When Dragon Balls Descend Upon Marvel

Happy stood there holding Tony's discarded clothes, the arc reactor and other parts placed neatly on top. His face shifted slightly as he asked in a trembling voice,

"So… am I going to have to go into the treatment pod too?"

Bulma looked at him curiously.

"Do you have some kind of illness?"

"You look pretty healthy to me," she added.

Happy muttered,

"I'm holding the arc reactor… am I going to get palladium poisoning too?"

Smith Dole and Bulma both froze for a moment before Bulma explained,

"The palladium radiation from the arc reactor is extremely weak, with a very limited range. For a small arc reactor like this, the radiation radius is normally no more than fifty centimeters."

"And even then, the radiation is minimal."

She thought for a moment and gave an example.

"It's like how bananas have nuclear radiation — they contain higher levels of potassium-40. Potassium-40, CT scans, and nuclear radiation all belong to ionizing radiation, but the levels are extremely low. For someone to die from banana radiation, they'd need to eat twenty-five million bananas in a very short time."

"So talking about harm without talking about dosage is meaningless."

"Besides, palladium poisoning isn't impossible to dilute. The human body's self-repair ability is actually very strong. Even in Tony Stark's case, if he stopped using the arc reactor right now and drank eighty ounces — 2.36 liters — of chlorophyll every day, his body would eventually expel the palladium from his blood over time."

"And Tony has been wearing his reactor 24/7. Even then, it took more than a year for it to reach this stage."

Hearing Bulma's explanation, Happy finally relaxed, no longer worried that holding the arc reactor would poison him.

…

Eight hours later, after a nap, Bulma and the others returned to the recovery room. Tony's treatment had just finished.

When the prompt sounded, Bulma operated the controls and the fluid drained from the pod. Tony slowly woke up.

"All right, all the toxins in your body are gone," she said.

Tony opened his eyes, removed the oxygen tube and monitoring cables, pushed the hatch open, and stepped out.

"I feel like I've gone back to the womb. What a strange and amazing experience."

"I feel strong enough to kill a bull right now."

He glanced down at his chest. The hollow cavity was now filled with flesh — no trace of injury left.

"Smith, Bulma, this pod is incredible. It's definitely a groundbreaking product."

"If you put this out on the market, trust me — countless medical giants will go bankrupt, unless the price is as high as that floating car of yours."

Bulma shook her head.

"This costs many times more to run than a hovercar."

Tony blinked in surprise, then quickly understood. With this level of technology, the cost couldn't possibly be low.

He turned to Happy.

"Where's my suit?"

Happy pointed to a nearby rack. Tony's suit had already been pressed and hung neatly.

After dressing, Tony picked up the portable tester he always carried for measuring palladium levels in his blood.

He pricked his thumb and let a drop of blood fall onto the device.

Beep — Blood toxicity: 0!

Seeing the result, Tony's face broke into a smile.

"Heaven! It's really gone!"

"That's amazing, hahaha!"

A quick check of his watch told him that the shrapnel in his chest had also been removed. Eight hours had passed — if it was still there, he'd already be dead. Without the arc reactor, he no longer had to live under the threat of instant death.

He looked at Smith, raised his brows, and said,

"Buddy, how about this — until I find a replacement element, once my blood concentration reaches about forty percent, I'll come back for treatment. Name your price, I won't haggle."

Bulma answered for him.

"Running the pod once costs one hundred million dollars. Pay what you think is fair."

Even Tony was taken aback at the figure, but thinking about the benefits — repairing hidden injuries, restoring his body to peak condition, and, as Bulma had said, effectively adding ten years to his life the first time — it was worth it.

"OK, I'll pay three hundred million. I'm not letting my buddy lose money."

Smith glanced at Bulma, who smiled sweetly with narrowed eyes.

The pod was indeed expensive to run, much more so than a hovercar. A hovercar sold for ten million, while the treatment liquid cost only a few million to make — but the rare materials meant bulk orders didn't lower costs.

Still, three hundred million per use… Tony Stark really was an energy tycoon.

For Tony, paying that much to save his own life was a bargain.

Smith patted him on the shoulder.

"Get ready, we're heading to the hearing next. Oh, and Pepper Potts is on her way here."

Tony nodded.

"Perfect. Let's see what kind of tricks those guys have up their sleeves this time."

…

Washington, D.C. — Military Court Hearing.

Smith and the others arrived at the venue. Behind Tony sat Happy and Pepper Potts; behind them were Fox and John Wick. Bulma hadn't come — she wasn't interested.

Smith was curious why they'd summoned him at all. He hadn't sold any armor — surely they weren't about to push a Superhuman Registration Act? Or did they want him to testify against Tony Stark?

"Mr. Stark, shall we continue from where we left off? Mr. Stark, please," said the senator at the desk, tapping the gavel.

Tony had been whispering to Pepper but now turned his head.

"Yes, darling?"

His words drew laughter from the room.

The senator tapped the gavel again.

"Please pay attention to what I'm saying."

"No problem," Tony replied casually.

"Do you possess a special weapon?"

"No."

"You don't?"

"I don't. Depends what you mean by weapon."

"'Iron Man' counts as a weapon," the senator said firmly.

"My invention isn't a weapon."

"Then how would you describe it?"

"Senator, it is what it is."

"And what is it?" the senator pressed.

"It's a high-tech prosthesis," Tony answered.

(End of Chapter)

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