Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

Chapter 5864 - 4886: Marvelous Shadow Play (12)

Stark was truly on the verge of a breakdown. He couldn’t understand. One of his friends suddenly turned into a terrifying monster wearing human skin, while another turned into a mad scientist seemingly intent on experimenting on him. What has happened to this world?Looking at Stark’s terrified expression, Strange finally backed off his power. He lowered his eyelids and said, "I’m not joking around with you. The eyes are the windows to the soul. What kind of eyes a person has represents the kind of soul they have."

"I still don’t get it." Stark moved forward, quickening his pace to catch up with him, and said, "Didn’t you ever see my eyes when you talked to me before? Did I always wear an eye patch, or did you follow some strange etiquette that dictates you can’t look into someone’s eyes when talking to them..."

Strange suddenly stopped in his tracks, nearly making Stark stumble. He looked into Stark’s eyes and said, "You’re the one who’s been avoiding eye contact all along, Tony."

Stark stood frozen in place. By the time he snapped out of it, Strange was already gone. He began to ponder what Strange had said. Was it true that he hadn’t made eye contact with people before?

But it couldn’t be true that he never did at all. And even if he didn’t before, how much better is it now?

Stark still felt they were talking nonsense. Youth and age are only separated by a few days, such a big change was impossible. Surely others were just creating an air of mystery.

However, because others were so resolute, Stark was a bit shaken too. He found an excuse to go to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.

At the moment he saw the mirror, he froze. The face in the mirror was indeed his youthful face, but not entirely.

Stark in his younger years did look like this, but his eyes were entirely different.

In his youth, Stark drank heavily, had a history of drug abuse, and indulged excessively, becoming so wrapped up in just pleasures that he was often not very sober. He remembered he always had a sleepy-eyed appearance.

But now, Stark was no longer like that. He was much more mature, and his eyes were clearer and more resolute, appearing sharp and bright. This made his already deeply affectionate eyes draw even more attention.

Moreover, since his face had become younger, many of the fine lines had disappeared, not diverting attention, making his features appear more defined. The most pronounced on Stark’s face were his brows and eyes, allowing people to immediately notice his eyes.

His rich emotions were both a curse and his gift. Stark’s emotions overflowed from his soul, with the first coming out being his eyes. Stark gently touched his eye corners, observing his own eyes. The moist eyes always carried an indescribable, poignant sentimentality.

Then he suddenly thought, with such eyes on his face during all these days, no wonder the number of people winking at him increased exponentially. Could it be they all misunderstood that he was interested in them?

Stark wiped his face vigorously. His reputation wasn’t great to begin with, most people didn’t believe he’d truly mend his ways. With such eyes, normal eye contact could easily be misunderstood as flirting. Coincidentally enough, this was on a movie set full of cameras, and his wife had the nickname Little Pepper. This was major trouble.

Strange walked to the dressing room. He picked up a shirt to change into, instinctively flipping back the collar. After seeing the brand on the shirt, he sighed and tossed it aside.

He picked up a light beige sweater, flipped the collar, and saw it was good, also a brand name. He wandered around the dressing room, and finally walked out unchanged.

The stylist was somewhat puzzled and asked, "What’s wrong?"

Then he remembered Stark’s instructions and said, "Oh, you must be a doctor. You don’t need to worry, all the clothes here are brand new, just adjusted for fitting size, no one has worn or touched them..."

The stylist thought Strange was simply a clean freak, unwilling to wear costumes others had worn. Strange rubbed his forehead, bothered, saying, "Go get Tony."

The stylist had no idea what Strange was dissatisfied with, but nervously went to call someone. After a while, Stark came over and said, "What’s the issue? Is there a problem with the clothes?"

"Isn’t this about my college days?" Strange turned back to look at the dressing room, saying, "Any clothes in here cost a year’s tuition for me. You know how expensive medical school tuition is, right?"

Stark looked at the stylist. The stylist called over the wardrobe advisor. The wardrobe advisor said, "Some of the clothes are sponsored by the investors, others are chosen for comfort in wear. The rest are private clothes provided by your style consultant..."

"This doesn’t fit the character’s background at all." Stark said, "Can’t you find some ordinary clothes?"

"I’m not sure what your ordinary means..." The wardrobe advisor was also troubled. Who dares let Stark wear street clothes, if something goes wrong who takes responsibility? His few friends wearing them wouldn’t work either, what if someone picks fault?

Stark felt troubled. Having no voice in the crew wasn’t viable, but having too much say could also cause issues. Everyone worries about offending him, even sacrificing the film quality to please him. It’s like a large-scale live action role play, everyone accompanies the crown prince in reading.

"Go and get Mr. Brock," Stark said.

Eddie came over looking a bit bewildered and asked, "What’s the matter? Is there some interesting behind-the-scenes footage here? I thought we were waiting a while before filming..."

"If I asked you to be a production assistant... alright, just make you a producer, can you handle it?"

"Why would I..."

Stark briefly explained the situation to him. Eddie suddenly understood. If the entire crew combined still doesn’t have as much say as Stark alone, then this film simply can’t be made. Even if Stark doesn’t deliberately throw his weight around, everyone is constrained and doesn’t dare to fully utilize their professional skills.

"Alright," Eddie said, "if you get me a spot as an embedded journalist, I’ll help manage things for you."

"No problem," Stark said, "this isn’t a great gig to begin with. If you’re willing to go, they’d be more than happy. I’ll put you on Steve’s ship, he can teach you some basic skills."

Eddie quickly got to work, starting with costumes. As soon as he saw those designer outfits, he knew they wouldn’t do, so he hurriedly had someone buy some regular shirts. The only problem was, they didn’t fit quite as well as custom-made ones. The more Stark looked, the more awkward he felt.

"Maybe we should just wait for the custom ones," Stark said, looking at Strange, who was wearing a shirt that seemed a bit small, "Your chest size is clearly too tight, this won’t work either..."

Strange snorted coldly, "Where would I find money for custom-made clothes..."

Stark seemed a bit perplexed. Strange took a deep breath, and a cloak flew out from mid-air, briefly obscuring the corner of the dressing room. After a burst of magic glow, a tall and thin young man appeared.

Seeing the young Strange, Stark was also taken aback. He mouthed for a moment and then said, "Can I say this? You look kind of like a high-IQ murderer..."

Indeed, the young Strange had sharper features, his eyebrow ridge was set low, and his eyes were slightly narrow, giving off a cold and slightly unearthly vibe. Coupled with his tall and slim figure, he seemed perfect for playing a killer in those campus horror survival movies.

The younger Strange was even thinner; what was originally a slightly small shirt fit him well, but now the waist was a bit large. Stark’s OCD kicked in, and just when he was about to say more, Strange conjured a pair of glasses and put them on, saying, "I really don’t have money for custom clothes, Mr. Stark. Cut me some slack."

After speaking, he squeezed past Stark. Stark turned back to look at Strange. What did he just call him? "Mr. Stark"? One strange thing after another.

The three "young men" finally met successfully, but honestly, everyone felt awkward looking at each other, making the atmosphere a bit weird, like the three Spider-Men pointing at one another.

"I really didn’t expect," Stark said sincerely, "that when we were young, we would be so... incompatible."

In fact, he was already getting nervous. According to the original plot, this was supposed to be a warm coming-of-age movie. Now it seemed like it couldn’t be warm, it was doubtful if it would be youthful, and it would be best not to grow, as it might not even turn out to be a movie at all.

Stark’s head was throbbing, utterly clueless about what to do. Even if these two could cooperate, facing them both, he doubted he could play out any warm scenes. Just looking at them made him want to call the police—hoping the Avengers could step in.

"Say," Eddie interjected timely, "don’t you think your guys’ image isn’t really cut out for college life?"

"I just realized," Stark said with despair, "Is it a bit late?"

"It’s actually not too late," Eddie said, "you aren’t short on money. As long as you pay on time, everyone will be willing to wait for you to rewrite the script."

"What’s your suggestion?" Stark asked, "From a professional standpoint, should we change it or not?"

"My suggestion is, of course, to change it," Eddie said, "Honestly, those movies that express family, friendship, and growth are really overdone. If you don’t do it well, you’ll be criticized, and even if it’s done well, it won’t stand out. I fear it won’t be the effect you want."

"What do you think then?"

Eddie glanced over them, "I think you guys would be better suited for a suspenseful murder mystery film."

"Spare me!" Stark almost screamed, "If I were to film a murder case with these two, what would I play? The corpse?"

Shiller couldn’t help but laugh, propping his chin with his hand, seemingly somewhat enamored as he looked into Stark’s eyes, "I promise you’d be a beautiful corpse."

"How about a combination," Eddie continued to try and hold it together, "a murder case at college?"

"Oh, that makes sense," Strange chimed in, "Every time finals exams arrive, I feel like killing someone. To be exact, every medical student does."

Stark slumped onto the table.

But he eventually compromised. Because movies really depend on the chemistry between actors. Sometimes, the script is well set, but if there’s no chemistry between the actors, what you get is a bad film. Conversely, some films have an absurd storyline, but because of some subtle chemistry between the protagonists, they turn out to be quite enjoyable.

Clearly, the chemistry among these three is not that kind of heartwarming or quirky camaraderie. Or suppose their older selves could be like that, but when they turn young, the atmosphere completely changes. In film terms, it’s something filled with potential stories. The previous script would appear too forced.

But changing things can’t be done haphazardly. Stark was out of ideas, so he could only spend a fortune to hire Chris, who was still busy with the Magic Academy movie. From what he knew, this Chris was also quite the genius, being able to hit it off with each of Shiller’s personalities, surely he could fix this mess.

Sure enough, as soon as Chris saw the three of them, his eyes lit up, and he immediately exclaimed, "I have inspiration!"