Extra Chapter-
After accumulating over 10 billion dollars through online channels, the Great Sage had continued to rake in additional funds from various sources. These were steadily funneled into the acquisition of Stark Industries' stocks.
Currently, 17% of the company's shares had been consolidated—2% more than Pepper's initial estimate.
Sometimes, honesty could be the best strategy.
After a quick assessment, Lemu decided this wasn't something that had to be completely hidden. A partial confession while keeping certain details under wraps seemed like the safest approach.
He had been living here for six months now—long enough to build at least a baseline of trust. Not to mention, he had just saved Stark's life earlier.
When Stark heard that Lemu was the one behind it all, his mind filled with question marks. He stared at the man across from him, sizing him up suspiciously.
"Wait… what? You? Stocks? You're buying up my company's shares?"
"What the fucking fuck?!"
Stark's bewildered expression made Lemu shrug innocently.
"Come on, it's just the internet. Super easy. Making money online is child's play—patents, short-term stock trading, cryptocurrencies, you name it. The cash flows in fast."
Lemu leaned back and added confidently, "And I reinvested all of it into Stark Industries because I believe in you—and your company."
His words were half-truths, carefully omitting the less-than-legal methods he had employed while exaggerating the legitimacy of his earnings.
Tilting his head slightly, Lemu attempted to soften the mood with a playful tone.
"Look, I just got to Earth. I started out with nothing. Of course, I needed a little bit of wealth to settle down, right? Don't worry—it's all legitimate."
Stark's head throbbed as if someone had taken a hammer to it. He had always known that Lemu Echeverria wasn't exactly a law-abiding citizen, but he never expected him to pull something this big behind his back.
Legitimate? My ass.
Sure, Stark Industries is struggling right now, but 15% of its shares don't just fall into someone's lap that easily!
"Tell me," Stark said, glaring at him. "What legitimate method lets you pull together 10 to 20 billion dollars in just a few months? Look at my face—does it say 'idiot' to you?"
"…A little."
"…"
In the end, Lemu managed to slip past Stark's suspicions—barely.
After selectively showing Stark some of his financial records, he successfully convinced him to let the matter slide.
Over the past six months, the Great Sage had amassed his fortune through technology monetization, stock market operations, and other loosely legitimate channels—the kind of income that could stand up to scrutiny.
To make his finances even more convincing, he padded the numbers with clever accounting tricks, inflating his assets to present a total worth of several billion dollars.
After all, if someone could prove they had the skills to make a million, no one would question how they ended up with two million.
Seeing the documents, Stark finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The last thing he wanted was for the alien he'd spent the past six months with to go down a path of crime or—worse—turn against humanity altogether.
Through their time together, Stark felt he'd gained a decent grasp of Lemu's character—at least enough to make an educated guess.
Sure, the guy had a morally flexible streak, but he didn't show any signs of conquering Earth or wiping out humanity.
If anything, Lemu came across as a regular alien teenager—albeit one with insane abilities. And considering how easily he could cause chaos if he wanted to, his restraint was oddly reassuring.
While Lemu's attitude was just as unserious as Stark's, his worldview seemed surprisingly normal. He even had a weirdly positive fascination with human culture, making him more relatable than expected.
For now, Stark decided, this alien was relatively harmless.
But there was something else—something far more urgent that needed addressing.
The Mark II's speed and acceleration were becoming a serious hazard.
Its sheer power output created massive G-forces during high-speed maneuvers, putting extreme strain on the body.
Flying at Mach 2 wasn't just dangerous—it was potentially lethal.
Just earlier, Stark had crashed through two floors and nearly died after landing in the garage. If he ever slammed into something at supersonic speeds—or worse, got hit by a guided missile—it wouldn't matter if the armor held up.
The man inside would be reduced to pulp.
It was like shaking tofu inside a sealed jar—no matter how tough the container, the contents wouldn't survive the impact.
When Stark brought this up, Lemu finally took the issue seriously.
After all, slimes had near-absolute immunity to blunt-force trauma, so pressure damage had never been a concern for him.
But considering Stark was just a fragile human, Lemu began sketching out an idea.
Opening a 3D projection, he quickly scribbled diagrams and formulas, explaining as he went.
"I've got an idea. Take a look at this."
He pointed at the projection, highlighting a rough schematic.
"What if we designed the suit to generate an inertial force field inside the armor? Something that counteracts external forces by applying an equal and opposite force on the body."
"In simple terms," Lemu continued, "it would simulate zero-gravity conditions for the user. That way, no matter how much pressure the armor takes, the wearer wouldn't feel a thing—no deformation, no injuries."
He pointed to another section of the diagram.
"The key is to redirect the stress and pressure onto the force-field generator. As long as the armor stays intact and the system runs properly, the person inside will be completely protected."
Lemu leaned back confidently.
"Our tech should be able to pull this off."
Volume forces—such as gravity, inertia, and electromagnetic forces—act uniformly across every particle within a given space. Unlike contact forces, they influence entire regions without direct interaction.
For example, a person in free fall within a uniform gravitational field wouldn't be crushed by gravity. Since the forces acting on their body are evenly distributed, no deformation occurs.
Now imagine a 10-ton steel plate pressing down on you with an acceleration of 1G—you'd immediately feel its crushing weight.
Power stonezzz…