The dinner table at Madison Restaurant, bathed in the soft glow of the city skyline, became an impromptu operating room where Dr. Stephen Strange intended to perform a character autopsy on his rival. He sat across from Su Yi like an arrogant peacock, his posture radiating judgment, his gaze cold and clinical.
The atmosphere was thick with tension, far exceeding the casual animosity of a typical rivalry. Strange wasn't just competing for Christine; he was fighting to defend the fundamental truth of his own universe: that merit and hard-won skill defined superiority, not some unearned, foreign privilege.
"By your appearance, you must be an Easterner, right?" Strange began, his tone less a question and more a statement of observed fact, a way of highlighting Su Yi's outsider status.
"Yes, I am from an ancient Eastern country. Is there a problem with that, Doctor?" Su Yi responded evenly, taking a slow sip of water, refusing to rush or be rattled.
Strange leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "No problem. Only context. May I be so bold as to ask, why did you come to this city? Education? Business?"
"My parents passed away some time ago," Su Yi explained, maintaining a calm, slightly melancholic expression. "My only remaining relative, my Grandpa, was worried about me, so he decided to relocate and brought me here. Now, I am simply continuing my studies."
Strange offered a hollow, professional sympathy that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that. It seems you don't plan on returning to your home country, then." The implication was clear: You have no roots here; you are transient.
Christine, who had been watching the exchange with growing discomfort, placed a calming hand on Su Yi's arm. "Stephen, that is enough. Su, I'm truly sorry you went through such painful things."
Su Yi gave her a warm smile, using the moment to deepen their connection while further exposing Strange's lack of emotional intelligence.
"It's fine, Christine. It's in the past. I often miss them, but I no longer feel great pain. My parents taught me that life is for living and building new chapters, not dwelling on sorrow." Christine's impression of Su Yi improved instantly; he was resilient, optimistic, and profoundly stable—qualities Strange conspicuously lacked.
Strange, realizing he had failed to wound or intimidate, shifted his attack to professional metrics—the domain where he believed he was untouchable.
"You mentioned you are still in school. What's your major?"
"Computer Engineering," Su Yi replied.
"A good major," Strange conceded, dismissing it with a flick of his wrist. "It's currently in high demand; you should easily find a job, and the salary, though modest, won't be low. Normally speaking, you should be able to earn about a week's worth of my salary in a year, perhaps less, depending on your firm."
Strange's pride was entirely wrapped up in his income, his prestige, and the fact that he was the top neurosurgeon—a king in a domain built purely on skill. He waited for Su Yi to flinch or look intimidated.
Su Yi simply leaned forward, his expression changing from respectful to casually dismissive.
"Oh, making money?" Su Yi paused, letting the silence hang heavy. "I'm not very interested in making money, Doctor. I own 20% of Stark Industries' shares. I mostly just wait for the dividends to drop into my account. Studying computer science is purely because I'm interested in the field, not for employment prospects."
The effect of the statement was immediate and devastating. Strange recoiled slightly, the confidence draining from his face to be replaced by cold, intellectual fury.
Strange's net worth, calculated in the tens of millions—perhaps reaching the low billions if all assets were tallied—was a source of immense personal pride. He knew the market value of every major corporation; he knew the scale of wealth required to move those needles.
"Twenty percent of Stark Industries shares?" Strange scoffed, a genuine laugh escaping him, but it was tight and humorless.
"Mr. Su, your lie is simply too amateurish. Even if the company has diversified from weaponry, its market capitalization still hovers close to a trillion dollars. Twenty percent is two hundred billion dollars. Shares of that magnitude, particularly in a key defense contractor, are never sold to an unknown foreigner, not even for interest in the field. They are controlled by institutional investors, Tony Stark himself, and board members."
He finished with a venomous smile. "I will expose your lie right now."
"I am close friends with Tony Stark, and I simply purchased some of the shares he made available," Su Yi stated calmly, watching Strange's internal turmoil with satisfaction. "I don't particularly care if you believe me, Dr. Strange. I don't feel the need to prove my bank account to an acquaintance. But I promised Christine honesty."
Christine looked from one man to the other, her skepticism momentarily clouding her judgment of Su Yi. Strange's logic was sound; the number was impossibly large.
"Su," Christine said gently, "I have a very good impression of you. But if you really want to get to know me, I hope to get to know the real you, too. I don't care about the money, but I do care about the truth."
Su Yi sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't wanted to drag Tony into this childish feud, but Christine's integrity was more important than preserving the purity of the date.
"You are right, Christine. I apologize for forcing you to deal with this drama. If you insist on me proving it, I can contact Tony Stark right now. He'll be thrilled to speak to his biggest fan."
Strange's jaw tightened. "Go ahead. I will expose your bluff, and we can finally continue our discussion without this distracting fantasy."
Su Yi pulled out his phone and initiated a direct video call. It rang twice before Tony Stark's grinning, pizza-stuffed face appeared on the screen.
"Oh, my dear Su," Tony's voice boomed, loud enough for the entire restaurant section to hear.
"After you brought a bunch of inexplicable, magic-wielding psychos to my house and made a mess, have you finally decided to call me to apologize?" Tony was casually scrolling through Strange's digital profile that J.A.R.V.I.S. had provided, his eyes briefly widening at the surgeon's list of credentials.
"Actually, it's not an apology," Su Yi said, enjoying the look of dumbstruck horror on Strange's face.
"Don't tell me you need my help again, Su. I'm not your employee! I'm an Avenger!" Tony complained, taking a massive bite of pizza.
"Of course, I'm not asking for your help," Su Yi lied smoothly. "I'm just having dinner with a doctor—the famous Dr. Strange—and one of his female colleagues. He suspects I'm a liar, so he wants you to prove my credentials."
Tony immediately burst into laughter. "He's right to suspect you; you're definitely a liar! If possible, tell him to call the police and have you arrested, Su, before you buy up too much of my retirement fund."
"So, why exactly are you calling me, then?" Tony asked, still chewing.
"I'm having dinner with a very beautiful, very intelligent woman, and his jealousy is disrupting the evening," Su Yi explained.
"Tony, interested in making an appearance? If you're willing to come down here, I will personally cook you some authentic, high-end Eastern cuisine sometime next week—the kind that takes three days of preparation, not that instant garbage you eat."
Tony Stark, whose life revolved around novelty and high-stakes rewards, suddenly stopped eating. The prospect of a genuine, home-cooked, complicated meal from a man whose personal life was as intriguing as Su Yi's was an irresistible, bizarre offer.
"To save you some face, and frankly, because that offer is intriguing, I'll make the trip!" Tony said, wiping his greasy hands on a napkin. "Where are you?"
"Madison Restaurant. I'll text you the table number."
"On my way. And let me state beforehand, I'm very picky about food. If it's not Michelin-star level, I'm sending it back." Tony disconnected the video call.
The silence at the table was profound. Strange was breathing heavily, his entire body rigid with shock. He had just witnessed a level of familiarity—and bribery—with Tony Stark that completely validated Su Yi's claim. The man he sought to expose as a pauper and a fraud was not only a fellow billionaire but was a personal friend to the man he secretly idolized.
Christine, meanwhile, placed her hand back on Su Yi's arm, this time with genuine warmth and conviction. "I... I just found it a bit hard to believe. I shouldn't have doubted you. Thank you for being so patient."
"It's fine, Christine," Su Yi said, meeting her gaze calmly. "I understand. I've been studying and never made a public appearance, so it's normal to have some doubts. And now that the tool person is on his way, we can continue our date."
For the first time in his life, Strange felt a raw, sickening sense of defeat that had nothing to do with surgical failure. This was a complete loss of status.
However, Dr. Stephen Strange was defined by his pride, and his pride would not surrender based on external factors like money.
He's richer than me, perhaps a friend of Stark, so what? Strange thought, his mind racing to recover. Money is external. It does not represent inherent ability.
He decided he would wait for Tony, if only to save face. He would not leave this table until he had found a flaw in Su Yi that was internal—a flaw in his intellect, his logic, or his character. The battle was not over; it was merely shifting ground.
The arrival of Tony Stark will escalate the confrontation, forcing Strange to either accept defeat or challenge Su Yi on a purely intellectual level.