Several days later, Stark himself drove a trailer truck to Li Ming's home while wearing sunglasses.
Upon reaching the lakeside, Stark, seated in the driver's seat, rolled down the window and peered at Li Ming through the narrow gap of his sunglasses.
Li Ming was lounging with an oversized empty wine glass beside him, legs crossed, humming a tune while occasionally tossing peanuts into his mouth.
Not far in front of Li Ming, the disheveled Killian was dutifully trimming the lawn under the watchful eyes of 10 mummies wielding whips.
Stark, who had been staring at Killian, stepped out of the truck and walked over to Li Ming, saying, "I've brought the wood for your sailboat."
"I see," Li Ming lazily snapped his fingers, signaling Killian to pay attention before pointing at the truck. "Kid, hurry up and finish building my boat, or else—"
Killian shuddered at Li Ming's "or else," stumbling as he rushed toward the truck.
Scratching his brow, Stark asked curiously, "Is Killian really that obedient?"
"Obedient?" Li Ming glanced at Stark, then gestured toward a recliner in the distance, moving it behind Stark with a lazy wave. "After a few days with the Dementors, any creature would behave."
Stark comfortably settled into the recliner and called out without hesitation, "Kreacher, bring me a beer—the special kind with magic herbs mixed in."
After shouting, Stark turned to Li Ming and asked curiously, "How exactly did the Dementors discipline Killian?"
"I knew Happy couldn't keep his big mouth shut," Li Ming muttered before smirking and shaking his head. "You really don't want to know."
Instead of quenching Stark's curiosity, Li Ming's response only made it itch more. Stark grinned pleadingly. "Come on, we're close friends. Just tell me."
Li Ming gave Stark a sidelong glance, chuckled, then closed his eyes and resumed humming.
As for explaining how the Dementors had disciplined Killian—Li Ming wasn't stupid. Revealing that he had turned Killian into a long-term food source for the Dementors would only bring him trouble. After all, it was undeniably an act of pure evil.
That said, Li Ming hadn't initially planned to make Killian a permanent meal ticket for the Dementors. It was more a case of Killian reaping what he sowed—not only provoking Li Ming but also injecting himself with a high-grade dose of the Extremis Virus, granting him formidable regenerative abilities.
It was worth noting that the body and soul influence each other. This meant that after the Dementors fed on a portion of Killian's soul, the Extremis Virus would slowly restore it.
Though the recovery was sluggish—taking months just to regenerate a single finger's worth of soul—it was still far too slow to keep up with the Dementors' feeding pace. But after being fed on by Dementors a few times and Li Ming's detailed explanation, Killian had already understood the consequences of disobedience. He now realized that his once-proud superhuman regenerative ability had become a curse.
Along with this, Killian also grasped what awaited him in the hands of a mage: Damn it, I'd have been better off getting blown to pieces by Stark!
Seeing Li Ming lost in his own amusement, Stark took a sip of the beer Kreacher had brought and said, "Aren't you curious why I'm the one delivering the timber?"
Li Ming closed his eyes, curling his lips slightly in disdain. "What else could it be? It's just Fury seeing Killian working for me for free and wanting you to persuade me to hand this bastard over to him." Pausing, Li Ming looked curiously at Stark and added, "Honestly, I'm more interested in what Fury offered you to make you play mediator."
Stark raised an eyebrow. "You only got half of it right. Fury did offer me something to act as a mediator, but the main reason I'm here is—"
As he spoke, Stark pulled out a lighter from his pocket, lit it, and stared intently at the tiny flame while slowly waving his claw-like right hand near it.
Before long, the small flame seemed drawn to Stark's right palm, drifting away from the lighter toward his hand—only to flicker out halfway.
Witnessing this, Li Ming instinctively sat up straight, staring at Stark's proud expression. How long has it been since I taught Stark the 'Merlin Magic Ring' and a few minor tricks?
Li Ming felt a chill run down his spine. Is Stark's talent too damn high? With no resources, no mage's guidance, just relying on his own genius, he's already controlling flames in less than half a year?
Scratching his head, Li Ming thought back: How long did it take me to control fire back then, even with a solid magical foundation and a teacher's guidance? Definitely measured in months...
Damn it, you cheater! Cursing Stark inwardly, Li Ming scoffed, "What's there to show off? I managed it in just a few days back then."
Stark's eye twitched. Pointing at his sunglasses, he rolled his eyes and said, "Know why I wear these? So Jarvis can record and analyze your shocked expressions anytime."
Li Ming glanced at the sunglasses wordlessly, then plucked them off Stark's face and put them on himself. Standing in front of Stark, he studied him for a moment—then, to Stark's utter bewilderment, transformed into his exact likeness, mimicking his voice and tone as he commanded, "Jarvis, delete all records related to Austin just now."
Almost instantly, Jarvis's voice came through the glasses: "Yes, sir."
Watching the records vanish line by line, Li Ming—still wearing Stark's face—settled back into the chair. Handing the sunglasses back, he pointed at his own (now Stark's) face and grinned. "See that, kid? That's magic."
Stark rolled his eyes again. "You violated my likeness rights. You owe me compensation." "Compensate my ass," Li Ming said irritably, pointing at the beer in Stark's hand. "This kind of beer is a rare commodity even in Asgard. I haven't even asked you for the money, and you're already demanding benefits from me? Go cool off somewhere else."
Stark pursed his lips and downed the beer in one gulp without another word, then shouted, "Kreacher, another beer!"
"Don't—" Li Ming quickly stopped Stark, his expression turning serious as he warned, "This stuff might be good for you, but an ordinary person can only have one glass at most. Even though you have a tiny bit of magical energy now, you can't drink too much. Otherwise, the excess external energy will disrupt your already limited reserves. Don't blame me if you end up with hormonal imbalances later."
Magic can cause hormonal imbalances? Stark was taken aback for a moment before shrugging. "Alright, you're the expert. I'll take your word for it." After a brief hesitation, he asked, "Do I need to follow a special diet? Will it affect my magical training?"
Li Ming shook his head. "Normally, consuming food infused with magical energy only aids your training. The only exceptions are certain special ingredients that require careful handling or overly potent materials that shouldn't be consumed in excess."
Stark glanced at his empty beer mug and stroked his chin. "Happy said your beer is brewed from wheat. So, is your wheat special or just too high-grade?"
"This wheat was shamelessly begged off an old man," Li Ming said smugly. "It's both a special plant and a high-grade material—though for you, it's only the latter. It's simply too advanced for you."
"As for its special properties, it's related to dark creatures. For example, this beer can be used like a weaker version of holy water. If you splash it on minor dark creatures like ghosts, they'll either die or be severely injured."
Stark scratched his brow. The wheat's special properties didn't concern him, but Li Ming's earlier comment about its grade rankled him, as if mocking his lack of strength.
Was it his fault he was weak?
Stark felt aggrieved but had no one to blame. Without a teacher or textbooks, he had managed to cultivate a sliver of magical energy purely through his own intelligence and effort. It hadn't been easy!
Burning with silent resentment, Stark decided to go home and study magic harder, vowing to surpass Li Ming one day and show him what a true genius looked like.
With that thought, Stark let out a haughty snort and stood up, heading toward his car to leave.
But after only a few steps, he suddenly heard Li Ming's voice call out lazily from behind, "Kreacher, we're having roasted lamb for dinner tonight—the kind infused with magical energy."
This guy is definitely doing it on purpose. Stark turned back and returned to the lounge chair, declaring righteously, "How can you possibly finish a whole roasted lamb by yourself? Let me tell you, wasting food is the most shameful behavior. To properly educate you, I've decided to stay and correct your misguided thinking." These days, people who mooch off others still have the nerve to lecture? Li Ming rolled his eyes and casually pulled out a magic book from his pocket, handing it to Stark. "There's only one copy of this magic book. I can't give it to you, but you can read it here." Pausing, Li Ming fixed Stark with a stern look and said seriously, "Practicing magic has never been easy, especially for self-taught mages like us. One wrong step, and the consequences are beyond our control. So you must maintain a calm mindset and avoid excessive greed."
When he mentioned a "calm mindset," Li Ming couldn't help but inwardly scoff at himself bitterly.
Back when he was weak, every step on the magical path was taken with extreme caution. But once his strength grew to a decent level, where was that calm mindset then?
Facing strong enemies meant running, while facing the weak meant crushing them. Unconsciously, his nature had become slightly warped.
If God hadn't dropped by every other day to chat with him, Li Ming wouldn't have realized the severity of the dark corruption until now.
Seeing Li Ming unusually serious in his warning, Stark nodded slightly to show he understood.
After a while, Li Ming suddenly asked, "What did Fury offer you?"
Stark twitched his nose and replied, "A few days ago, when I managed to manipulate flames over short distances, I started searching for special metals to use in crafting a magical Armor Suit in the future. Then Fury suddenly showed up and asked if you were the one planning to make the suit."
With a proud expression, Stark continued, "Considering Fury would find out who was using the suit once it was finished anyway, I told him I'd learned a bit of magic myself."
"After that, Fury mentioned you'd once encountered aliens and even stripped a few special garments off them. He speculated those could be used to make magical clothing."
"Fury used those materials to get me to act as his mediator. His demand was simple: once the ship is built, hand Killian over to him."