's scene, Stark lay in bed, covering his eyes, and laughed aloud.

Pepper, changing clothes, turned around angrily. "Are you happy I'm late? What are you laughing at?"

"I'm not." Stark struggled to sit up, ruffling his messy hair. "I'm your boss. I can give you a day off. We—"

"Don't say that nonsense. What about the pile of paperwork? The meetings? The company?"

"It's fine. I'll take your place for a day. I'll handle it."

"Yes," Pepper said coldly. "Then I'll spend the next three months working twice as long to fix the damage you caused in one day."

Stark changed clothes in a flash. Pepper had never seen him move so swiftly. He pulled on his coat, slipped on his sunglasses, and vanished out the door. Before leaving, he said: "I'll prove to you there's nothing Stark can't handle."

An hour later, the Sanctum Sanctorum received an unexpected call. Strange took the phone with one hand, the other on his hip, sighing. "We're the Cosmic Hotline. Can't you call my private line?"

"Get me some help, buddy. Damn it, I messed up—this contract looks like last year's, but I already signed it…"

Strange heard Stark's voice cracking: "You help all kinds of weird people. Fixing this shouldn't be hard. Come quick—or Pepper will kill me!"

"We're the Sanctum Sanctorum. We handle cosmic demon-related tasks…"

"I'm a cosmic demon!! Come now!!"

"Stark Industries' problems? You need professional advisors. We're a bunch of frauds—uh, financial staff."

"That's exactly who I need!"

"Then why not go to Wall Street?"

"Aren't you on Wall Street?!?!" Stark roared.

Half an hour later, Strange and slumped Stark stood outside Arkham Asylum. Xieler blocked the entrance. "Admission fee first."

"And pay for yesterday's answer."

"But you told me yourself!" Stark glared at Xieler.

Xieler smiled. "What gave you the impression I wouldn't force a sale?"

"Unscrupulous quack!"

"Let me say it again—"

————Extra Notes————

Not sure what to say—reminding you about the double moon ticket at month's end!

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