"Don't you think you are being a little too much? Doctor."
Having eaten and drunk to her fill, Natasha, on returning to the fishing spot, stared at Shiller, her tone brimming with dissatisfaction.
"How did you find the dish?" Shiller seemed to be in a different dimension as he talked to himself, "The waking time was too short, so it wasn't crispy enough. The flame wasn't as evenly heated as an oven. I didn't think much of it. But I believe you can give me another chance to change this impression, don't you agree, madam?"
Natasha took a deep breath, deciding again not to speak to Shiller. No sooner had she made this decision that she heard Shiller say, "You're angry, not because I unexpectedly expressed my interest in you, but because I used you as a shield, because my attentions to you weren't genuine."
Natasha was taken aback; she wanted to argue, but she didn't know where to start. If she said she wasn't angry because of what he did, wouldn't that validate her belief that Shiller's attentions were genuine? Then her lack of response would seem very rude, like a person who neither accepts nor rejects.
But to say that she was angry because of this doesn't quite add up either. Why should she compare herself to the fish that she and Shiller caught? Should she also compare who was genuinely smitten and who was a mere substitute?
Natasha tried to inhale the crisp, cold air, hoping that the warmth and scent of her hometown could make her more lucid. Before heading to the ice cave that they visited in the morning, Natasha finally chose to speak up.
"I am acting entirely out of professional integrity. I need to make sure you won't dissect a certain single female who is very important to us due to your personal interest. You have to assure me of that, doctor."
"As I mentioned, I only cast my bait for a certain kind of fish," Shiller shook his head and said, "If the fish doesn't bite, I will not rudely reach into the water and catch it by force."
"But we all know..." Natasha paused mid-sentence because what she intended to say next was, "we all know that she would definitely bite."
The agent suddenly realized her conclusion was irrational. Since Shiller was here with her, what means could he possibly use to catch that poor fish?
Even if we set that aside, Shiller's mouth at least is with her now; that's his most powerful weapon. Besides this, what other bait could definitely reel a fish in? If every fish got hooked like this, would that fish still be important to them?
If it wasn't a guaranteed catch and depended on the fish's alertness and intelligence, then what right did Natasha have to condemn Shiller's fishing behavior? After all, what he caught wasn't really a mindless fish; ordinary people should have the ability to judge rationally.
Natasha sank into deep thought again. So much so that she didn't notice Shiller's barely discernible expression of joy as he slowly lowered the fishing line and cast the bait below the water surface.
In the bedroom of Hell's Kitchen Clinic, Loki found a sketchbook.
She never knew that Shiller could draw, or rather, she thought Shiller wouldn't be the type interested in art, but Loki loved art.
Though the Asgardians were always considered brutes, their artistic achievements were not insignificant. Perhaps due to their abundant living environment, their art was always grand, carrying a splendid sense of aesthetic.
Therefore Loki had a special liking for things that were intricate, dazzling, and overly decorative. To draw a parallel with art on Earth, Loki preferred the Rococo style.
Loki opened the first page of the sketchbook, where a strikingly beautiful landscape, akin to the New York City skyline, was drawn. The sun had just appeared from between the buildings, and the strong light made one slightly dizzy even on paper.
Next was a street scene. The street set was very ordinary, just like the common streets between Manhattan apartment buildings, but Loki felt inexplicably that the scene was somewhat familiar.
Then there was the bridge of the Fairy Palace, which startled Loki. However, she guessed that if the human artist could really come to Asgard, the Fairy Palace would definitely not be overlooked as a subject for sketching.
The bridge was beautifully drawn using charcoal. The dark areas were extremely dark, so all the white parts of the paper became the carriers of the light, dazzlingly bright.
This reminded Loki of the time she stood at the beginning of the bridge watching Odin and Thor's retreating figures, thinking of the things she once owned but seldom explored.
Loki was lost in her memories, so much so that she wasn't present in her current reality. Her hand unconsciously continued turning pages, but the drawing underneath brought her back to reality; it was a portrait of Loki.
It was a side profile of her, also sketched with charcoal, with only a hint of green in the eyes, thereby making the eyes look especially green.
Loki stared at her own image on the paper, and was reminded of a thought she nearly forgot. When she used to be the disliked Second Prince, the court painter had drawn portraits of Thor and her, but in the end, only the heroic and powerful portrait of Thor was displayed.
Loki understood very well why this was so; it was not just because she was less favored, but her image was not appreciated by Asgardians. The figure within the frame they preferred was one of tremendous spirit, handsome and hunky, ideally inspiring a fighting spirit upon sight.
Loki was clearly not of that mold, or rather, she was the complete opposite. She appeared somewhat somber, her face etched with intelligence. In the eyes of the Asgardians, she looked like a coward who would only try to sneak an attack from behind.
Loki had long accepted the fact that her appearance was not appreciated. Even though she had transformed into a goddess, she was not particularly attractive, but always carried a certain melancholy and decadent ambiance.
Humans appreciate pure and unblemished girls, but their standards for women who could stir their primal desires had remained the same for thousands of years: hot, sexy, beautiful. Loki believed this could be because such women were strong enough to bear offspring in primitive societies, so this aesthetic was engraved in male human genes.
Why would Shiller draw her? That was Loki's immediate response.
Unspoken, Shiller has plenty of models at his disposal. Even if only females are considered, there are all kinds of beautiful women among the superheroes he has encountered. Why must it be her?
Natasha, sat on the fishing stool, changed her bait once more. Her frustration was almost etched on her face. Shiller felt somewhat amused by this, then said: "Just ask whatever you want to."
Natasha was contemplating if this was another verbal trap, but she found no downtime to think, for there was a myriad of questions awaiting answers, how could she resist the chance to get one?
"Why did you suddenly..." Natasha squinted, speaking as if she were drunk: "You're not some teenage boy. Surely you didn't just realize you should find a female bed companion?"
"Alright, that might sound inappropriate, but what have you been doing till now?" Natasha asked frantically.
"Have I ever told you about the situation in that previous world?" Shiller continued at his own leisurely pace, showing no signs of feeling rushed or flustered. His composed demeanor compared to her franticness made Natasha want to rip his face off.
"You briefly mentioned that there were no superheroes in that world."
"That's right, it was like that. Or you could say that world had no daily phenomena that you might take for granted, like magic, mutants or superpowers. That world only had ordinary people," Shiller replied.
"So what?"
"That simply means that world only had ordinary human females." Shiller gestured with one hand, emphasizing, "A majority of untrained ordinary women could hardly outdo their ordinary male counterparts in physical strength, let alone me."
"So?"
"This means that once I decided to kill them, they had no way of fighting back."
Natasha was still somewhat confused, she didn't quite understand the logical relationship here, and so Shiller had no choice but to make it clearer.
"But this world is different if I don't use my intellect, nor the abilities provided by the grey mist and solely rely on my physical strength. There are plenty of women who can overpower me."
Natasha slowly widened her eyes, staring intently at Shiller and asking, "Surely you're not planning on hopping into bed with a woman who you can't kill?"
Before Shiller could reply, in just one second, Natasha accepted this absurd fact, and began to narrow down her own conjectures. But she quickly realized that wouldn't narrow the field much.
Firstly, without using his brainpower, Shiller had effectively discarded half his abilities. Pair that with him not using his symbiont, and he would have to withstand blows with only his flesh and blood. Then consider the diverse and considerably strong abilities carried by female superheroes in this world.
If viewed this way, there aren't many female superheroes in all of New York that cannot handle him.
Natasha's eyes scanned Shiller from head to toe like a scanner, employing a professional perspective to analyze the man before her and his physical threat level.
Shiller was much taller than her. Natasha silently estimated, not particularly burly, but the height and weight disparity was still a problem. His clothes didn't show any noticeable bulges of muscle.
He had good body proportions, there should be no problems in exerting power. His joints were not twisted or abnormal, his limbs were flexible and capable, and evasion was not a problem.
Most of these were based on considering the status of an ordinary male body. Natasha thought for a long time but was unable to figure out any significant overwhelming power that Shiller's body might hold. It was mostly within her manageable range.
To put it differently, even a superpowered hero like Captain America was within Natasha's manageable range to some extent. Fighting was not "bear-like" charging at each other, speed, agility, flexibility, and practical experience also matter.
"This is a very reasonable hypothesis." Shiller explained: "If the object I am facing cannot be killed by me in an agitated state, maybe it could work out, right?"
"But it still carries risks." Natasha said with an added emphasis.
"Therefore, I will minimize the possibility of killing the other party. Simply put, I need to catch a strong enough 'fish'"
"Oh my God!" Natasha leaned back, holding her forehead. She sounded as frantic as a drunkard: "I hope your pond doesn't harbor such foolish 'fishes'! If so, their female intuition better reminds them to run before you make a move."
Yet Shiller paused for a moment, shifting his gaze elsewhere, blinked, then said,
"All I can say is for the most part in the past, she didn't quite have this thing called female intuition."