Poaching Talent Right in Front of Me

Old Wang pressed a hand to his forehead, completely speechless.

Tony, Tony… that whole string of numbers was practically something I’d already grown tired of playing with back in middle school in my previous life. Did you have to brag in such a cheap way?

If he hadn’t known that Tony was proud, arrogant, showy, and self-centered, Old Wang would have thought he was chatting with a high school student under eighteen.

You were forty already, okay, Mr. Tony "Egomaniac" Stark!

What an embarrassment.

Of course, those numbers were still utterly shocking to scientists who understood them, such as Fitz.

Tony was undoubtedly the idol of every physicist and mechanical engineering expert, and Fitz was no exception.

Meeting his idol, the already shy Fitz nearly lost the ability to speak. He stammered, "M-Mr. Stark… um, it’s an honor… to meet you!"

He nervously rubbed his hands together before extending his left hand.

Then he switched to his right.

"Former S.H.I.E.L.D. Technology Department researcher, current director of Darkhold Laboratory."

Old Wang gave a simple introduction in a calm tone. "He’s in charge of the brain mapping and memory uploading I told you about."

"Hm?"

Tony had originally intended to brush him off. There were very few scientists who caught his eye, and nearly all of them were dead.

But upon hearing Old Wang’s words, he immediately took it seriously and reservedly extended his right hand. "Not a bad research direction. Shall we go take a look?"

Praised by his idol, Fitz nearly forgot how to breathe. He hurriedly rubbed his chest and looked toward Old Wang.

That look in his eyes was full of "longing."

"I brought him here for exactly that." Old Wang smiled and made a welcoming gesture.

"Mr. Stark, this way, please!" Fitz quickly led the way.

"You all go get busy."

Old Wang waved his hand. The others dispersed, while only Simmons, Lucy, and a group of scientists followed.

Simmons still greatly admired Tony.

Though they both held two doctoral degrees, and not even in the same fields, Simmons understood perfectly well:

He simply had no interest in collecting more.

To him, those things were scraps of paper, not even worth as much as the greaseproof paper used to wrap a hamburger.

And everyone knew that Mr. Stark’s expertise extended far beyond physics and engineering. Like Banner, he was a true all-round genius.

The group soon arrived at The Laboratory, where Fitz showed Tony all their results.

Images and text continuously appeared on the screen as Fitz demonstrated and patiently explained.

However, Tony was clearly impatient. He could not help calling out, "No need to be so detailed. Two times speed… no, four times!"

Speed it up?

Fitz and Simmons exchanged looks, both sucking in a breath.

They knew Mr. Stark was incredible, but they had not known he was this incredible!

We’ve spent months researching this topic, with so much profound and complicated knowledge involved, and you understood it all after looking through it once?

Are you even going to let us live?

Fitz had no choice but to speed things up. He spoke less and less, spending most of the time demonstrating, until Tony eventually snatched the mouse away.

"You’re still using a mouse? Master Wang, your laboratory is too shabby. I’ll have someone send over a holographic setup tomorrow. A free gift."

Tony was still Tony, as self-centered as ever and utterly unconcerned with other people’s feelings.

For an ordinary person, that sort of personality would make it difficult to achieve anything—and get them beaten up—but Tony was different.

His talent and intellect were like the sun at noon, enough to blot out every shadow and every flaw.

He kept skimming through images and text, turning pages faster than he changed his expression.

In less than three hours, he had gone through several months’ worth of research materials from the entire laboratory and understood all of it.

Learning was far easier than conducting research, of course, but such speed was still astonishing—and humiliating.

By now, Fitz and the others no longer felt like saying, "Why was Zhuge Liang born if Lü Bu already existed?" They were not even qualified to make that comparison.

If Tony was Zhuge Liang, then they probably had only Lü Bu’s intelligence.

The entire laboratory fell utterly silent.

Only the rustle of pages remained.

Holding a pen and a sheet of paper, Tony worked through calculations and pondered alone.

The difficult part was an incredibly complex formula.

It reminded him of that night nine years ago, with fine wine and beautiful women.

Back then, while drunk, he had casually corrected a critically important Terminal Enzyme Repair Algorithm. Now, both his knowledge and intelligence surpassed what they had been then, yet there was no way he could solve this formula so quickly.

The difficulty was on an entirely different level.

The body’s self-repair based on the chemical encoding of one region of the brain simply could not compare to precise mapping of the entire cerebral cortex. If the former was elementary school, then the latter was high school.

Not to mention memory uploading was involved as well.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., cancel all my meetings, speeches, and whatever else tomorrow. Tell Pepper ‘Little Chili’ Potts I won’t be home for dinner tonight, or tomorrow night either… No, I didn’t find any models. No actresses, either!"

Tony made a call and ate a hamburger.

The laboratory lights remained on. Fitz, Simmons, and the others were not tired at all, while Old Wang naturally had no interest in staying any longer.

Skye had been venting for days, and Whitehall had long since ceased to look human. What she needed now was care and a warm embrace.

And, naturally, a comfortable bed.

Previously, only he could use True Qi to control the vibrations of every part of his body. Now Skye could do it too, and due to instinct at the genetic level, she was even better at it, saving Old Wang quite a bit of effort.

Nothing was said that night. There was only exercise.

The following evening.

Violent knocking jolted Old Wang awake.

"Boss, he solved it! Mr. Stark solved it!"

"God, he really is a genius, a genius as remarkable as Dr. Erskine!"

"He’s an angel with broken wings!"

"Mr. Stark should really restart the Super Soldier Program. He could definitely recreate Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum!"

"No, he definitely won’t. His iron armor is far stronger than the Super Soldier Serum!"

Fitz’s voice was like five hundred ducks squawking at once.

What angel? More like earwax.

Old Wang sighed helplessly and could only get out of bed.

"It was easier than I imagined."

At The Laboratory, Tony stood there with panda eyes, his head held high, wearing an expression that said, "This problem was too easy. I haven’t even started trying yet." "I’m tired. I’m going to sleep!"

But after taking only two steps, his legs went weak.

An awkward look flashed across his face before vanishing. Tony simply dropped face-first onto the table.

He fell asleep.

"Boss, Mr. Stark didn’t just solve it—he also designed the crucial equipment!"

Fitz came over holding a stack of sketches, practically quivering with excitement. "Mr. Stark is such a genius! Without him, it might have taken me two weeks to design the complete structural diagrams. But now, two days at most!"

"Oh, right! Mr. Stark said he could help manufacture the equipment. His home has the best laboratory, along with the best intelligent butler to assist him. He invited me to work at his house tomorrow!"

"Poaching talent right in front of me?" Old Wang froze, staring at Tony with a dark expression.

Was he tired of living?

"Uh, I definitely won’t go to Stark Industries. They don’t have nearly as many research projects as The Laboratory."

It took Fitz more than ten seconds to realize what he meant, and he hurriedly explained, "I’m going to his house to build the equipment with him. I’ll come back once we’re done. I’m very interested in the Framework and Quantum Brain you mentioned. Those are harder than brain mapping and memory uploading…"

"No need to explain. Go if you want to… no, go sleep first. All of you."

Glancing over the many panda-eyed scientists, Old Wang waved his chubby hand. Strands of True Qi entered their bodies and stimulated certain acupoints.

Everyone collapsed groggily, and snoring soon filled the room.

"Scientists, scientists… when they get busy, they really don’t care whether they live or die. Impressive, but not to be messed with…"

With a sigh, Old Wang got up and raised the air conditioner temperature by ten degrees.

Afghanistan, somewhere in the mountains.

After a long search and comparison process, the exploded Mark I was finally reassembled and displayed before all the terrorists.

Looking at the mighty, imposing armor, Zala seemed to see his ancestor Genghis Khan riding on horseback, whipping his steed onward.

That was the image he dreamed of becoming.

"As long as I have twenty of them, I can dominate Asia and restore my ancestor’s glory!"

He had placed enormous hopes on this suit of iron armor.

"Boss, Obadiah is dead. What do we do now? Who do we find to manufacture them? Who will supply our weapons?" one subordinate asked.

"There will be someone willing."

Zala looked in the direction of the United States. "For example… Justin Hammer!"

Thanks to "Jun Yue Wo Xing" for the 1,000 reward.