Chapter 7: Chapter 6 'Unfortunate' Resignation_1

By the time he went to bed, Shiller realized that he could actually spend all his time in Marvel. He could sleep, return to DC, sleep again in DC, and then be back in Marvel. Time was stagnant on the DC side, so he could idle around in Marvel without having to breathe in the smog of Gotham City.

But his good times didn't last long. Before Shiller had a chance to take Peter and his family for check-ups over the weekend, S.H.I.E.L.D. showed up at his door.

One day during work, Shiller had just rounded his patients and was using the doctor's internal system to schedule a check-up for Peter's family when his office door was knocked. Shiller was seated behind his desk and didn't look up until his spider-sense gave a jolt. He looked up guardedly to see a strange man standing at the door.

"Hey, Doc, no need to be nervous. I'm Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D. agent." The man noticed Shiller's anxious posture. Shiller glanced at him over his glasses and replied, "Let's talk outside, my patients are all here."

Coulson hurriedly nodded, and they descended the stairs together. Once they were seated in a cafe beside the hospital, Shiller frowned and asked, "Is S.H.I.E.L.D. short-staffed? Or is it difficult to find a female agent who can wear a nurse's uniform?"

Coulson was somewhat puzzled by Shiller's attitude. Shouldn't most people be fearful or resistant when suddenly faced by an agent? It seemed the boss was right; this Shiller was definitely not ordinary.

Shiller appeared somewhat impatient as he stated, "I've already been late by a day, and absent another day. The whole clinic knows I've been up all night drinking and taking drugs. If you must give me trouble, could you please wait until the dust settles on this matter? I could get fired!"

"But according to our information, you are only temporarily hired as a psychological consultant by the Elders Council Hospital. It was only because the head of the psychiatric department was away that you took over..."

"Does that matter? I greatly need this job right now. What if you guys cause me to lose it?"

Coulson said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Shiller. We didn't mean to disturb you. It's just that we heard that you're Mr. Stark's psychological consultant, and we want to understand more about his psychological state. Of course, we will pay the medical fee on time..."

"One million US dollars an hour."

"Pff!" Coulson spat out a mouthful of coffee. He wiped his mouth and said, "If you want to refuse, there's no need to make such an excuse..."

"If you can't afford it, then see fewer doctors." Shiller rolled his eyes and stood up as if to leave, behaving exactly like an unscrupulous quack.

Coulson didn't even try to stop him. Once Shiller had left, he reported into his earpiece, "There seems to be something fishy about the hospital. He was anxious to lead me away, and equally anxious to get back... Alright, alright..."

Shiller went back to his consultation room. He focused his attention, pushed his mind-sensing ability to its maximum, then felt the emotions of the psychiatric patients. He tried to express some of the emotions with words as much as possible—the inner world of a group of psychiatric patients was indeed chaotic and crazy. Shiller hastily wrote over a dozen pages and locked them in his drawer.

When he returned to his apartment that night, he found that some agents appeared to have search his place. Shiller scanned his spider-sense once but didn't find any hidden cameras or microphones, so he didn't pay it much mind.

In S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Nick Fury stared at the brightly lit information board displaying Shiller's detailed profile. Coulson, standing behind him, said, "He's very worried about his job, and seems unwilling to leave that hospital. We found a lot of alcohol bottles and some drugs in his house..."

"These are some papers we found in his office tonight. We only found these. He seems to have urgently disposed of the rest because we found large amounts of shredded paper pulp in the drainage, but it was too late to restore."

Fury took the papers and asked, "Does he have a mental illness? No, these don't seem to be a crazy man's rants. He's collecting psychological data from psychiatric patients? How is he communicating with the patients?"

"These are clearly not information a normal doctor should have. These records even contain patients' extreme privacies..."

"He can hypnotize?" Coulson suggested.

"Our psychologists can do the same. Can he make you say the color of your underwear from primary school?" Fury retorted.

"Maybe he just made all this up." Coulson suggested.

"It seems he has extra knowledge about Stark Industries' past and our old friend. Moreover, he could touch Stark's weak points directly and even caused Stark's AI butler to crash today." Fury spoke up.

"You hope he can work for us?"

"He's very effective in dealing with Stark. We will have to deal with more people like this in the future." Fury put the bunch of files aside and continued, "In any case, first figure out what's going on in that hospital. If possible, get him away from there."

"I hate these high intellects the most. They're always too calm, cautious and inscrutable. It's hard to deal with opponents who know how to use their brains." Fury complained.

"Maybe he's just an ordinary psychiatrist, and collecting these lunatics' rants is his hobby..." Coulson suggested.

"Coulson, sometimes you make me doubt whether your level eight agent ranking is inflated," Fury replied. "You think a man who managed to push Stark off balance within thirty minutes and then casually entered Stark Industries the next day is an ordinary psychologist? Or do you believe Tony Stark is just a playboy who lounges around with models all day?"

"I understand. I'll get him to leave the hospital first," Coulson said.

The next day, Shiller received news of his dismissal in Stark's office. He shrugged and said, "See? I really did need your financial support, Mr. Stark. You wouldn't just stand by and watch your dedicated psychology consultant go unemployed and bankrupt, would you?"

Stark replied, "Isn't two million US dollars enough for you to start your own psychological clinic?"

"Money is not the issue, the issue is the necessary qualifications for a psychological clinic. I need a legal psychology consultation room, not some deceitful organization similar to street fortune telling."

"Couldn't you apply for it with your background? Yesterday JARVIS told me you have three PhD degrees and have worked in the six best hospitals in six different states."

"Yes, it's just that the location of the psychological clinic I want to open is somewhat special," Shiller said, taking a sip of his iced wine.

While tinkering with the machine, Stark asked, "Where?"

"Hell's Kitchen," Shiller said.

Stark's hand shook, a series of sparks sprayed from the poor Mark 2. He said, "I can't believe you have a merciful heart like the Virgin Mary, intending to save the poor and addicted devils in those hellish neighborhoods."

Shiller didn't say more, he said, "I need a legally operated psychological clinic in Hell's Kitchen. For that, I can promise you a request."

Shiller stressed the word "legally."

Stark said, "You think I will need your help for something? Ha, what a joke, I am Stark."

"Don't you want to know if Pepper truly likes you?"

Stark's hand shook again, the Mark 2's right leg exploded directl. Shiller took a step back and watched Stark's face get blackened by the explosion. Stark rubbed his face somewhat frantically, "What did you say? What happened to Pepper?"

Apparently, Stark has not yet recognized his feelings for Pepper.

"I can tell you at the right time, whether Pepper truly loves you. I promise it will be accurate. You've seen what I can do."

"Of course Pepper loves me, all the women in the world love Stark," Stark said.

"Is that so? Is she just one of the women in the world to you? Nothing special?" Shiller asked.

Stark fell silent.

"I can promise you that. Of course, you don't have to come to me for psychological consultations from tomorrow. If Pepper comes to you, you can turn her down."

"Can't you afford the counselling fee?"

Stark like a cat that had its tail stepped on, loudly said, "Even if you charge me ten million US dollars an hour I can afford it! I just don't need any psychological counselling! I'm not crazy! I'm perfectly fine!"

Shiller shook his head and slowly said, "I'm afraid Mark 2 doesn't think so."

He and Stark both looked down at the armor that was missing a leg. Stark pointed to the door, "Leave immediately!!!"

Shiller returned to his home. He sent Peter a message saying, "I've scheduled your check-up for the weekend. I will notify the hospital to provide you with considerate service. However, our meeting may have to be postponed because I have resigned from that hospital."

Peter expressed his concern quickly, but Shiller simply mentioned it was a change in his career planning without saying much. Peter felt touched. After all, even though Shiller resigned, he still remembered the previously scheduled physical check-up. He hastily said, "Are you still in New York? If you are, I think we should meet up, have a meal or something, or you could visit my house..."

Shiller declined Peter's offer, and sent a message to Charles: "What do you think would happen if I open a hospital in Hell?"

"I'm afraid the devils won't accept your kindness."

"You seem to deeply sense this."

"I advise you not to do this. You're perhaps just a talented ordinary person, but ordinary people can't resist devils."

"But only a criminal can confront a criminal, isn't it?"

The Charles on the other side of the computer fell silent looking at this sentence. He thought, Marx, is this what you thought too?

Only by turning oneself into a criminal can one confront the most terrible criminal?

Charles shook his head, no, justice must have its fair way of realization. If one can only confront the devil by plunging oneself into hell, it's no different from hobnobbing with the riffraff.

Outside the window, the students of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters were running and playing on the playground. Storm was scolding them to go back to class while Jean watched on. It all seemed quite wonderful.

Yet, Xavier knew the shadow of the Dark Phoenix was still far from gone.

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