Even the best doctors in the field couldn't refuse Tony Stark—because on this land, money was power.
And Tony Stark, sitting at the very tip of the wealth pyramid, possessed riches that could rival nations. He was unquestionably one of the tiniest handful of people with the greatest influence.
The moment he heard Tony Stark's request, Stephen Strange's expression froze, his face filling with difficulty.
Tony Stark's situation was far too dangerous. The difficulty of this surgery was practically hell-tier. Any tiny mistake could get Tony Stark killed, and even Strange couldn't guarantee success.
More importantly, if the surgery failed—if Tony Stark died unexpectedly on his table—the consequences were unthinkable.
His entire life would be over. All the reputation he'd built would burst like a dream bubble, and the stain of failure would follow him forever!
No one would ever dare entrust their life to him again, and worse still, the hospital—protecting its own name—would toss him out without hesitation, sweeping away what had once been its "rising star."
Strange suffered in silence, his mind racing, thinking of a way to politely refuse Tony Stark and push this surgery away.
He chose his words carefully, wearing a troubled expression as he declined. "Mr. Stark, I'm truly sorry. I've studied your case in detail, and even I… can't possibly complete this surgery."
Strange's refusal didn't surprise Tony. As a genius himself, Tony understood the difficulty better than anyone.
But he wasn't disappointed—because before meeting Strange, Harry had told him he would help persuade Strange.
Seeing this, Harry nodded at Tony, then turned his gaze to Strange with calm confidence.
"Mr. Strange, don't rush to refuse. I'm confident I can help you complete this surgery safely."
Strange looked at Harry.
He didn't recognize this young man, but anyone who was clearly close with Tony Stark was bound to be important.
So Strange asked curiously, "And what method do you have, sir?"
Harry's lips lifted slightly into a mysterious smile. "Magic. During the operation, I'll assist from the side with healing magic to prevent Tony from bleeding out. Even if something goes wrong—if things reach the worst-case scenario—I can still save his life."
Strange: "???"
"Wait, sir… what did you just say? Magic? Are you joking?" Strange's face darkened.
To him, medicine was a rigorous science. It allowed no mockery.
Even if the other party was someone powerful he couldn't offend, Strange still wouldn't tolerate jokes inside the medical field he treated like faith.
Harry had already predicted Strange's reaction, and immediately prepared to record this whole conversation with magic.
When Strange became the Sorcerer Supreme in the future, Harry would play it back for him—his expression then would definitely be priceless.
As for the possibility that learning about magic early might alter Strange's destiny, and he might end up unable to become the Sorcerer Supreme?
How could that happen?
Harry was still here. For the sake of retiring early, he would never let Strange escape—at most, that "accident" might change from a car crash to a plane crash.
Wait. Maybe he should record this with his phone too. Later he could upload it to social media. Maybe he could even make an account—start a whole series dedicated to uploading embarrassing moments of superheroes.
So, under Strange's puzzled gaze, Harry pulled out his phone, aimed it at him, and said cheerfully, "Yes, magic. Don't tell me Dr. Strange doesn't believe magic exists?"
Strange's eyes went cold at once. Now he was sure Harry and Tony were just here to mess with him—two creeps with a nasty sense of humor.
So he didn't hold back either, and mocked him directly. "Sir, in my opinion, you should go see Neurology. There may be something wrong with your brain. How could this world possibly have magic? If magic really existed, then I would…"
"Then you would what?" Harry looked even more excited, like he was waiting for the show to begin.
Noticing Harry's reaction, Strange felt an ominous chill—but he still continued. "Then I'll eat my scalpel!"
In the next instant, a sly glint flashed through Harry's eyes. He immediately etched a dense, intricate magic array and tossed it in front of Strange, prompting him to touch it, while smiling kindly.
"Alright. You can start eating."
Strange: "0ノ"
"What the f— This… this can't be possible?! Hahaha—hallucinations, it's all hallucinations! So I'm dreaming!" Strange's mind went blank, his mouth mumbling without control.
But the facts were right in front of him. After a long streak of "what the f—," he finally accepted reality.
Magic really existed.
"Alright… I guess there are still a lot of things in this world I don't know. So magic really exists. Then that so-called healing charm really works?" Strange asked curiously.
Harry simply sliced Strange's palm, then tossed him a healing charm.
When Strange saw the injury fully restore itself, he looked dazed, and finally agreed.
"Fine. I lose. I'll start preparing right away. With your help, this surgery will definitely succeed! But next time you demonstrate magic, use your own hand—my hands can't be casually injured!"
Half an hour later, the operation began.
During the surgery, Harry used electromagnetic force to replace the Arc Reactor's magnetic pull, holding the shrapnel steady so it wouldn't slip and enter Tony's heart.
On top of that, using his own perception, he helped Strange locate the exact position of the shrapnel amid the tangled web of blood vessels and tissue.
The operation lasted five hours. Finally, Strange lifted the last fragment of shrapnel with his forceps, placed it onto a tray, and let out a long breath.
"The surgery is over!"
The moment it ended, Pepper—who had been waiting outside—rushed into the operating room and went straight to Tony's side.
When Tony woke up and opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Pepper's face streaked with tears.
For once, he didn't act flippant. He gently brushed the tears from the corner of her eye and rasped, "Why are you crying? Isn't everything fine now?"
After confirming Tony was out of danger and safe, Pepper's tightly wound nerves finally loosened.
She forced a smile, full of grievance. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? If something like this happens again, you are absolutely not allowed to hide it from me!"
"Mm. I promise. Definitely."
After removing the Arc Reactor, Tony no longer had to worry about palladium poisoning.
Still, he planned to continue researching a new element. After all, using palladium as the Arc Reactor's fuel had obvious flaws—low energy conversion efficiency, short sustained output, and serious safety hazards.
He needed cleaner, more stable energy.
After saying goodbye to Tony and Strange, Harry returned home.
After what happened, he fell into thought, realizing that his current healing magic still wasn't strong enough.
Whether it was Kamar-Taj's healing charm, or the wizarding world's healing charm, they could only handle minor wounds.
Against severe injuries, both spells became powerless—healing effectiveness dropping sharply.
Only if he poured massive amounts of chaos magic into a healing charm continuously could he achieve a relatively decent result.
But that wasn't a long-term solution.
If he faced a critical, near-death injury, he might be able to drain Abomination's life force to heal himself.
But if the one injured was a loved one—or if he was in the wizarding world—then that method clearly wouldn't work. So what then?
So Harry decided to research a spell capable of rapid healing, and the Mending Charm was a perfect prototype.
Normally, the Mending Charm could only repair damaged objects—it couldn't be used on living beings.
But if, through research and modification, he could make it work on a living body—even if only a tiny fraction of the original effect remained—it would still be an unbelievable healing method.
Because behind that seemingly simple charm lay high-dimensional time and causality.
The next day, sunlight filtered through mottled leaves and spilled onto the street.
Harry drove, with Peter in the passenger seat. He slammed the gas pedal down, and the Lamborghini's engine roar exploded through the road.
Their destination was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s New York headquarters—the Seraphis Building.
In just one day, Peter's injuries had already healed.
From the moment he got into the car, he'd been buzzing with excitement, firing questions at Harry.
"Oh my God, we're really going to the agents' headquarters! Like the agents in the movies, right? Are they super skilled? Do they have tons of amazing spy gadgets?"
At first, Harry still answered Peter patiently.
But as time passed, Peter's questions didn't decrease—he asked more and more.
Harry felt like a swarm of mosquitoes was circling his ears. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and roared, "Peter, shut up! If you don't want me to throw you out here, be quiet!"
Ever since he put on the Spider-Man suit, Peter was like someone had opened a floodgate. His chatterbox trait had gotten worse and worse, chirping nonstop all day.
After Harry's shout, Peter immediately shrank back, and the car fell silent.
After a long while, Peter curled his lip, his face full of dissatisfaction, muttering, "Harry, you've changed. You didn't used to be like this. Ever since you started dating Gwen, your patience with me—your brother—has visibly dropped!"
"Shut up!"
"Okay, okay, fine. I'll shut up."
Before long, the Lamborghini rolled to a steady stop beside the Seraphis Building. Harry and Peter pushed open the doors. The moment they stepped out, several agents strode toward them.
A few were familiar faces to Harry: the one-eyed Nick Fury, the bald agent Coulson, the magical old crone Black Widow, and the backward caveman Hawkeye.
As for the others, Harry didn't recognize them, but they were probably S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel as well.
When the two walked closer, an elderly man with a straight posture was the first to greet them.
He looked gentle as he shook Harry's hand, smiling warmly. "Hello, Mr. Potter. I'm Alexander Pierce. It's a pleasure to meet you!"
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