"One obvious fact is, the owner of this notebook — the person who has been narrating everything in the first person, doesn't seem to have the cultural and intellectual level to write these words."
Strange didn't bother about the cold tea, but got a bottle of wine, two wine glasses, and an ice bucket from the shelf, created some ice cubes, put the wine in it, and spoke to Stark.
"How so?" Stark asked.
"Don't joke, Tony, given my sincerity with you, why should you... Oh well, I got it, you are a typical scientist, not so interested in literature and art, at least not in literature."
"But you can't deny that I've read a lot of books."
"Most of them are devoted to theoretical knowledge of science, aren't they?"
Stark fell silent; he couldn't deny it. In fact, there was nothing for him to deny. He always preferred technical books, rarely reading ones with a strong sense of story. He likes to probe the truth instead of indulging in imagination.
In fact, the things recorded in this black notebook have already become the longest story he has read over the years. He was surprised that he was able to finish such a long section in one breath. Perhaps Strange's little figurines made it more intuitive.
"Enough, I'm getting a headache just thinking about those literary descriptions." Stark gesticulated rudely and said, "'Roughly,' 'Generally speaking,' 'precise,' 'Magnificent,' 'sketchy,' 'simple' — these literary people never like to give a definitive value to anything, always equivocal in their descriptions, calling it leaving room for imagination, but this doesn't bring me any sense of security. I prefer precise matters."
"That's not hard to imagine." Strange took the wine out of the ice bucket, poured a glass for himself and Stark, and said, "So please allow me to tell you that one's traits can always be reflected through their literary talent."
"If a person's words are passionate, then his heart is definitely fervent. If a person's words are indifferent, then perhaps he is as calm, rational, and objective as you."
"Even though the owner of the notebook always uses an indifferent tone to narrate each incident, his real reactions when facing them are contrary."
"Based on his choices in dealing with various situations, he's more of a reckless person, passionate, courageous, and somewhat rash. Those indifferent texts with a gloomy tone are not something he could have written."
"Have I mentioned this before? You should consider getting a license in psychology."
"You've said that several times before, unless you're very forgetful." Strange lifted his glass but didn't drink it; instead, he softly touched the rim with his lips and said, "This implies that someone is trying to tell us something through it."
"Or maybe he's trying to explain something?"
Strange frowned, looking into Stark's eyes, he said, "You're becoming more and more diplomatic, Tony, this is unlike you."
"If you're still upset about my attitude when I came looking for you after my father's incident, then all I can say is, Shiller was right; you're very petty."
"He really has some nerve calling others petty." Stark sneered, sounding a tad disgruntled, but shook his head, saying, "I meant it literally, the story in this notebook was intentionally left as an explanation for us, possibly an explanation for me."
"What does he need to explain to you?"
"Something that has already happened, which I discovered but didn't have the time to investigate."
"What is that?"
"I kidnapped the God of Symbiotic Body, Nal, and hid him. I, Doom, and another friend, we setup a distraction; Doom drew the attention of others while we directly dragged away Klinter Star."
"I heard something about it." Strange nodded. If the Supreme Magician had control over every kind of situation on Earth, then the Holy Sanctuary provided even more extensive information channels.
The disappearance of a race's mother planet was neither a big nor a small matter, but the symbiont was a pretty notable race with some fame in cosmos. The disappearance of Klinter Star even occupied a small section on the front page of the renowned interstellar newspaper, Circumstellar Zone Weekly. It was also covered in a three-episode follow-up report by the Interstellar Traveler Radio.
"You did that? Why would you want that?"
Strange felt some shock; he didn't understand what was the point of fighting over a star with that bunch of mud. Nal should not be that valuable either.
"I want to understand something." Stark answered.
"What is it?"
"God."
Stark got up from his armchair, holding the wine glass, he paced before the bookshelf, saying, "I want to know what exactly 'God' is. No, not those terms like 'trading object' that you're thinking of right now. Do you know why I am suddenly interested in this?"
"Maybe I told you before, I've been experimenting with the fusion of Vibranium and Molten Steel. This is a challenge, even for me. Even a minor breakthrough in materials science could bring huge changes to technology, but that won't change the fact that it's difficult."
Stark furrowed his eyebrows, appearing even more composed than usual. Strange hardly heard the word "difficult" from Stark. But once he mentioned it, it probably meant that the problem was beyond difficult; it was nearly impossible.
"Finding a material suitable for the human race doesn't feel like scientific experimentation, it seems more like luck." Stark candidly admitted that material science was akin to trying one's luck: "One material might have all the properties you want, but is missing just one. One material might have an outstanding trait, but all others are worthless."
"Peter often mutters that this is a bit like crafting equipment in games. But in reality, it's far more challenging than in games. This isn't something that can be exhausted by thousands or tens of thousands of attempts, we can only hope for the arrival of the god of luck."
"One day, I was staring at the equipment in the laboratory, feeling a surge of despair, an overwhelming sense of powerlessness I'd never felt before." Stark paused, slowly closing his eyes as he recalled that moment and said: "And then there was anger and resentment."
"Why can't it give me the results I want? Why have I done everything, but still can't control the outcome? Why am I so helpless, what makes me so weak?"
Strange could clearly hear Stark's last words shaking uncontrollably, the anger in it was about to pour out.
"It's the universe." Stark provided the answer, finally, like a mad scientist, he said neurotically: "It's the constant rules within this fucking universe."
"It lets 1+1=2, it allows ice to melt into water, it makes the potions change colors, it makes plants yearn for the sun..."
Strange felt his heart pounding, he recognized the madness Stark was uttering, a truth that even the Supreme Magicians throughout history dared not peek at.
"Why?"
Stark posed a soulful question, then added, "Why can't I let 1+1=3?"
Strange opened his mouth, but his dry throat prevented him from saying a word. After a few seconds of silence, he responded: "Don't be too greedy, Tony."
"We're all greedy. You've shown me your greed, naturally, I'll show you mine," Stark responded. "It's more like magic has always been greedy, while science hesitates."
"Do you really know what you're doing?" Strange swallowed hard.
"Of course I do." Stark nodded and said: "You might think I'm crazy, but I'm very clear-headed. I want to...change constants."
As those words fell, Strange felt as if his head had been struck by a great hammer, his mind buzzing. To the mages, it basically translated to: "I want to destroy the universe."
"It's not impossible." Stark began to elaborate on his thinking: "The reason you think it's impossible is because you've overlooked a key issue."
"What?"
"This world has a god."
Strange was stunned.
"Gods are, or they claim to be, the embodiments of the rules of the universe, so if the operation of the universe is not to my liking, shouldn't they also bear some responsibility?"
Strange swallowed hard again, finding it difficult to describe Stark's arrogance, greed, and ferocity with words. If he had to find an adjective, this was indeed... very 'human-like'.
"Psychology and behavioral science have taught me, not just to guess at other people's motivations, but not to blame myself," Stark returned to his seat with his drink and said, looking into Strange's eyes. "Blame others first when things go wrong, save wisdom for yourself, and leave pain and entanglement to others."
"If the god of luck refuses to grace my lab, and human materials science doesn't progress, then I'll dissect it to see if it can add the properties I want to the new material in my device."
Faced with Stark's cold tone, Strange shuddered, these science freaks always had a horrifying uncanny valley effect when they got into their groove. It was as if they were alien monsters who would dissect everything for the sake of experimental data.
Even the purely good Spider-man Peter, would show a cold, indifferent gaze as if everyone was a lab rat when he first stepped out of the biological laboratory. Tony Stark, who had a bit of a neurotic streak, was even more so.
And Stark was indeed planning to dissect the universe. He even directly kidnapped a god. Thinking about this, Strange couldn't help but ask a little worried: "How is Nal doing?"
"He was fine when he was with me." Stark sighed softly. Strange caught his hidden meaning and frowned, "So he's not with you now?"
Stark's gaze landed on the black notebook beside him and said, "That's what I meant when I said the real author of this story wanted to explain something to us."
Strange looked at him.
"About two weeks ago, Nal disappeared, along with his cage," Stark said, still looking at Strange. "Vanished from the secret prison I had prepared for him. Someone took him away."
"Someone rescued Nal from you?"
"I don't think the word 'rescue' describes the action accurately. I suspect Nal's conditions have not improved, or perhaps are much worse. Before coming to you, I inspected the hidden location, the other party's methods were quite brutal, Nal wouldn't have been treated well."
"So why do you think they did that?"
Stark quickly recalled the scene he had seen earlier and looked at Strange's face to answer.
"Maybe he wanted to eat Nal…in fact, he already ate a part."
Stark added another sentence in his mind.
"...or perhaps all of it."