Chapter 2798: Star Core Rescue (48)

After dining and wining to his heart's content, Peter slumped onto the couch and let out a satisfied sigh. He patted his belly and said, "Even though the new sanatorium is bigger and more luxurious, I still prefer it here."

He glanced back and saw Shiller was still busy with something in the kitchen, then he turned back with a bit of a complaint, "You poured me too much wine today, Doctor, but you didn't drink much yourself. That's not fair at all…"

"Because I don't like Sherry Wine, obviously I'm from the Port party." Shiller looked back at him and said, "But I did have a glass, just to pay you tribute."

"I can't be blamed for that." Peter looked up at the ceiling as he spoke, his adam's apple bobbing with each word, "You never discuss wine with me, as if I'm forever 16 and not even allowed to hear about it. I have absolutely no idea what each of you prefers to drink."

"There's no need to know that," Shiller replied. "I think only alcoholics would care about such things. It doesn't really matter what kind of wine a non-drinker prefers."

Shiller was slowly cutting vegetables, but the dishes piled in the sink made it clear they had already eaten salad. Despite that, Shiller continued to slice purple cabbage with his knife, with countless purple threads fluttering down each time he cut.

Suddenly, his hand stopped, as if he couldn't control his body, and a look of panic crossed his face. He muttered under his breath, "No, don't open the elevator! Superego... he's cheating!"

The next second, slender fingers grasped the knife. Shiller turned around, knife in hand, and walked behind the couch. Peter tilted his head back as far as he could, seemingly trying to see what was behind him in a funny posture.

A hand rested on Peter's throat. Peter made no movement, but looked upwards, puzzled.

As his eyes widened, he saw Shiller looming directly above him without glasses, his hazel eyes making direct contact with his own.

"You've trained your little lamb very well, Greed."

Peter heard a deep, satisfied tone laced with laughter and instinctively began to struggle.

The next second, the knife replaced the hand, and blood spurted out. The event was brief, and Peter quickly stopped moving.

The next second, the knife was withdrawn. Shiller, looking somewhat flustered, propped himself against the back of the couch, panting and cursing through clenched teeth, "You guys are insane! To dare hijack the elevator?!!"

"Don't be mistaken." His expression cold again, he then sported a mischievous smile and leaned against the couch, saying, "Elevators are only necessary for you, while we are the real Shiller."

Shiller slowly straightened his body. His brain seemed to be still boiling, but to no avail. Some resistance was suppressed. He did not attend to Peter's body but walked slowly to the island platform and picked up the bottle of wine.

"I'm just thanking the little guy for the wine."

The next second, Shiller lay his head on the table again. Biting his teeth, he pounded the table and said, "You've never forcibly substituted Arrogance! I want to protest!"

"Guess who is the biggest Sherry partisan?"

A voice full of morbid jest filled High Tower.

Greed looked down from the highest point, Arrogant in a black suit, holding a wine glass, standing amidst a group of colorful Morbid, looking up from the first floor.

Greed mumbled and fell silent.

He went over and moved Peter's body to the floor and called S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick personally arrived this time, and he was shocked when he saw Peter's body.

But he quickly realized something and said nothing as he walked by, only patting Shiller on the shoulder in silence.

In the Realm of Death, Shiller saw Peter, who was anxiously waiting. His treatment was different from the others; Death seemed to keep a respectful distance, not confining him to a small box, but letting him stroll alone in a garden.

Seeing Shiller's figure, Peter hurried over, asking anxiously, "What's wrong? Doctor, are you okay?!"

"Are you sure that's what you should be asking?" Shiller said slowly.

Peter paused, then replied, "What else? Oh, I also wanted to ask what happened. Were you influenced by something? Or is there some danger approaching me that I couldn't avoid unless I came here?"

Shiller shook his head and said nothing. He seemed to find the outcome both unexpected and unsurprising, and he simply relayed all the events to Peter.

Unexpectedly, Peter didn't seem too surprised after hearing the news. He sat down at the garden table with one hand resting on the tabletop, "Actually, ever since coming back from Battleworld, I have felt a bit off emotionally, but not in an intense way. I find myself pondering things I wouldn't have considered before, like the significance of a superhero's existence."

"I'm also surprised that I decided to give my powers away. Sometimes I wonder, was that truly my decision? After all, I want to protect those ordinary people going home at night. Could I just throw away my powers and responsibilities and make such a heartless decision?"

"Regardless." Peter looked up, his eyes filled with light, and said to Shiller, "They shouldn't have made you suffer like that, Doctor. At that time, you... I mean, the you I knew best had hidden away, right?"

"I didn't want it to be like this," Shiller felt his explanation sounded weak, but he couldn't deny it even though it sounded much like shirking responsibility.

Peter exhaled in relief, "That's good to hear. When I first came here, I thought that certainly wasn't you. It must have been a terrible criminal who wouldn't feel remorse for killing me. That's the only good news."

Shiller's hand, also on the tabletop, stopped for a moment as he said, "Aren't you saddened at all?"

"What's there to be sad about? Are you sad because you dodged a bullet?" Peter shook his head seriously and said, "You're a mentally ill person who thinks there's some crazy special significance in whether or not you personally killed someone, but I'm not. I'm normal. I just feel grateful that a loved one, an elder I care about, avoided something that could have left them with trauma. I consider it a stroke of luck amidst misfortune."

Shiller had no words in response.

He had no way to deal with these kinds of normal people, whether it was Clark or Peter. These people who were so normal it was abnormal—the likes of Shiller were naturally at a disadvantage against them. They would never be led by Shiller's thought process, stubbornly approaching a different kind of madness on their own accord.

"Doctor, if you think the problem lies in the body, have you ever considered genetics?" Peter suddenly raised a new possibility, saying, "I remember you once said that there is a category of people who are naturally unstable mentally. It has nothing to do with their experiences or environment, seeming more like some kind of genetic inheritance."

Shiller sat down next to him, quickly entering the discussion, "Indeed, there are such cases, and they are quite common. Some people's conditions are not severe enough to be considered mental illness, so generations of mental instability are overlooked. But in reality, it could well be related to genetic inheritance. Do you think someone tampered with these people's genes?"

"It's a definite possibility," Peter said, looking at Shiller. "If all the genes determining mental state in these people were replaced with genes that could lead to instability, isn't it possible to artificially transform them all into individuals with unstable mental states?"

"I haven't studied this area," Shiller said. "I'm not a neuroscientist or a geneticist. Only from a psychological standpoint, it could be possible."

"Then there's a good chance it's the case, because I understand genetics," Peter said. "Although humankind's research into genetics hasn't gone particularly deep yet, there have been some results recently, especially regarding the relationship between genes and neuroscience."

"I have a way to test this hypothesis," Peter stood up and said. "Where are the corpses of the people you killed before, Doctor?"

"They're all at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Let's go, to S.H.I.E.L.D."

Soon, Shiller and the revived Peter arrived at the place in S.H.I.E.L.D where corpses were stored. Nick was examining them, but he was very careful, with everyone wearing protective suits.

"Glad you're okay, Peter," Nick said, coming over to hug him.

"If you want to charge me, it'll have to wait until this is over," Peter said half-jokingly as he stepped aside, avoiding Nick, and looked up at the corpses stored in the safety chamber.

Nick stepped back next to Shiller and said, "I think he's becoming more and more like you, what do you think?"

"Yes, he's truly excellent, and very calm."

"What I mean is, he's getting crazier!!!" Nick roared. "How could Spider-Man be talking about 'waiting until this is over to charge me'? You've totally corrupted him!!!"

"My pleasure," Shiller said with a provocative smile.

Peter looked over the corpses and turned to Nick, "I think we can revive these corpses, and then see if the spirit bodies within are still subject to a kind of contamination. We can then be certain the contamination is indeed tied to the body. Observing how it taints the spirit body might allow us to figure out where it is hiding in the body."

Peter's line of thought had clearly taken a leap, and Nick hadn't caught up. He said, "These corpses are very dangerous, and these people have already been revived, they can't..."

"What I mean is, we simulate a brainwave, create a ghost to put into the corpse, then revive him, and watch how the ghost is contaminated by the contaminants in the corpse," Peter explained.

Nick sucked in a breath and then glared at Shiller, saying, "Look at the mad scientist you've created!"

"I'm not crazy, Nick," Peter was still trying to explain. "We found out too late, and for safety reasons, we had to take such drastic measure the instant we discovered it, without any opportunity to observe. But observation is the best way to get clues. Since we missed it in the living, why not use corpses?"

He then stepped forward and earnestly explained, "I know that if things are this way, I can't escape responsibility, but as I said, if I'm destined to be charged, it should only happen after resolving this situation. Because Gwen and others are in danger right now, saving them is more important than trying me."

"No one is looking to try you!" Nick said with certainty. "This won't be known by anyone, and those who do know won't betray you. What I'm saying is that your method is too dangerous!"

"More dangerous than trying me?"

Nick took a deep breath, looked at Peter, then at Shiller, and back at Peter. Clenching his teeth, he cursed and said, "I have to admit that trying you is indeed more dangerous because if I throw you in jail, besides this Rodriguez lunatic, I'd have Stark, Rogers, and Strange lunatics all coming after me."

"Trust me, all the other lunatics together wouldn't match me," Shiller said with pride. "You wouldn't even get a chance to see them."

Nick was just completely done with these mentally ill people. He slammed his fist on the table, saying, "I said it, I'll never allow this to happen..."

Peter pulled out his mobile phone and waggled it in front of Nick, saying, "Times have changed, Director. The Third Generation Spider-Man's account has over four million followers online..."

Nick took a deep breath, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as Peter continued, "If you don't let me get involved in the investigation, I'll go public with a confession. If you slap all of Mysterio's charges onto me, you'd better think about how you're going to deal with this bunch of lunatics during the 300 years I'll be in prison."

An expletive slipped from Nick's lips.

But in the end, he gave in and, watching Peter immediately getting busy, he said through a headache to Shiller.

"Tell me he's just drunk, really, I can't accept any other possibility besides him being sherry crazy."

"Yes, he's drunk," Shiller said with a laugh. "But he's nearly 30, not a kid anymore."