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Chapter 285: The Last Old Bartender
When Tony returned to New York City, many people had already been back for some time. On the vast estate, there were plenty of activities to keep these long-unseen friends entertained.
The recreational activities were varied.
For example, for someone like Max, various electrical currents were his favorite food, so an entire villa was dedicated to giant, dangerously sparking electrical cables.
For people like Blade and Whistler, there was a dedicated weapons research building and a training ground large enough for them to spar.
Other amenities like food and drink went without saying.
It was rare for everyone to gather like this.
As a Golden Portal slowly opened, Tony stepped through. In just a few seconds, he had easily crossed half the globe.
With him was Mordo.
But Wong had not come. The solemn man declared that he had to guard Earth's magical arrays and that Kamar-Taj needed someone on watch at all times. Tony could only shrug indifferently.
The Old Bartender, Max, Crane, Blade, and many others who had been through life and death with Tony had all received invitations and returned.
Oh, and there was Magik. The queen of Hell's Border had also come secretly on her own.
She wasn't fond of the tranquility of Kamar-Taj; the tumultuous life on Hell's Border suited her better, so she rarely stayed there.
Tony had also sent invitations to Professor X and Magneto, but both declined, having their own matters to attend to.
Tony even invited Johnny Blaze, but Johnny refused. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to control the Spirit of Vengeance and would go on a killing spree after transforming into the Ghost Rider at night.
There were very few who could withstand the Ghost Rider's Penance Stare—an encounter meant instant death—so Tony gave up on the idea.
After arranging a place for Mordo, Tony met with a group of familiar faces, exchanged some pleasantries, and caught up before hurriedly seeking out the Old Bartender.
"What did you say, Wanda's here?" Tony raised his eyebrows and shook his head with a smile. "No wonder I couldn't find her at Kamar-Taj. Turns out she came straight here."
"Hey, you're as dumb as they come. Why didn't you invite her in advance?" the Old Bartender said with a strange expression.
"I was planning to ask her to come with me when I arrived, but who knew she'd just come on her own," Tony said with a wry smile.
His schedule was packed every day; he was constantly risking his life. The mounting pressure from all sides meant Tony didn't dare to relax.
This was a desperate era, where the Universe was always on the brink of destruction. Knowing that Doomsday could appear at any moment, with nowhere to run, the pressure was immense.
"She almost couldn't take it and wanted to leave. Luckily, I stopped her in time... cough, cough..." The Old Bartender couldn't catch his breath and coughed sharply.
Tony's brow furrowed tightly. He was silent for a moment before speaking with a complex expression, "Your health... has it really gotten this bad?"
The Old Bartender coughed, waving his hand dismissively.
"Listen to me, your body's functions are deteriorating too quickly. Quit smoking, and especially quit drinking! You drink way too much. A stable life has given you plenty of time to drink, but you're committing slow suicide!" Tony urged in a low voice, knowing it was useless but trying nonetheless.
"Or I can have someone inject you with Dionysium, then you can drink all you want! As much as you want!"
"No way, no way. I don't want that stuff injected into me. Hey, that damn stuff from the Resurrection Spring severely erodes a human's senses. What's the point of having a long life if I can barely even taste the wine? It's meaningless." The Old Bartender smiled, stubbornly refusing.
Tony's expression grew even more complicated as he looked at this old man who could still kill just two years ago, now reduced to this state. Admittedly, the Old Bartender had brought this on himself. After settling down, not only did all his old injuries surface, but he also became addicted to alcohol, spending most of his days in a drunken stupor.
Tony had put the Old Bartender in the position of butler with this in mind.
"If I had said this to you in the past, you old coot would have already punched me in the face..." Tony took a deep breath and sighed.
The Old Bartender was the only person who treated him normally. The only one.
As Tony's power grew and his status rose dramatically, everyone else's attitude had subtly changed. This change became even more pronounced after he took on the mantle of the new Sorcerer Supreme.
Only the Old Bartender, this seemingly super unreliable old man, was still the same. Their conversations rarely went three sentences before they started arguing, then communicating with their fists, ending with bruises and swollen faces.
Of all the people here, only the Old Bartender still saw Tony as that foolish idiot, that dumb kid who had just awakened his powers, his mind filled with hatred and rage, doing things recklessly.
A certain idiot had once grinned foolishly as he barged into a Vampire Bar, kidnapping an old codger living on borrowed time, all to get a so-called "Master Mechanic" he didn't even really need.
Thinking back on it now, he had been so young, so unbelievably stupid.
Everyone, to a greater or lesser extent, had changed. In their eyes, Tony was no longer that clueless Metahuman, but the Guardian of a planet.
They had all changed. They had become slightly more reverent, adopting a formality and empty smiles that Tony didn't want to see, creating a distance between them that felt like a chasm despite their proximity.
That subtle barrier was annoying. It really, really annoyed Tony.
But only the Old Bartender, that foul-mouthed old bastard, interacted with Tony just as he always had. They'd start with mutual insults, move on to fists, and end up bruised and swollen.
This was how they communicated, and it had been this way for years.
Only the Old Bartender was left.
Everyone had changed, except for one stubborn old man clinging to the past.
But this fearless old man was about to die.
"I'll use magic to regulate your body. I can help you extend..."
Before Tony could finish, the Old Bartender interrupted him.
"No need, Tony. This isn't like you. Where did that carefree guy go? If I really wanted to live, there are plenty of ways. Even without Dionysium, I can use all sorts of high-tech serums from A.R.G.U.S. whenever I want. Not to mention they secretly obtained the blood of the newly awakened Captain America and have made huge progress in their serum research..."
The Old Bartender coughed a few times. The old man who once feared nothing had become as frail as any ordinary elder.
Tony remained silent for a long time. The two of them stood face to face, like two banks of a river, forever separated by the ceaseless flow that would never circle back.
"Hmph, I get it. If you want to die, then go die. When you do, I'll burn a stick of incense for you," Tony snorted, looking at the Old Bartender out of the corner of his eye.
The Old Bartender grinned. Tony noticed he had lost another tooth.
Tony knew why the Old Bartender was doing this, but by tacit agreement, neither of them said it.
The Vampire Kingdom, the driving force of the Old Bartender's existence, was gone, completely buried by Tony's family.
The few scattered survivors were being mercilessly hunted down by A.R.G.U.S. across the globe.
Countless Undead Warriors injected with Dionysium charged on the front lines, led by a few key figures, burying the last embers of the Vampire Kingdom.
With his pillar of spiritual support gone, the man himself began to fail.
In the past, all of the Old Bartender's relatives had been slaughtered by vampires. Now, the Old Bartender had witnessed the vampires' demise with his own eyes, and the fireworks that lit up the sky had been partly his own doing.
Exterminating the vampires wasn't just Tony's idea; it was also for the Old Bartender.
No one knew when the old man would finally break. Given the chance to fulfill his lifelong wish, Tony wouldn't hold back, and the Old Bartender would pursue it with even more ferocity until the final goal was achieved.
They had succeeded, and the Old Bartender had crumbled just as quickly, like a towering skyscraper suddenly losing its foundation, vanishing from the ground up.
Tony could clearly feel the Time Force constantly fading from the Old Bartender's body.
He had many ways to save the Old Bartender. Forget low-level methods like injecting a serum; Tony was even willing to risk using the Time Stone once to forcibly turn back time and restore the Old Bartender to his prime.
But he couldn't. If he did, the stubborn old man, who had already lived long enough, would surely commit suicide without a second thought.
Night fell. Many faces unseen for a long time were gathered together once more. In the magnificent hall, all sorts of rare foods and wines were laid out on tables that stretched from one end of the hall to the other, with a few gaps left for people to pass through.
Everyone chatted with each other, recounting their experiences. Laughter and sorrow mingled in the air as exquisite wines were drunk like water.
Even the little queen, Liana, drank too much, deliberately choosing not to use magic to sober up. She staggered around, looking for people to challenge to a drinking contest.
She ended up getting entangled with an equally drunk Quicksilver. The two youths, each holding a bottle, shouted loudly, eventually breaking into an argument and drinking themselves into a stupor.
Amidst this lively scene, the Old Bartender rarely drank. He just held a bottle, occasionally raising it to his lips as if taking a sip, though in reality, he only touched the alcohol with his lips, closing his eyes to savor the aroma.
He couldn't drink anymore. Tonight, he didn't want to drink either; he just wanted to watch the others.
He watched as people gathered here from all corners of the world. There was the Talon from Gotham City, Amanda, a woman who prided herself on being elite, yet had been kidnapped and replaced by Raven—an incident she considered a profound humiliation.
There were Mutants from the rival Brotherhood of Mutants and the X-Men. Others, like Pyro John, arrived midway and joined in without a second thought.
There were also Max and Betty. Their physiques made them difficult to defeat with alcohol, but they still excitedly joined the fray.
From nothing to something, from few to many—all of this had happened under his watch.
For some reason, the Old Bartender felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He even started raising his bottle more frequently. His messy hair sat unruly on his head, dampened by the occasional splash of liquor.
He casually ran a hand through his hair. His eyes, drunk without a single drop of alcohol, grew hazy. He looked at the chaotic hall and grinned like a child.
A single, glistening tear quietly trickled from the corner of his eye, unnoticed by anyone.
(end of chapter)
When Tony returned to New York City, many people had already been back for some time. On the vast estate, there were plenty of activities to keep these long-unseen friends entertained.
The recreational activities were varied.
For example, for someone like Max, various electrical currents were his favorite food, so an entire villa was dedicated to giant, dangerously sparking electrical cables.
For people like Blade and Whistler, there was a dedicated weapons research building and a training ground large enough for them to spar.
Other amenities like food and drink went without saying.
It was rare for everyone to gather like this.
As a Golden Portal slowly opened, Tony stepped through. In just a few seconds, he had easily crossed half the globe.
With him was Mordo.
But Wong had not come. The solemn man declared that he had to guard Earth's magical arrays and that Kamar-Taj needed someone on watch at all times. Tony could only shrug indifferently.
The Old Bartender, Max, Crane, Blade, and many others who had been through life and death with Tony had all received invitations and returned.
Oh, and there was Magik. The queen of Hell's Border had also come secretly on her own.
She wasn't fond of the tranquility of Kamar-Taj; the tumultuous life on Hell's Border suited her better, so she rarely stayed there.
Tony had also sent invitations to Professor X and Magneto, but both declined, having their own matters to attend to.
Tony even invited Johnny Blaze, but Johnny refused. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to control the Spirit of Vengeance and would go on a killing spree after transforming into the Ghost Rider at night.
There were very few who could withstand the Ghost Rider's Penance Stare—an encounter meant instant death—so Tony gave up on the idea.
After arranging a place for Mordo, Tony met with a group of familiar faces, exchanged some pleasantries, and caught up before hurriedly seeking out the Old Bartender.
"What did you say, Wanda's here?" Tony raised his eyebrows and shook his head with a smile. "No wonder I couldn't find her at Kamar-Taj. Turns out she came straight here."
"Hey, you're as dumb as they come. Why didn't you invite her in advance?" the Old Bartender said with a strange expression.
"I was planning to ask her to come with me when I arrived, but who knew she'd just come on her own," Tony said with a wry smile.
His schedule was packed every day; he was constantly risking his life. The mounting pressure from all sides meant Tony didn't dare to relax.
This was a desperate era, where the Universe was always on the brink of destruction. Knowing that Doomsday could appear at any moment, with nowhere to run, the pressure was immense.
"She almost couldn't take it and wanted to leave. Luckily, I stopped her in time... cough, cough..." The Old Bartender couldn't catch his breath and coughed sharply.
Tony's brow furrowed tightly. He was silent for a moment before speaking with a complex expression, "Your health... has it really gotten this bad?"
The Old Bartender coughed, waving his hand dismissively.
"Listen to me, your body's functions are deteriorating too quickly. Quit smoking, and especially quit drinking! You drink way too much. A stable life has given you plenty of time to drink, but you're committing slow suicide!" Tony urged in a low voice, knowing it was useless but trying nonetheless.
"Or I can have someone inject you with Dionysium, then you can drink all you want! As much as you want!"
"No way, no way. I don't want that stuff injected into me. Hey, that damn stuff from the Resurrection Spring severely erodes a human's senses. What's the point of having a long life if I can barely even taste the wine? It's meaningless." The Old Bartender smiled, stubbornly refusing.
Tony's expression grew even more complicated as he looked at this old man who could still kill just two years ago, now reduced to this state. Admittedly, the Old Bartender had brought this on himself. After settling down, not only did all his old injuries surface, but he also became addicted to alcohol, spending most of his days in a drunken stupor.
Tony had put the Old Bartender in the position of butler with this in mind.
"If I had said this to you in the past, you old coot would have already punched me in the face..." Tony took a deep breath and sighed.
The Old Bartender was the only person who treated him normally. The only one.
As Tony's power grew and his status rose dramatically, everyone else's attitude had subtly changed. This change became even more pronounced after he took on the mantle of the new Sorcerer Supreme.
Only the Old Bartender, this seemingly super unreliable old man, was still the same. Their conversations rarely went three sentences before they started arguing, then communicating with their fists, ending with bruises and swollen faces.
Of all the people here, only the Old Bartender still saw Tony as that foolish idiot, that dumb kid who had just awakened his powers, his mind filled with hatred and rage, doing things recklessly.
A certain idiot had once grinned foolishly as he barged into a Vampire Bar, kidnapping an old codger living on borrowed time, all to get a so-called "Master Mechanic" he didn't even really need.
Thinking back on it now, he had been so young, so unbelievably stupid.
Everyone, to a greater or lesser extent, had changed. In their eyes, Tony was no longer that clueless Metahuman, but the Guardian of a planet.
They had all changed. They had become slightly more reverent, adopting a formality and empty smiles that Tony didn't want to see, creating a distance between them that felt like a chasm despite their proximity.
That subtle barrier was annoying. It really, really annoyed Tony.
But only the Old Bartender, that foul-mouthed old bastard, interacted with Tony just as he always had. They'd start with mutual insults, move on to fists, and end up bruised and swollen.
This was how they communicated, and it had been this way for years.
Only the Old Bartender was left.
Everyone had changed, except for one stubborn old man clinging to the past.
But this fearless old man was about to die.
"I'll use magic to regulate your body. I can help you extend..."
Before Tony could finish, the Old Bartender interrupted him.
"No need, Tony. This isn't like you. Where did that carefree guy go? If I really wanted to live, there are plenty of ways. Even without Dionysium, I can use all sorts of high-tech serums from A.R.G.U.S. whenever I want. Not to mention they secretly obtained the blood of the newly awakened Captain America and have made huge progress in their serum research..."
The Old Bartender coughed a few times. The old man who once feared nothing had become as frail as any ordinary elder.
Tony remained silent for a long time. The two of them stood face to face, like two banks of a river, forever separated by the ceaseless flow that would never circle back.
"Hmph, I get it. If you want to die, then go die. When you do, I'll burn a stick of incense for you," Tony snorted, looking at the Old Bartender out of the corner of his eye.
The Old Bartender grinned. Tony noticed he had lost another tooth.
Tony knew why the Old Bartender was doing this, but by tacit agreement, neither of them said it.
The Vampire Kingdom, the driving force of the Old Bartender's existence, was gone, completely buried by Tony's family.
The few scattered survivors were being mercilessly hunted down by A.R.G.U.S. across the globe.
Countless Undead Warriors injected with Dionysium charged on the front lines, led by a few key figures, burying the last embers of the Vampire Kingdom.
With his pillar of spiritual support gone, the man himself began to fail.
In the past, all of the Old Bartender's relatives had been slaughtered by vampires. Now, the Old Bartender had witnessed the vampires' demise with his own eyes, and the fireworks that lit up the sky had been partly his own doing.
Exterminating the vampires wasn't just Tony's idea; it was also for the Old Bartender.
No one knew when the old man would finally break. Given the chance to fulfill his lifelong wish, Tony wouldn't hold back, and the Old Bartender would pursue it with even more ferocity until the final goal was achieved.
They had succeeded, and the Old Bartender had crumbled just as quickly, like a towering skyscraper suddenly losing its foundation, vanishing from the ground up.
Tony could clearly feel the Time Force constantly fading from the Old Bartender's body.
He had many ways to save the Old Bartender. Forget low-level methods like injecting a serum; Tony was even willing to risk using the Time Stone once to forcibly turn back time and restore the Old Bartender to his prime.
But he couldn't. If he did, the stubborn old man, who had already lived long enough, would surely commit suicide without a second thought.
Night fell. Many faces unseen for a long time were gathered together once more. In the magnificent hall, all sorts of rare foods and wines were laid out on tables that stretched from one end of the hall to the other, with a few gaps left for people to pass through.
Everyone chatted with each other, recounting their experiences. Laughter and sorrow mingled in the air as exquisite wines were drunk like water.
Even the little queen, Liana, drank too much, deliberately choosing not to use magic to sober up. She staggered around, looking for people to challenge to a drinking contest.
She ended up getting entangled with an equally drunk Quicksilver. The two youths, each holding a bottle, shouted loudly, eventually breaking into an argument and drinking themselves into a stupor.
Amidst this lively scene, the Old Bartender rarely drank. He just held a bottle, occasionally raising it to his lips as if taking a sip, though in reality, he only touched the alcohol with his lips, closing his eyes to savor the aroma.
He couldn't drink anymore. Tonight, he didn't want to drink either; he just wanted to watch the others.
He watched as people gathered here from all corners of the world. There was the Talon from Gotham City, Amanda, a woman who prided herself on being elite, yet had been kidnapped and replaced by Raven—an incident she considered a profound humiliation.
There were Mutants from the rival Brotherhood of Mutants and the X-Men. Others, like Pyro John, arrived midway and joined in without a second thought.
There were also Max and Betty. Their physiques made them difficult to defeat with alcohol, but they still excitedly joined the fray.
From nothing to something, from few to many—all of this had happened under his watch.
For some reason, the Old Bartender felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He even started raising his bottle more frequently. His messy hair sat unruly on his head, dampened by the occasional splash of liquor.
He casually ran a hand through his hair. His eyes, drunk without a single drop of alcohol, grew hazy. He looked at the chaotic hall and grinned like a child.
A single, glistening tear quietly trickled from the corner of his eye, unnoticed by anyone.
(end of chapter)
