The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel, Shiller was brushing his teeth with a cup in hand when his phone suddenly rang. He picked it up and mumbled into it, "Hello?"
"Open the door, Shiller, we have an early morning interview and want to catch a glimpse of your daily life."
"But I'm brushing my teeth..."
"That's the perfect slice of life!"
Shiller shook his head helplessly but eventually finished brushing his teeth, rinsed his mouth, put the toothbrush back on the table, grabbed a towel to dry his hands, and opened the door.
Outside stood Eddie with a camera on his shoulder and an assistant wearing a cap in the background. The camera lens was initially pointing downward. Eddie stepped out first and then said, "Are you ready? If you are, I'll knock again."
Shiller had no choice but to close the door, and when it was knocked again, he reopened it, feigning surprise, "Why are you here? Why so early?"
"Good morning, Doctor, how are you?" Now, the assistant was shouldering the camera while Eddie stepped forward to shake hands with Shiller.
"Yes, I'm doing quite well." Shiller stepped aside, letting the two men enter. The assistant filmed the hotel's interior decor while Eddie pointed at a canvas bag hanging nearby, commenting, "Are you a Yankees fan as well?"
"Of course, I'm a New Yorker. But that bag was a gift from a friend."
"After all, you don't strike me as the type who would choose a canvas bag."
"Can you believe it? I even have canvas shoes."
"Oh, God."
They walked into the living room of the suite, chatting and laughing. Shiller made some coffee with the coffee maker, handed cups to Eddie and his photographer assistant, and said, "Hard to imagine you're up this early. I remember you're the night owl type. Did Tony pay enough to adjust your circadian rhythm?"
"Rather than calling me a night owl, it's more like you go to bed too early." Eddie yawned and said, "Aside from you, all other interviews are scheduled for two hours later."
"Those in pairs should be even later, trust me." Shiller said, "Unfamiliar environments always provide more stimuli. Even two hours later, you'll only see them sleepy as if bathed in blossoms."
Eddie clearly understood and laughed mockingly, taking a sip of the steaming coffee, "We have a big battle today, and I need to be on my toes. Alright, Doctor, tell us about your typical day."
"I thought you would be more interested in superheroes, but if you want to know, at this time, I usually call my patients to check on their current condition."
"All of them?"
"Of course not. You know I run a sanatorium. The previous day's ward round notes will indicate which patients require my inquiry, and I'll call their wards first."
"If they indeed have an issue, I'll go for a visit; if not, I won't bother. After all, patients need rest. If there's nothing significant, frequent doctor visits could imply something ominous and add stress unnecessarily."
"After that, I have consultations to attend, mainly for those who don't reside at the sanatorium, providing them with psychological counseling."
"In fact, we're quite curious about this part..."
"Don't act like you've never seen it before."
"Is it like that time?" Eddie asked doubtfully, "Just sitting like now?"
"Yes, just like that. Or what? You want me to set up a special seat on the ceiling for you?... Get rid of that look, I'll say it again, psychologists aren't Medieval Wizards. There are no Potion Cauldrons or Spellcasting Platforms. We are completely scientific, safe..."
"...and well-reasoned," Eddie interjected. "I've heard that so much my ears might develop calluses."
"But you're still full of misconceptions; everyone is." Shiller sighed deeply, "They come into the therapy room prepared for the worst but never imagine it's just a simple inquiry. But I can understand them."
"I've suffered from anxiety myself, you know." Eddie said, "To us, death is death, but the unknown is even more terrifying than death."
"You have a point there, so every time I think about whether I should station an armed guard at the door of my therapy room. It might make patients more inclined to come right in while they are wrestling with their psyche."
Both laughed at the idea, and Eddie shook his head, "No, you can't do that. Otherwise, at least your success rate in treating anxiety would skyrocket, and you would take away the livelihood of all New York psychologists."
"I'm nearly there already. Otherwise, why would S.H.I.E.L.D. hire me as your psychological consultant?"
"So, this is not such a good gig for you?"
"You've been following them for a while, do you think it's a good gig?" Shiller countered.
"They're too unstable," Eddie said. "Although I'm one of them, my power is external, so I can judge him objectively, and that's why I know how unstable he is."
"You're the unstable one! You coward!!" Venom popped his head out from Eddie's shoulder again, but Eddie was quick to push him back down.
"See, maybe the physical manifestation of certain emotions in a superhero's heart is just like that, always bursting out unexpectedly, controlling their actions, and causing trouble for everyone."
"Where do you think these emotions come from?"
"You're the psychiatrist, what do you think?"
"Almost all superheroes have some level of anxiety, which is completely normal. They might have money and status, but they also face pressures in life, except unlike ordinary people, they bear additional pressures that come from a sense of responsibility far beyond that of the average person."
"Without a doubt, being a hero requires an extremely strong inner drive, but this sense of mission and responsibility can also become their pressure, pushing them towards inner turmoil."
"Do you think this poses a danger to the public?"
"I'm just talking about their potential emotions, not their performance. If these emotions really caused them to lose control and pose a danger, then they wouldn't be superheroes now, they'd be supervillains."
"To put it simply, all superheroes are beings who have successfully overcome these emotions. Even those not considered superheroes, just individuals with great powers who don't use them for ill, also possess extraordinary self-control."
"These people will never be a threat to ordinary people because as long as they can overcome once, they can overcome a million times. As long as they don't fail, they will always be a solid barrier in front of the common people."
"Your view is very optimistic, Doctor."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't be here," Shiller said. "Conducting psychological evaluations for superheroes is my job, but getting involved in all this demons and ghosts stuff during my vacation is not my responsibility."
"So you're saying you're worried?"
"The ones I'm worried about aren't them; they are the victors who have overcome the loss of control. But not everyone in the world can be a victor."
As Shiller's words slowly settled, several figures in black suits entered the pure white building, facing the wind. They were surrounded by vast expanses of greenery, above which the sky was a dusky blue and tall black mountains loomed, capped by ethereal white snow.
Stark's mansion in Beverly Hills boasted the best location in the entire estate, nestled against the mountains and facing the sea, capturing the essence of the West Coast's geographic advantage. Naturally, the architecture was also second to none, offering a sight that was a feast for the eyes.
The winds of the coastal city never ceased throughout the year, and today was no exception, with strong winds. However, the sea breeze had swept away all the clouds in the sky, allowing the sunlight to expose everything on the ground without hiding.
It was still early, with the distant sky warming from the bottom with a pale glow. The wind turned the backyard lawn into a shimmering river. Just as the tender green had turned over, golden sparkles danced back into motion, and the hazy city in the distance grew more diffuse in the warm spring light.
A few people sat under umbrellas on the lawn, the sunlight clearly defining every wrinkle between their features, except for Stark who wore sunglasses; the others squinted towards the bright distance.
Behind them was a massive floor-to-ceiling window, but the furniture inside was not the lifeless modern style obsessed with form, but rather a luxuriously elegant and cozy Italian mood, with the daisies in the vase on the checkered table swaying gently with the wind coming through the windows.
The ladies were upstairs entertaining Wanda's children, exchanging experiences about pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting, while the gentlemen sat downstairs talking about everything under the sun, inevitably arriving at the topic of Hollywood films yet never quite agreeing.
Steve, Tony, and Peter were from completely different eras. During the time Steve grew up, movies were a rare commodity, and he had very few to watch. Tony, on the other hand, lived during the golden age of film, with countless classic movies accompanying his childhood and adolescence.
Peter lived in the post-Hollywood era; Hollywood after the year 2000, although experiencing several boom periods, was no longer as dominating, and the films Peter liked to watch were no longer the big American blockbusters from Hollywood.
They finally found common ground in the Godfather series, which all three had seen and rather liked, yet their perspectives could not be more divergent. Steve appreciated the Corleone family's values, believing that despite being a mob family, some of their views on treating family members were commendable.
Stark always said that the downfall of the Corleone family had nothing to do with the first two Godfathers or family values; they missed the point entirely. The real reason for the decline of this massive gangster family was the era, their failure to keep up with the times.
Moreover, no matter what business the mob was in, they were ultimately middlemen without technology or patents, lacking any barrier to withstand the tide of the times; without holding onto the core essence in their hands, no matter how many people and guns they had, they would eventually be eliminated.
Peter was moved by the difference between the first and second Godfathers; the second was clearly more ruthless than the first, yet sadly, his end was much less successful. Perhaps it was a case of an empire too big to support, with desperation leading to extreme actions.
Who would have thought that Iron Man and Captain America would come together to discuss mob films, and Strange quipped from the side, "I thought you guys would always be fiercely denouncing the mob."
"It's just a movie," Stark replied irritably. "We're discussing a subject that the masses enjoy. You're the only one who doesn't fit in."
Strange looked at Shiller, who was leisurely drinking coffee at the same table, and asked, "Aren't you interested in movies either?"
Shiller shook his head and replied, "I watch movies just for the spectacle, I never analyze the social issues behind them. I'm tired enough from analyzing this and that at work, I'm not interested in analyzing films."