Marvel: Emotion Farming System

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The clock had hit 6 as the lights of the most expensive mansion in Malibu lit up like a starry night. It was the usual affair, but today was something different. It was the birthday of the Mansion’s owner.

Tony Stark stepped out of the shower, water dripping on the spotless, polished marble, as he stopped in front of the mirror that was basically a wall after putting on a robe.

From the whirring reactor in his chest, which blinked a little after each rotation, a spread of blackish lines extended into his body like a cracked web. He placed his thumb on a beeper-looking device; a needle pricked his skin, drawing blood.

It was a sensation he had grown used to over time now, along with the number displayed on said device.

Palladium concentration—85%

"Damn, I look sharp." Tony let out a deep sigh after staring at himself for 15 minutes straight and finally stepped out into his room.

He could watch the ocean waves rolling in as the clouds were a mix of orange and pink while the sun started to set.

Tony had a newly tailored suit that had just been flown in with a private jet, but his eyes were looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It had been a while since he had looked at the view outside of his own bedroom.

Watching the sun go down by the agonizing minute, he poured himself a drink. Nothing crazy, just a glass of something that could feed a family of four for a year.

He sipped on the drink, plopping down on the red single-seater sofa made specifically for him by the world’s leading furniture maker or whatever.

"Jarvis, find me something interesting." He tapped at the glass table in front of him, making a screen wake up. A drink without entertainment was bland.

"As you wish, sir." Jarvis’s voice echoed in the room as multiple windows and panels started to open and close on the table at blinding speeds.

That was until it stopped on one website; the website opened in dark mode by default.

"This website has been trending for several topics today, sir," Jarvis said.

"More trending than me?" Tony scrutinized the unassuming website with one eye closed.

"Not at the moment, sir, but I believe that wi-"

"They are second place, end of story." Tony cut in, looking closer at the webpage.

It seemed that Jarvis had brought him a manga? Why would he do that?

Well, the options were to read this or think about his eventual death. The choice was obvious.

"What is this about?" Tony tapped on the read button. Jarvis had already paid for it. "You know what, don’t answer that. I’ll just find out."

He studied the cover page. A kid sitting at their desk wearing a yellow hoodie. There wasn’t a clear indication of what the story was about from this alone. There was a lamp, books, and the kid was hunched over the desk.

Was this about studying? He hoped not. The art was nice and clear though.

But since this was the second place, after him, it better be fabulous.

Tony scrolled to the next page.

A teacher passed around the week’s school newspaper, kids laughing, one talking about art, and finally someone addressing the point.

The four-panel manga in a 4th grade newspaper. Tony looked at the manga, a small chuckle on his lips. The art was expressive, but the story caught him off guard.

’A manga about drawing manga? Who would’ve thought of that?’ Tony’s eyebrows rose. He was a bit intrigued when the girl who drew it said she didn’t put in any effort.

He had expected it to be a motivational beginning of a small child who became a big-time artist in the future, but the one on the screen was a lot different from that.

She was the type that always poured in all her effort and then tried to act cool later.

The confidence, the cockiness, and self-assuredness- it felt nice to read it.

"I know this kid." He said, involuntarily.

"You do, sir?" Jarvis asked.

Tony waved him to silence as Kyomoto arrived on the scene. And looking at this purely from artistry, she had Fujino beat; however, that was all.

So this was gonna be a manga rivalry where Fujino would beat Kyomoto in both art and story, or will her rival also evolve, and they will end up having this battle forever?

"Well, at least it isn’t listed as shounen."

And, just looking legit wasn’t anything. He thought back to Hammer’s attempt at making his suit. As legit as that looked, he was still 20, no, 30 years behind. Still, that had affected Fujino; of course it did. Everyone who praised her before started to look at the new chump that had arrived.

’Annoying little pests, I tell you.’ Tony had been through similar situations.

At MIT, there was a genius at every turn. If you could do one thing, there was always another that could do it better. That’s just how the world was.

But where were they now when Tony had privatized world peace? Yeah, nowhere.

"That’s how you do it." He watched Fujino learning, getting books, practicing, reading tips on how to improve storytelling.

The more he read, the more he saw the art of storytelling laid down before him. It was as interesting as a blueprint to a suit.

Before, all he ever went to the cinema for was the press conferences and kissing the heroines and models as the movie ran on in the background.

But he watched Fujino put in the work, day, night, at home, at school, at the library, even when her family watched TV, and during vacations, she didn’t stop a single day.

No matter if it was a cold or a hot day, if it was a storm or anything, her practice books piled up as she stayed hunched over at the desk. It didn’t matter what anyone thought; it didn’t matter if they called her a weirdo.

’Who isn’t a weirdo? Well, aside from me.’ Any sufficiently passionate person could be called a weirdo by that logic.

And it wasn’t like what others thought should change anyone, because people change tunes real fast; he knew that better than anyone.

As he had expected, Fujino continued to draw until the sixth-grade newspaper arrived. Once again, the two four-panel manga were placed side by side.

And once again, Kyomoto’s art was better. But a story didn’t rely on art alone, and he couldn’t see that understanding in Fujino’s eyes.

"I give up..."

Tony stopped for a moment and sighed. This wasn’t the place to stop, but he knew Fujino wouldn’t stop. Ask him why, and he wouldn’t be able to answer it, but he just knew.

’She’s just... having her downtime. This kid’ll be back up in no time.’ He scrolled further, watching her mingle once again with friends, practice karate, and watch TV at home with her family.

But when she picked up the ten or so practice books, planning on throwing them out, Tony fell into a deep silence. This wasn’t stopping; it was escaping.

And in this situation, one had no hope of escaping. No one, especially one without passion or love for their craft, would spend years of their life doing something and then stop doing it because things didn’t work out.

’I still have trust in this little firecracker. Maybe her rival would come confront her?’ He mused.

Graduation day arrived, and Fujino was sent to Kyomoto’s house to deliver the diploma. She walked through the unlocked main door, and when she turned into the hallway, she saw stacks of practice books leading to a room in the far corner.

"So, it wasn’t just some talented kid, huh." Tony shook his head; the rival Fujino had also worked for years to get her skills.

’Sore loser.’ He chuckled as she drew a four-panel strip mocking Kyomoto that slipped and went into the room through the door gap. ’Deserved.’

Fujino ran away in panic, and someone followed her. It was her rival, Kyomoto.

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