"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The sharp tapping of metal on glass pulled carl out of his chakra practice.
He turned his head.
Hovering outside the massive glass window was none other than Tony Stark, suited in his iconic red-and-gold armor, tapping on the glass with an impatient expression.
Carl raised an eyebrow and stood up. "You know there's a front door, right?"
Tony grinned inside the helmet, then hovered back slightly as Carl slid open the window.
"Front door's not exactly an option today," Tony said, stepping through and removing his helmet with a hiss of compressed air. "Ever since the press conference this morning, I've been headline news again. If I walk in the front like a regular visitor, I'll be mobbed before I even get to the elevator. And not long after that, your lobby will be swarming with reporters."
He set the helmet down on the table with a metallic clunk and shrugged. "Didn't want to cause you any unnecessary PR disasters."
Carl chuckled and handed him a glass of water. "Actually, I wouldn't mind. Free advertising, you know? You bring the crowd, I get the exposure."
Tony took the glass and raised it in mock salute. "If you're into that kind of thing, I can recommend a few paparazzi."
Carl gestured for him to sit. "Thanks, but I'm after something more than a photo op. I need your help specifically, Tony."
Tony leaned back, skeptical. "You've already got Pepper helping you, right? She knows the ropes—media channels, branding, outreach. She's the real deal when it comes to business."
"She's been a great help, no doubt," carl said with a nod. "She's helped us push our products—especially from Sokovia and parts of New York to global market. But that's not enough. I need something... bigger."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Define 'bigger.'"
Carl leaned forward. "Global impact. Right now, our Three-Color Pills—Power Pill, Military Ration Pill, and Green Pill( Hunger pills)—are gaining traction. But outside a few territories, it's slow. Other pharmaceutical companies are suppressing us, and the public is skeptical. They don't trust something they don't understand."
Tony shrugged. "That's the market. Slow, political, cutthroat."
"I don't have time to wait for the market to catch up," Carl said firmly. "I need global awareness now. And you, Tony Stark, are one of the few people alive who can shift public opinion in a heartbeat."
Tony blinked. "Wait—you want me to do a commercial?"
"Not a commercial," Carl said, smiling. "Just a bit of Stark flair. Wear a patch. Mention the pills in an interview. A logo on your armor somewhere subtle—nothing that interferes with your style. That kind of casual endorsement from you? It would skyrocket credibility."
Tony stared at him, clearly caught off guard. "You want me to turn into a walking billboard?"
"You already are," Carl said, amused. "You just happen to advertise yourself. Why not lend a little of that celebrity to a product that actually helps people? You've seen the results. You know they work."
Tony swirled the water in his glass, thinking. "You're not wrong. I've used the pills myself—they're no joke. Still... logos on my suit?"
"You could put it somewhere tasteful. Maybe under the arm. Or just drop a line about them at your next tech summit. 'Powered by Stark... and Hudson's Group.'"
Tony laughed. "That's such blatant product placement it's almost charming."
Carl grinned. "Consider it charity. Or genius marketing."
Tony set the glass down. "Alright. I'll talk to Pepper, maybe squeeze in a quote or two next time I'm on camera."
"Deal and about the logo..."
But deep inside, he knew—this was only the first ripple in a much larger wave. And with Tony's influence on his side, the world was about to take notice of the Three-Color Pills in a way no corporate sabotage could suppress.
The product endorsed by Iron Man himself.
Who wouldn't believe in its effectiveness after that?
And once Tony Stark personally took it a few times—publicly—Carl was certain that the Three-Color Pills would conquer the global market.
Sales would explode overnight. It might not just surpass the Stark Group at its peak—it could push Carl past the threshold required to open a new world.
Tony, however, looked at him like he'd just been asked to paint the Iron Man armor pink.
"Carl," he said, narrowing his eyes, "you have to be joking. You want me to slap ads on the Mark Armor? Do you know how many countries treat this suit like a religious artifact? That's... That's humiliating!"
He had originally flown in to show off the latest iteration of his Mark suit—sleeker, faster, with a more refined arc reactor. He expected carl to admire the craftsmanship, not use it as a billboard.
Carl didn't flinch.
"I'm not joking. You've used the Three-Color Pills yourself. Are the results as good as we claim or not?"
Tony groaned and scratched the back of his head. "They're... good. That's not the problem. The product is solid. But—"
Carl cut him off.
"I know what you're about to say. But Tony, think about it. If our pills, especially the Green Pill, were distributed globally, how many poor communities would benefit? How many lives could be saved from hunger and malnutrition? It's no different from when you decided to shut down Stark Industries' weapons division. You made a moral choice to help the world."
Tony went quiet.
Because Carl wasn't wrong.
He'd flown to villages ravaged by war. He'd seen children with hollow cheeks and empty stomachs. He'd watched people fight over scraps.
The Green Pill—cheap, nourishing, effective—could change lives. And if one Iron Man endorsement could spread it faster, wider…
Still, something gnawed at him.
It wasn't about the product. It was about him.
He didn't like feeling like a corporate mouthpiece—even for a good cause.
Tony stood, grabbing his helmet. "Look, Carl, I get it. I do. But I can't wear your brand on the suit. That's just... not me. Instead, I'll have Pepper ramp up support, maybe run some ads through Stark Media. Hell, I'll even fund a couple humanitarian drops using your pills."
He started toward the window.
Carl didn't stop smiling. Calm, steady, unreadable.
"Wait," he said gently, holding out Tony's helmet. "At least hear the reward I'm offering for your help."
Tony hesitated, his back half-turned. "Carl, I told you—I don't need a reward. I owe you more than I can repay already. But I can't do this."
Carl's expression didn't change. "Then let me ask you one thing. Lately... have you felt off? Maybe not physically—at first—but something subtle. Fatigue. Chest pain. Strange discolorations under the skin?"
Tony blinked.
"I—what?"
"You're poisoned," Carl said flatly. "I noticed it in the desert. At the time, I wasn't sure. But now I am. It's spreading."
Tony's face fell.
"What the hell are you talking about? I've been working out. Potts even said I've been looking good lately."
Carl leaned back, fingers steepled.
"Outward appearances mean nothing. You're dying, Tony. The reactor in your chest—it's leaking palladium into your bloodstream. Slow. Silent. Lethal. Even if you change the core, it only delays the inevitable. Unless you find a new element—or a way to cleanse the poison—you'll be dead in months."
Tony stood frozen, helmet in hand, the color draining from his face.
He knew something was wrong. But he hadn't told anyone. He hadn't wanted to admit it even to himself.
"How do you know that?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"I've studied you," Carl said simply. "And I'm not just a businessman. I'm a ninja. I can see things others can't. I also happen to have something that can stabilize your condition... maybe even cure you, if you're willing to cooperate."
Tony sat back down slowly, his fingers tightening around the helmet.
"You're not bluffing?"
"Would I need to?"
Carl placed a small jade-colored pill on the table.
It shimmered faintly, like it carried a pulse.
Tony stared at it.
"So... you're saying... I wear your logo, and I get to live?"
Carl grinned.
"No. You help me spread this product for the greater good... and I'll make sure Iron Man gets a few more years to be a hero."