Chapter 54: Chapter Fifty-Three: Race Against Death

His condition is dire. Aside from the infection risk caused by the chaotic wiring he implanted in his own body, he is also elderly, his bodily recovery far weaker than a young person’s, and severe complications are likely even if he survives infection and inflammation—his vital functions have already been severely damaged. I suggest you ask him first if he has any last wishes…

Stark slammed his fist on the table, the loud crash startling Strange. The notoriously sharp-tongued doctor said: “You’d better make sure the fee you pay me is worth your temper.”

“I’m certain your courage matches my strength,” Shi Le said to Strange.

Stark stared at Obadiah lying on the operating table, his pupils already beginning to dilate. An extreme emotion enveloped Stark—he couldn’t understand why Obadiah had done this.

“I always wanted to prove to Howard that my biotech path wasn’t worthless. He could grant immense power—even to bodies long decayed—allowing them to perfectly control exoskeletons…”

“But you’re about to die!” Stark shouted angrily. “What could possibly matter more than life?!”

“Howard died before me…”

Stark fell silent. Then he heard Obadiah sigh: “He deserved to die early… but it’s a pity he died so early…”

A complex emotion rose in Stark’s chest. He knew Obadiah and Howard’s relationship was not the flawless partnership most imagined.

When you walk beside a genius, few escape envy. Perhaps Obadiah once dreamed of proving he could succeed without Howard.

But now that Howard was truly gone, he didn’t know who he was supposed to prove it to.

Obadiah was old. Perhaps he knew that if he didn’t act now, he’d never get another chance.

Someone among the Starks had to understand he was right. If old Stark wouldn’t, then young Stark would.

“I have to save him!” Stark lunged to another lab table, frantically rifling through files. He had no time to think about Obadiah stealing his core—Obadiah had been his only real family for years, and now he was dying. Stark forgot everything else.

“A cardiac stent! We need to implant a stent!”

Strange shook his head. “You have zero medical knowledge. His heart is failing—stents won’t fix this.”

“Then install more!”

“Unless you can build him a new mechanical heart, his current one can’t pump blood at all. He’ll die of cardiac arrest in under three hours.”

“Are you just a doctor who only spouts cold comfort?!” Stark roared. Strange was angrier. “You rich bastard wasted my entire afternoon with one sentence! I’m just telling the truth! He’s beyond saving! Don’t treat doctors like gods—you’ve punched seven holes in your own heart. Even God can’t save you!”

Shi Le clapped Strange on the shoulder. “Can’t you see the situation? This billionaire, reduced to nothing but money, will pay any price to save his uncle. Give him a plan—name your fee.”

Strange rubbed his temples. “We’re both doctors. Do you think I don’t want this money? If medical means could save him, no one in this world would die.”

“What did you just say?!” Stark suddenly turned.

Strange froze. “What did I say?”

“The mechanical heart! Build him a new heart!”

Shi Le checked his watch. “You have three hours.”

He glanced again at Obadiah.

“That’s optimistic. I fear if you exceed two hours, even a new heart won’t help—his entire body will necrotize from ischemia.”

Stark said nothing. He grew suddenly still, as if his rage had vanished. His mind, cursed with knowledge, fired every processing thread at once.

“This is absurd. You want to replace a living man’s heart with a machine? What about rejection?”

Stark turned and punched him straight in the face. Shi Le dragged him out of the lab. Strange rubbed his nose. “Damn rich people…”

“Stop complaining. Think about the seven-figure fee he’ll pay you. Doesn’t that cheer you up?”

“He’ll really pay that much?”

“He’s Stark. Look beneath your feet—each tile here might be your monthly salary.”

Strange, unusually, said nothing. The impending fortune hadn’t lifted his mood.

Suddenly, Stark burst out: “I’ve got an idea! Yes—I’ve got it! The Arc Reactor—the prototype…”

“I need an assistant! Come quickly!”

Strange sat still. Shi Le stood. “I’ll do it. Hopefully not another lightbulb incident.”

Inside the lab, chaos reigned. Shi Le stepped over scattered papers and tools. Stark worked furiously at a lab bench lined with complex instruments. “The prototype’s structure isn’t just useful for energy—it’s perfectly suited to the human body. As for rejection…”

Stark’s hands froze. He braced himself on the table, lowered his head, and whispered: “I nearly died from rejection too. Maybe this is karma.”

“Stop with your fatalism,” Shi Le said, glancing at Obadiah.

Obadiah still had awareness, but severe ischemia had robbed him of speech. He didn’t look at Stark—only stared fixedly at the operating table.

Perhaps young Obadiah had once stood like this, watching Howard feverishly tinker at the bench, working all night, then over breakfast, dreaming how their inventions would change the world.

Back then, Howard was full of passion, ambition, an unmatched genius. Obadiah was his shadow—Howard was born to reshape the world; Obadiah only wanted to use his talent to live well.

Obadiah felt his body grow warm. A heat surged from his heart into his limbs. In a haze, countless images flickered before his eyes.

Howard died too soon—but Obadiah was grateful he died early. It left him with a beautiful friendship to remember—the most glorious, passionate years of his life.

A colossal force rose under his hands, until it ruled the world.

Thank God Howard died early—this friendship never withered in the dull grind of life. It remained pristine, even now, at death’s door, utterly without regret.

“Hurry,” Shi Le said, watching Obadiah. “Our estimate was off. You have only an hour and a half left—he’s lost consciousness.”

Stark spun around, panicked. “No!! Don’t! Wait—wait… don’t do this—how could he…”

“Like you once were—will to live is vital. Once it’s gone, the body decays faster than you can imagine.”

Stark gripped the part in his hand, silent. He turned back to his work.

Shi Le asked the symbiote internally: “Can’t you reassemble his heart?”

“No. His heart is missing something. It needs the symbiote to sustain it. Without me, he dies.”

Shi Le recalled—yes, in the comics, old Eddie relied entirely on Venom to transform his cells into part of his body. Without Venom, he died too.

“Parts can be combined,” the symbiote added.

Shi Le told Stark: “You can fabricate the parts. I’ll use reconstruction to fuse them with flesh—no sutures or fixation needed.”

Stark pointed with pen and blueprint. “The Arc Reactor’s structure can be directly adapted to the heart. See here—we replace the entire left ventricle, reinforce the myocardium, install an artificial pump here…”

Shi Le called Strange in. Strange stared at the blueprint. “Theoretically, it’s possible. But I advise against it. Combining human tissue with metal carries extreme risk—this is a medical barrier no one has broken. And you’re not a doctor. Even if you revive him now, maintenance, metal fatigue, long-term degradation—all unsolved problems…”

Shi Le said: “Obadiah clearly researched bio-mechanics. He must have useful data. JARVIS, can you locate where he conducted his research?”

JARVIS emitted a buzz. “Calculating… locating… location confirmed. The old Stark Industries site—the former Stark Automotive Group.”

“Storage device detected… data not uploaded. Please wait—initiating physical decryption…”

Minutes later, a mech flew in, carrying a heavy computer. Stark pulled out a USB drive and plugged it in. JARVIS spoke: “Data encrypted… decrypting… decryption complete… all data uploaded.”

Stark turned to his main terminal. The moment the screen lit up, he froze.

It was packed with files and schematics—Shi Le couldn’t understand a word. After a moment, Stark stepped back two paces. “Maybe… he was right. Maybe he was right…”

“He found another path—completely different from mechanical armor…”

“You’re out of time,” Shi Le said.

“No—I only need half an hour. No—twenty minutes. These files are ready. JARVIS, run simulations immediately. Start building this model…”

An hour later, Stark, Shi Le, and Strange stumbled out of the lab, exhausted. Strange’s hands were soaked in blood. “How is this even possible? You built a heart from scrap metal—and made it beat? God…”

Shi Le wasn’t much better. Replacing a heart was brutal work—his chest was drenched in blood.

Stark leaned against the wall, slowly sinking down. “Am I really just like my father? Blindly arrogant, stubborn…”

“No…”

Stark looked up at Shi Le.

“You’re worse than your father.”