Hell's Kitchen, New York.
With a heart-wrenching scream, Daredevil Matt was squirming on the bed in Shiller's psychological clinic. Shiller removed the alcoholic cotton ball he was holding with the tweezers and said, "Despite the lack of people around here, I can't extract the bullet if you keep tensing up your muscles like this."
He threw the cotton ball into the trash bin. After sterilizing the tweezers with an alcoholic cotton pad, he attempted to widen the wound on Matt's shoulder and said, "I have to make a little cut."
Matt said, "You must give me anesthesia. Otherwise, I'm going to pass out from the pain."
"A superhero who is afraid of pain — I don't know if I should ridicule you or admire you," Shiller said.
"Not many can hurt me. This time, Kingpin brought in a tough guy." Matt replied.
Shiller looked at Matt's pale face, his lips almost losing their natural color. Every individual had different tolerance levels for pain. Evidently, Daredevil Matt was on the more sensitive spectrum.
Just like Shiller said, it was laughable as well as admirable for such an individual to be a superhero.
Shiller thought that even superheroes bleed and no medicine could entirely avoid the pain. Perhaps, the formidable Batman also discarded his superficial revengeful thoughts amid insufferable suffering and found himself a greater mission.
It was only the ideals of the grand concept of "justice" that fostered the resilience in superheroes to nurse their wounds on solitary nights.
Placing his tweezers upon the table, Shiller said, "You're lucky, Matt. I have some potent drugs here."
He pulled out a small white bottle and handed it to Matt. Matt fiddled with the package and sniffed, "Damn, how did you even get such potent painkillers? You junkie!"
Shiller responded, "Don't be disrespectful! This stuff isn't like the rubbish stuff circulating in the market. It has the highest concentration you can get. If you're not going to take it, give it back. This stuff is expensive."
The drugs Shiller took out were the sedatives he stole during his visit to Jonathan for fear gas. Jonathan needed painkillers for his test experiments. His were self-refined and far superior to what could be bought elsewhere.
Matt still took a pill and said, "God blesses me to get better soon. Afterwards, I will turn around and punch you."
"Don't take your repayment of kindness with ingratitude for granted. In a hellhole like Hell's Kitchen, it's normal to carry some painkiller pills around. It's hardly a crime," Shiller countered.
Matt felt intensifying pain ebb away. He begrudgingly had to admit that Shiller had a point. In a place like Hell's Kitchen, popping pills was the least of harmful habits.
Shiller thought to himself, "If it was in Gotham, a mere pill popping habit would make him seem as innocent as an angel."
Seeing the color return to Matt's face, Shiller began performing minor surgery on him while asking, "So what happened to you?"
Crushing his lips together, Matt replied, "Kingpin brought in some formidable individuals. Despite my vigilance, their self-proclaimed 'ninjas' could lower their heartbeat to a level I couldn't detect... Damn it!"
Shiller was examining the fresh bullet he had successfully extracted with tweezers. He twirled it around and said, "The ninjas you're talking about seem to have too much time. They even engraved a cherry blossom pattern on their bullet."
Matt looked weary. Shiller yelled, "Pikachu! Get the bandages from the cabinet for me!"
Matt heard a small creature hop onto the table. Pikachu scornfully said, "I already told you not to treat him in the bedroom. Do you enjoy the smell of blood? Here, loser, here are your bandages."
Shiller caught the flung bandages, wound them around Matt, and said, "You'd better hurry, I have to leave soon."
"What, die on the street outside?" Shiller asked.
"They are after me. Those ninjas have unique tracking techniques. If they come here, none of us will escape." Matt explained.
He was indeed a good man, unwilling to involve Shiller. Even though Shiller didn't seem like a decent person to him, he had saved his life. Though his sharp words implied otherwise, Matt had no intention of returning Shiller's kindness with hostility.
While cleaning his bloodied tools, Shiller said, "They don't need any special tracking skills. You ran over here from the next street, reeking of blood. If they still haven't found you..."
Suddenly, Matt heard a gust of wind and yelled, "It's a dart! Hide fast!"
He was anxious since he could tell from Shiller's footsteps that he was an untrained ordinary man. Against those ninja assassins, he had almost no chances of survival.
However, soon, he heard a thud. A hidden weapon seemed to have hit something. Shiller was wielding an umbrella, which he thought an effective defensive weapon, especially against the darts, as it could greatly reduce their impact.
There was only one person opposite them as Shiller's mind sensing acted in a specific range. Besides Matt, he could sense only one person's emotions.
"Miss, if you hesitated for three minutes before making a move, why not sit down and have a cup of coffee with us?" Shiller proposed.
Before the person could reply, Shiller continued talking into the air, "You've held back quite a bit on your old lover. I've never seen anyone perfectly shoot a bullet into the least dangerous gap in the scapula. Since you're here, why not come out and meet us?"
There was a cold snort from the opposite side, and then the killer left.
Seeming baffled, Matt asked, "What? What old lover?"
Shiller shook his head and said, "Haven't you noticed? The assassin you encountered could have shot you without detection. Why didn't she aim for your heart or head?"
"Wasn't the bullet aimed at the heart?"
"Not even close."
Matt's mind was short-circuiting. Obviously, he hadn't realized that the assassin sitting across from him was Erica, his former classmate and ex-girlfriend.
Shiller, who was aware of the plot, knew that Erica must be in torment. The unresolved feelings she had for Matt, along with her indecisiveness about fulfilling her mission, made her hesitate about revealing herself. So, when Shiller just pointed out her identity, she ran away immediately, clearly not ready for Matt to know who she is.
Indeed, one really shouldn't attempt to decipher a woman's mind.
Soon, Daredevil Matt fell asleep, plagued by pain and worry. Shiller lowered and locked the rolling door on the entrance of his clinic, locked all windows as well. Standing by the bed, he looked out at the New York City night sky.
As a sparkling meteor crossed the mid-air, countless couples made wishes upon the star. However, it was actually Stark's mecha.
The people of Hell's Kitchen were too busy to make wishes upon meteors. Shiller, however, took out his phone and called Stark. As soon as the call went through, Shiller said, "Does Miss Pepper know that you'd rather zoom around in your mecha than spend time with her?"
Then, under the watchful gaze of numerous couples, the "meteor" plummeted down.
After a while, atop the rooftop of Shiller's clinic, Stark, still suited in his slightly smoking Mark 5, griped to Shiller, "I really should have added you to my blocked list..."
Shiller lit a cigarette for him and said, "A middle-aged man out for a joyride in the middle of the night, displaying such a melancholy course. It'd be odd if you weren't in disagreement with your wife."
Stark sat down on the rooftop as well, taking the cigarette from Shiller, he said, "Well... the pressure she gives me... to be honest, I don't know..."
"You're not sure about what? About whether or not you want to marry Pepper?"
Stark choked and coughed twice, he said, "Marry? Aren't you jumping the gun a little bit?"
"Oh right. In the eyes of a playboy like you, there indeed is an essential step beforehand."
"Don't talk about Pepper like that. She's different from other women."
"I just wonder if you're any different from other men in her eyes," said Shiller.
Before Stark could retort, Shiller said, "But I guess it's probably the same. The time you have spent with her is even less than her security guard."
"...Well then, I'll just fire that security guard," Stark grumbled.
Obviously, he was avoiding some problems.
After a while, Stark rubbed his cheek and asked uneasily, "Can you really read minds?"
"Would you believe me if I say I can? Stop asking about things you don't believe in," Shiller replied.
"Actually, I wish I could find a way to believe that mind-reading exists in this world. Then you could tell me what Pepper really thinks," Stark said.
Iron Man is not a conventional invincible hero. He has a sensitive and emotional heart. His tender sentiments contradict his genius tech persona, which wraps his thoughts into a tangled mess.
In front of Pepper, Stark always hesitates. He completely fails to realize that this attitude speaks volumes.
Shiller switched topics, asking, "How is that kid in the red and blue suit doing in New York City? I heard you complaining about him."
"Oh, yes, a kid in an ugly bodysuit, prancing around, swinging here and there like a flea," Stark said. "Jarvis reckons he's underage. I plan on catching him and sending him home."
Shiller said, "I do have leads on him, do you want to hear them?"
"I saw him a few times on the edge of Hell's Kitchen. He never dared come in. I noticed a high school symbol on his sky-blue trousers. It's from around Queens District..."
"You call this a lead?" Stark scoffed. Shiller continued, "From what I can tell, he doesn't have money for a proper outfit. His family situation probably isn't great, so he most certainly doesn't attend those expensive private schools. He's most likely a student at Midtown or Forest High school..."
"Forest High School has a boarding system. If any student was caught wandering around like that, they'd be severely punished. Midtown, on the other hand, is much laxer. Judging by his build, he's probably in the first or second year of high school."
"Just a brat," Stark concluded. "Probably came up with a toy that allows him to show off and can't wait to roam around with it."
"So, do you plan on showing him what adulthood can bring?" Shiller asked.
"Of course, more importantly, New York City is not his playground," Stark said.
Although he had just recovered, he was an experienced adult who knew there would be trouble if Little Spider continued his reckless actions. In actuality, the media had already taken notice of him.