此时此刻,库尔森困惑地站在尼克·弗瑞的办公室门口.他看着每个到达这个十字路口的人都向右转.
娜塔莎从尼克的办公室出来.库尔森拦住了她,问道:"这是怎么回事?为什么每个人都走了很长的路?我记得去电梯的最短路线应该是左转,对吧?
"因为我们天价天才精神科医生就在左边的办公室里,等着人做心理咨询.
"你居然雇佣了他!?他的费用是多少?不可能是每小时1亿美元,对吧?
"没那么多,根据尼克的报告,每小时5000万美元.
库尔森倒吸一口凉气,心想:"所以,如果我现在去找他做心理咨询,这就像免费赚了5000万美元?
"你可以这样解释."
"那里一定排着长队.我今天还能排队吗?
"相反,那里没有一个人."娜塔莎耸耸肩.
说完,她右转离开.库尔森喊道:"你走错了路!那是紧急出口!电梯在左边!
娜塔莎头也不回地喊道:"我想锻炼!你知道,为了健康!
库尔森变得更加困惑.不久之后,尼克走出了办公室.库尔森向他打招呼,"早上好,主任.
尼克朝他点了点头,说道:"最近,娜塔莎已经退出了斯塔克工业公司的事情,但她会跟进汉德的案子.你的主要任务是盯着那个摇摆不定的男孩,不让他惹麻烦.
库尔森回答说:"是的,"但随后他注意到尼克也转身向右走.他拉着上司提醒道:"主任,电梯在那儿.如果你走对了,你将不得不多走5分钟.
"我打算走楼梯,以保持健康."
库尔森真的很困惑.他独自一人,咕噜咕噜地走在左边的路上.看到席勒的办公室门半开着,他敲了敲门,走了进去.席勒埋头写字,听到有人进来,他抬起头来,惊讶地说:"居然有人来了..."
库尔森停顿了一下,问道:"这里现在开门了吗?我记得在晨会上有人说,心理咨询从今天开始.
"Of course open! Please come in, you're the first one!" Schiller stands up with a pen in hand and even pulls out a chair for Coulson. His enthusiasm makes Coulson somewhat awkward. Schiller adds, "Well, you might also be the only one."
"I don't understand why nobody is coming for the $50 million per hour counseling.It's free and reimbursed by the agency."
"Probably because of the price at $50 million which I set, and Nick agreed..."
"What's the problem with that? Doesn't that clearly show that the director highly values your skills?"
"Well... setting aside his macroscopic understanding of funds in economics and his flexible application of reimbursement in institutional framework, have you ever considered that maybe it is his affirmation of me that keeps nobody here?"
"Are you suggesting that they think you're too skilled?"
Schiller is speechless, "Are you really a Level 8 agent? What about Natasha? Level 100?"
"Which agent would be willing to consult a highly capable psychiatrist and have all their secrets exposed?"
"I thought it was just some simple emotional adjustment, like releasing anxiety."
"In that case, go smoke a cigarette at the entrance."
"I can't do that. The damn smoke alarm here is too sensitive," says Coulson.
"Well, are you here to relieve some depression then?"
"Not really, it's because I see that Captain and you seem to have a good relationship. I want him to sign my fan flashcards. Can you ask him for me?"
Schiller spreads his hands and sighs, "Alright, I knew it. I deserve it. If it really relieves your anxiety. Give me the cards. I promise he will not miss signing any of them, which should be worth my $50 million per hour consultation fee."
After Coulson leaves, Schiller leisurely drinks his coffee in his temporary office. But before he can finish his morning of idleness, as soon as he opens the door to take a breath, a sharp alarm sounds. A small device on his head emits a red light and begins alarmingly signaling.
Schiller is startled, but his spider-sense shows no reaction at all. In order to keep safe, he is prepared to use his teleportation at any moment. However, accompanied by a sharp scream, the fire sprinklers are turned on directly. The spray heads instantly release a large amount of mist. If Schiller hadn't moved fast, he would have been drenched.
Coulson and a few agents run over, look up at the smoke alarm, and then at Schiller. Schiller holds a coffee cup, staring at them.
"Smoking is not allowed here."
"I'm not smoking."
Coulson gives a skeptical look and says, "Your expression is exactly the same as Natasha's when she got caught. Did you throw the cigarette down the drain through the sink?"
"Of course not, I never smoke indoors."
Coulson indeed doesn't smell nothing. He looks up at the smoke alarm that keeps ringing and concludes, "Well, it seems like this damn is broken again."
"How on earth did you make a smoke alarm make over a hundred decibels of noise?"
"If you had 32 fire incidents in your house in a month, you would understand."
The symbiote in Schiller's mind murmurs, "I feel a bit dizzy and nauseous. Shall we leave?"
Schiller says, "It seems like today's therapy ends here. Even less than an hour counts as one hour. Don't forget to let Nick pay the bill. I'll leave first."
Schiller decisively leaves. He knows it isn't an accident, but rather someone not wanting him to stay there. Every downstairs takes an extra 5 minutes, wasting too much time.
Humans are always like this. They fantasize when there's no mind-reading ability, hoping someone could understand and know their thoughts. But once a person truly gains the ability, everyone avoids it like a plague.
Of course, in S.H.I.E.L.D., it could also be due to Nick Fury's inclusive talent management system.
After returning to the clinic, Schiller, who hasn't slept for dozens of hours, decides to take a nap. The symbiote plays hypnotic music for him, and he quickly falls asleep. However, before he can enter deep sleep, a phone call wakes him up.
"What?... why did you come to me? Go find Pepper."
"She's busy with work? Does that mean I have no work? Well, I did finish work, but there's no way for me to go back to the lab. I really don't want to screw light bulbs anymore."
"Yes, yeah, I know your suit is a groundbreaking armor, not a light bulb. Can you get to the point?"
"Jarvis detected something strange in the parts storage. The number of parts is incorrect? Are you sure you didn't miscount? Alright, I know... I know you're meticulous, but how can I help with this? I can't magically create missing parts for you... No, magic won't work either..."
"...It's hard to say." Schiller paces around the living room of the clinic. "Maybe you should ask Jarvis. He's more than just a computer now."
"Jarvis was a bit hesitant? Don't you know the answer? Or are you actually suspecting someone, but unwilling to admit..."
"No, my mind-reading ability certainly can't be used for something like this. Don't joke... I can tell you that the object you're thinking of has an 80% possibility..."
After the phone call ends, Schiller grabs Pikachu and rubs its cheeks, saying, "A solid iron fortress is always breached from within. It's really hard to command."
"What trouble did that stiff guy meet?" Pikachu asks.
"It seems like something is missing from his armor. His AI butler gave him an answer he didn't want to hear, and now his worldview is being shaken."
"Humans always like to add meaningless worries to themselves." Pikachu concludes, "That kid named Parker actually worries about killing hostages in a video game. Come on, it's just a game. Even if the hostage dies, we still win if we wipe out the kidnappers, don't we?"
"So you rush in and kill the hostages?"
"Well, that kid is always wavering, what can I do? You humans are too tangled up in meaningless things, always immersing yourselves too deeply in things that haven't happened, full of unnecessary worries, while avoiding facing things that have already happened."
"I didn't expect you, as a rat, to speak such philosophy."
"Of course, I'm a great detective."
In Stark Tower, all the lights in the Stark lab go out, leaving only faint flickering lights from some instruments, like scattered stars.
Stark leans on the workbench, sitting on the floor. His phone is flashing a symbol, indicating that Jarvis is also there.
"I'm trying to comfort you, sir."
"So you turned off all the lights?" Stark's voice is a bit hoarse, as he is extremely exhausted from staying up all night.
"It might help you relax a bit. Dim lights are conducive to relaxing the brain," Jarvis explains.
Stark closes his eyes. He adjusts to a more relaxed position. He curls up one leg and rests his arm on it, lifting his head. He mutters as if talking in sleep, "...Maybe this is retribution."
"The weapons of Stark Industries have caused countless people to be homeless, so those people I used to trust will also leave me one by one..."
"We still can't be sure that Mr. Obadiah is the culprit." Jarvis says, "In the analysis, he only has about a 96% probability."
"You can be more straightforward." Stark smiles dryly.
"Sorry, I mean there's a 4% chance it's not him."
"Then who is the remaining possibility?"
"Mr. Schiller accounts for 2%, Mr. Parker accounts for 1.2%, and you account for 0.8%."
"Schiller? Do you expect someone who can't even distinguish numbered armor parts from 1 to 10 to steal the most important core? And Peter, that kid may be a bit foolish, but he wouldn't steal. He's the type of kid who would be shocked for half a day if he saw me smoking."
"I'm comforting you,sir." Jarvis sighs.
Lastly, Stark feels that all the sounds of the world gradually fade away. In a half-dreamy state, he remembers Howard's face.
At that time, Obadiah and his father stand together, and they are still young.