Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 5767 - 4790: X Royal Family: Rebirth (End)

In spite of this, the mutants did not present excessive demands, primarily because the opposing side possessed little of value to showcase. Beyond the lifting of sanctions and the establishment of formal diplomatic ties, their requests were limited to resources. They did not even dare to ask for personnel, fearing potential sabotage.

Nevertheless, compelling the world's dominant power to yield did serve to vent the mutants' pent-up frustration and significantly boost their morale. Following Charles's successful purge of internal informants, the entirety of Clarkia Island experienced a heightened sense of unity.

The virtually limitless maritime rights conferred numerous advantages. In addition to maritime trade, an increasing number of merchant vessels opted to navigate through these waters. The seas surrounding Clarkia Island were declared absolutely safe zones. The mutants themselves abstained from piracy and naturally disallowed any other pirate activities, thus eliminating the risk of merchant ship hijackings. Furthermore, owing to the mutants' neutral stance, even warships were permitted to dock for resupply purposes.

Clarkia Island, with its inherently picturesque landscape, saw Erik spearheading the mutants' construction efforts, establishing a comprehensive array of supporting facilities. These included plentiful accommodations, vibrant bars, and exciting casinos, transforming the location into the sailor's paradise they had envisioned.

No sensible individual would dare to instigate trouble on mutant-controlled territory; even intoxicated patrons could be swiftly subdued. As anticipated, the island evolved into a haven for clandestine dealings.

These illicit transactions, it must be clarified, did not encompass narcotics or human trafficking, as such activities were rigorously prohibited on the island. The dealings primarily involved business discussions among mercenaries and their intermediaries, alongside stateless commercial spies, smugglers, and fugitives from various nations.

This situation presented both benefits and drawbacks. While these individuals were not precisely upstanding citizens, their presence on the island meant they could not easily escape. Clarkia Island, while not obligated to offer sanctuary, could leverage them as negotiation tools with other countries. For instance, when two Chinese fugitives sought refuge there, Charles successfully exchanged them with SWORD for substantial benefits.

Furthermore, these individuals were not coerced into arriving. The majority were individuals pursued relentlessly, seeking a remote haven far from civilization to evade capture, and they chose to take a gamble by coming here. Those deemed valuable were bartered by Clarkia, while the rest were simply left to their own devices, with the understanding that their physical conditions would not permit them to remain indefinitely.

Additionally, the island's tax-free policy was implemented with utmost effectiveness, establishing it as the preeminent tax-free trade zone on Earth. A multitude of corporations were eager to conduct business here, with some even undertaking special flights solely for shopping excursions. Although permanent residency was not permitted, making one or two annual trips could yield considerable profits.

Another significant advancement was the successful development of an extract from the Clarkia Flower. This was no longer confined to its rudimentary herbal form but was ingeniously transformed into a medicinal compound identified as 'Clarkia Glycoside.'

The drug trials concluded more rapidly than anticipated. When the initial production run was finalized, Stark was still a guest on Clarkia Island. Consequently, he became the inaugural recipient of the medication. Although he had not fallen ill during this period, he still exhibited lingering weakness, indicating that the island's influence persisted.

Stark regarded the small vial in Shiller’s hand with a measure of skepticism, inquiring, "Why is it an oral solution?"

"The ingredients achieve optimal synergy with alcohol," Shiller responded. "Extensive experimentation has demonstrated that an alcohol-based solution yields superior efficacy. There is also an alcohol-free variant designed to counteract allergic reactions, formulated as a children's tonic. Would you prefer that one?"

"No need," Stark replied, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of his hand. "I am perfectly capable of consuming alcohol. Proceed."

Shiller then presented the small, brown bottle to Stark. Stark accepted it, casting a cursory glance, but unable to decipher the Chinese inscription detailing the ingredients, he promptly removed the cap, preparing to ingest the contents.

Shiller's hand paused in mid-air as Stark directly peeled back the rubber seal and tilted the bottle, pouring the liquid directly into his mouth. The bottle contained a minimal amount of fluid, which was consumed in less than a second.

"Pfft!!!!!!!"

Within half a second, the liquid was forcefully expelled from his mouth.

Stark’s countenance contorted as if he had sustained a physical blow, or perhaps a vulnerable area had been struck, his facial features contorting with remarkable elasticity. After a chaotic ricochet, reminiscent of billiard balls colliding, they coalesced into a singular expression of distress.

"Ugh—!!!!"

Stark truly retched, expelling the remnants of his lunch. He stumbled towards the restroom, rinsing his mouth and washing his face, even resorting to drinking unfiltered water to quench his thirst.

Upon his return, Shiller had just finished cleaning the spillage on the floor. Stark slumped onto the sofa, appearing utterly drained, and lamented, "How can this concoction... how can it taste so utterly vile..."

"Cease your dramatic pronouncements," Shiller advised. "Is it not merely the characteristic flavor of traditional Chinese medicine?"

Stark, lacking the energy for further debate, appeared mentally incapacitated, his mind rendered blank by the experience. After a brief interval, he gestured weakly.

Shiller presented Stark with a package of liquid, attempting to hand it over. Stark inquired with grave concern, "Did you consume any yourself?"

Shiller responded with a shake of his head, "I am unaffected by the island; why would I drink it?"

"You drink it," Stark stated curtly.

Shiller let out a cold snort. It became apparent that Stark would not partake unless he did. Thus, Shiller seized a bottle, removed the metallic seal, inserted a straw through the pliable rubber cap, and drew deeply.

"Pfft!!! Cough, cough, cough, cough!!!!"

Shiller, too, expelled the medicine. Fortunately, he did not vomit, perhaps due to the suppression of the gray mist, but his mind went momentarily blank, causing the entire High Tower to jolt unnaturally.

"What is happening?" Complaints reverberated within the High Tower. "Greed, what are you up to now? Can you cease relentlessly testing our mental fortitude?!"

They assumed Greed was orchestrating another grand stunt, perhaps crashing into something within the Psychic Battlefield. Superego swiftly intervened but, after a brief memory scan, remarked with a sigh, "He merely ingested a bottle of medicine."

This incident vividly illustrated the profound unpalatability of the oral liquid, potent enough to disrupt the mental barriers of the High Tower – as if a Superman had been dissolved within its contents!

Shiller settled opposite Stark. After a moment of contemplation, he began to assess the flavor. He recalled his childhood summers, often sweltering, during which some children would succumb to heatstroke. At such times, nurses would distribute a medicinal concoction known as Huoxiang Zhengqi Water, reputedly effective against both the onset and prevention of heatstroke.

Upon reaching adulthood, Shiller discerned that Huoxiang Zhengqi Water existed in two iterations. In certain regions, it was designated as Huoxiang Zhengqi Liquid, while in others, the naming convention remained the same, with both referred to as Huoxiang Zhengqi Water. The crucial distinction lay in the older formulation, which incorporated alcohol.

Huoxiang possessed an inherently bitter taste, and the addition of alcohol rendered it both bitter and pungent—a flavor profile utterly beyond description. Once, driven by curiosity, Shiller sampled a bottle and, from that experience onward, developed a profound aversion to all oral liquids, fearing them almost as much as broccoli.

This particular medicine, it seemed, was exponentially more repulsive than the older, alcohol-infused Huoxiang Zhengqi Water, perhaps by a factor of twenty. Curiously, the alcoholic kick had been entirely omitted, rendering it incapable of dulling the senses; yet, the pungency was perfectly preserved, just sufficient to jolt the nerves and heighten alertness.

Then commenced the main ordeal: an indescribably profound bitterness. It transcended the very limits of human gustatory perception, instilling the sensation that a mere sip would absolve one of all worldly transgressions, even when consumed out of sheer avarice.

More disconcerting still was the subtle undercurrent of sweetness, which offered no solace. Instead, it evoked the harsh, industrial tang of high-concentration vodka, provoking a visceral gag reflex and activating the brain's innate defense mechanisms.

Shiller remained seated, a shadow of despair crossing his features. He possessed knowledge of Chinese characters. Upon encountering the character "Omin," he should have exercised caution—a cultural tendency among Chinese people to imbue names with auspicious intentions. Typically, any medicine labeled with descriptors like "fragrant," "sweet," or "tasty" was invariably a lost cause concerning its palatability.

Evidently, this particular character embodied the romantic spirit of the Chinese people, signifying immense hope. As for the underlying reasons for such profound hope, it was best not to inquire.

"I shall not attempt to persuade you to drink it," Shiller declared. "In any case, the island's construction is nearing completion, and our departure is imminent. Therefore, it is perfectly fine if you choose not to consume it."

"It would have been futile regardless," Stark replied weakly. "It is not that I am unwilling to drink it; I simply cannot stomach it. This substance elicits a complete rejection response from my body, even causing a slight disruption to the energy flow within the Ark Reactor."

At that precise moment, Strange made his entrance. He, too, had been monitoring developments in China and, upon observing the row of oral liquids, deduced that the medicine had arrived. He retrieved a bottle, preparing to ingest it.

"Wait!" Stark called out to him. Perhaps this stemmed from a "dying man's last kindness." While something generally unpleasant might serve as a prank among friends, something so abominably unpalatable, bordering on apocalyptic, could incite genuine concern for a companion's well-being.

However, Strange acted swiftly. He inserted a straw, placed it in his mouth, and drank. Unsurprisingly, he too was overcome by nausea.

After a short interval, Strange slumped onto the sofa. Maintaining his composure and appearance was paramount to him; he typically maintained an upright posture, whether standing or seated, even on a plush sofa. This time, however, he presented a truly disheveled, almost defeated, appearance.

Subsequently, Steve entered. Witnessing the scene, he surmised they were engaged in some form of theatrical performance once more. He, too, reached for a bottle of the oral liquid, prompting the other two to hastily intervene.

"Please, don't drink it!" Stark pleaded. "Uncle Rogers, I am begging you!"

Steve expressed a degree of astonishment. He gazed at the diminutive vial of oral liquid and remarked, "Tony, I understand your palate is quite sensitive, and you seldom take medication, but it's truly not to that extreme... Glug!!!!"

Two minutes subsequently, Steve found himself seated on the sofa, a look of bewilderment on his face. The manner in which he clutched the medicine bottle was indistinguishable from how one might hold a grenade. His expression conveyed a clear conviction that this concoction was, in some peculiar way, more formidable than a grenade.

Next in line was Bucky, who also indicated a desire for the medicine. This time, Stark himself intervened to dissuade him. Bucky was left astounded: Could something possess such an atrocious taste that it would compel Stark to set aside past animosities and intervene? Was it genuinely possible to perish from ingesting it?

With considerable wisdom, Bucky abstained from drinking it, as did Natasha. Both managed to elude this particular peril. Shortly thereafter, the Spider-Man from the Main Universe arrived to bid farewell, as their departure was imminent. Upon hearing that new medicine was prepared, he expressed a desire to sample a bottle.

On this occasion, however, no one attempted to stop him, largely because Spider-Man possessed a formidable ability known as "Spider-sense." As anticipated, he exhibited no pronounced reaction upon taking hold of the medicine bottle. Yet, precisely as he was about to bring it to his lips, his Spider-sense emitted a "buzz," prompting Spider-Man to instinctively hurl the bottle away.

A chorus of cheers erupted. Never before had everyone present envied Spider-Man's extraordinary superpower quite so intensely.

"Is this not, in fact, poison?" Spider-Man inquired with suspicion.

"Nay, it is merely abominably unpalatable," Shiller responded. "I strongly advise against sampling it."

"No, I must procure it for my aunt; I am compelled to try it," Spider-Man declared.

Having spoken, he bravely took a small sip. Remarkably, he was the sole individual among them who did not immediately spit it out; he even managed to swallow it. A collective gasp of shock rippled through the group.

"It truly is dreadful... cough, cough!" Spider-Man managed to say, his voice carrying a slight tremor. "But in actuality, it's manageable, cough, cough... preferable to... preferable to a hospital visit..."

A profound silence descended upon the onlookers. Stark tightened his grip on the bottle, a realization dawning upon him, mirroring that of everyone else: while the taste might not have been intentionally crafted for unpleasantness, it was likely left unmodified with a specific purpose – ensuring the medicine would reach those who possessed a genuine need for it.

"Take all of them," Stark commanded, proffering the entire package of medicine to him. "I extend my wishes for your continued robust health."

"My gratitude, and the same to you."