Chapter 2104: Chapter 1416: Return of the Old Days (15)_2

"They're constantly scheming to spring a big surprise on Earth and the human race, but if they don't take a rest soon, the biggest surprise we'll get next is their lifeless bodies!"

Stark promptly stopped the female agent by the arm, took her aside slightly, and said, "Alright, then, just dispatch a few more agents to me, keeping an eye on their house would be foolproof."

Natasha tossed back her red hair that had fallen over her forehead, folded her arms, and said, "No way, that crosses too many lines, Nick will give me a hard time."

"Then use your other channel."

Natasha stared at Stark, a hint of suspicion in the female agent's eyes, but she eventually lowered her gaze and said, "Alright, but you better watch out, they wouldn't go easy on capitalists like you."

Natasha strode off. In Stark's mind, Batman asked, "What's this other channel of the Russian woman you're talking about?"

"She's not Russian," Stark corrected him as they walked towards the clinic. "She's a citizen of the Soviet Union."

Batman had a bad feeling about this. With an undertone of uncertainty, he asked, "The other channel...it's not the KGB, is it?"

"Congratulations, you're spot on."

Batman was silent for a while as he digested this shocking news, before voicing his astonishment, "As the head of the biggest capitalist organization in the world, you're allowing a place you'll be frequently visiting in the next few days to be surveilled by the KGB, led by a Soviet individual?"

"What's there to fear?" Stark casually shrugged, and as Batman fell silent again, he added, "You'd let the KGB spy on your friends?"

Stark leaned on the curtain, watching Steve cook, and said, "I had my friends keeping an eye on the KGB... to make sure their faith and actions remain pure."

The implication in these words truly rendered Batman speechless. He suddenly remembered a detail: when Shiller was in his universe, on their car journey to his new residence, Shiller recited a poem by Pushkin.

"He's hit you before, hasn't he?" Batman said conclusively.

"Depends on what level you mean." Stark started childishly tapping on the window to distract Steve and said, "Not physically, but mentally, he's beat up everyone, along with the entire American political scene, and just about the entire cosmos, and just about every universe."

"You should tell me about his glorious past."

"I was just about to."

As Steve impatiently responded to Stark's window tapping with a spatula, Stark leaned against the window of the clinic's outer wall, starting to share Shiller's glorious light-bulb-twisting history with Batman.

Inside the house, Peter started yelling in excitement. He had just snagged an easy and highly-rewarding task in the Spider App, so he had to apologize to Shiller before rushing off to tackle his errand.

Seeing that Shiller didn't react, Peter hurried out the door, only to rush back in before Steve had finished making breakfast, carrying Helen in his arms.

Once outside, Peter handed Helen over to Stark, saying, "Thor's issued a task, hoping I could bring Helen to you while he tries to get Loki back to confinement. Sorry, I'm just repeating Thor's words because Loki's trying to make him and his other selves finish all the work for the interstellar tech expo."

After Stark took Helen, a rather embellished version of the story came pouring out of the little girl's mouth.

"You wouldn't believe it, my mom's working herself to death! Sure, she's not an Asgardian, but she is a Frost Giant and a mage who hones her magical power constantly. Yet last night, her magic went haywire, ruining her bedroom and an entire floor of the Fairy Palace."

"After a medical consultation with Odin and Frigga, the doctors concluded she's overworked. Her brain and spirit can't support her to continue working like this. Now Thor's locked her up, which clearly isn't solving the problem."

"Those Lokis from other universes are also on the brink of exhaustion. They're trying to save Asgard in a day, can you believe it? Every Loki is such maniac, and Thor can't convince even one of them to go back and get some rest. He's at his wit's end."

Helen chattered on for several minutes and even emphasized how Thor had resorted to physical means: "Yes, he ended up fighting Loki, more like he knocked Loki out single-handedly, but we all know this isn't the end."

"So, he hopes I could do something?"

"He hopes you could do something for the Nine Major Kingdoms." Helen hopped onto the balcony next to Stark and said, "He wants to know how you managed to control Shiller, Shiller seems even crazier than Loki."

Stark puckered his lower lip, a reminiscent look in his eyes. He gave a slight tremble of his eyelashes, patted Helen on the head, and said, "Quite simple, keep an eye on him 24/7."

"Or maybe there's a more fundamental way to say it." Stark looked into Helen's eyes and uttered the word, "Accompany him."

Helen blinked, cocked her head a little, seemingly making an effort to understand his meaning. Just then, a gust of wind blew past, the scent of dark essence grew stronger, and a voice came from behind Stark.

"Greetings, Iron Demon God. I am Hela."

Stark turned to see the still noble and serene figure of Hela. The crowned Black-haired princess rested her chin on her hand and said,

"The Mutants have delivered the M'kraan Crystal into the Nine Major Kingdoms and are currently at the prearranged location, which is my Netherworld. And I am carrying out my duty, escorting you to inspect the merchandise."

Stark glanced back through the window. Shiller, Steve, and Peter were done with the breakfast and were now sitting on the couch, watching TV. Without further thought, he put Helen down and followed Hela away.

Shiller lifted his gaze away from the TV and looked at Stark's retreating figure. He closed his eyes, feigning fatigue, and focused his attention on the grey ring on his finger.

In the world of grey fog, a black sun hung high in the sky, still daunting, terrifying yet magnificent. This time, however, a massive storybook levitated opposite the sun.

Above the storybook floated a feather quill, smoothly penning something, which was soon taken up by an aged hand. A pair of eyes stared at the newly formed story in the book—

"On an ordinary summer evening in the southwest, I returned home to Englewood. It's been many years since I last returned, and other than reminiscing, I had a more urgent matter at hand: visiting my mother's grave..."

As the final line went down, a deep sigh came.

"You've lured me here with a good story, so what is it that you want?"

The black sun gave no reply. The crowned, aged face appeared from the void, his eyes stared at the pattern on the black sun, and decoded the information—

"Hello, Loki, God of Stories."

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