Chapter 2639: Mayfly World (Part Four)

Stark hadn't fully stepped into Doctor Schiller's office at Arkham Sanatorium when he saw a girl with flowing red hair, dressed in a white sweater, busily doing something at the desk.

Upon hearing footsteps, the girl, without turning her head, said, "Doctor Schiller, I must say your gardening skills are as terrible as another you and his butler's, I don't know how you managed to kill a cactus..."

Turning her head, Stark confirmed that she must be an overworked college student rushing to meet deadlines—she was their target today, as no other woman qualified to enter the sanatorium would dress like that.

"Oh, you are... you are..." The girl stuttered for a while, then went forward to shake hands, saying, "Hello, I am Pamela Isley, you are that guy, what's his name, Iron Man, right?"

"I remember we met at the music festival."

"Sorry, I've been up for three nights straight, my memory is really suffering," Pamela scratched her head, creating a peak at the top of her dense hair.

Schiller went forward to smooth her hair and said, "Are you serious? Three nights without sleep?"

Pamela looked at him with a resentful gaze and said, "Who do you think is responsible for my three sleepless nights? I was already busy dealing with the debt collection agency with Harley, and you had to issue an urgent job."

"No choice, our cosmos doesn't have an economic crisis, don't you want the remuneration?"

"It's exactly because I want the remuneration that I am so tired," Pamela sighed and hugged a plant pot from under the table.

"Isn't that saffron?" Stark squinted at the plant, which was clearly not mature yet, not flowering, with a small bud at the top of the main body.

"After a few days of research, the biggest problem with your unsuccessful cultivation of magical plants is that you didn't consider the biggest difference between the growth environments of wild plants and greenhouse plants."

"What is it?"

"Oxygen levels," Pamela said irritably, slamming the flower pot on the table, "The samples of wild plants you gave me grow at altitudes above four thousand meters, but the greenhouse samples show no traits of high-altitude growth."

"But the greenhouse is built on the plateau."

"I'd also like to know how that happens," Pamela said. "Who would add an oxygen supply system to a greenhouse for no reason?"

After thinking for a bit, Schiller guessed, "They might have thought high oxygen levels would benefit plant growth; if plants grow well in low oxygen, wouldn't they grow even better with more oxygen?"

Pamela shook her head like a wave drum, saying, "That just shows how your researchers here don't understand botany one bit. Many plants' special nutrients are to adapt to extremely harsh environments."

"Like how more sugar accumulates when there's a great temperature difference between day and night?" Stark asked. He wasn't familiar with botany—in fact, he wasn't particularly skilled in biology either—but he knew the systematic nature of science is such that if you understand one part, you understand the whole.

"Not exactly the same, but the principle is similar," Pamela said. "If your researchers choose to create the most beneficial environments for all plants, it might indeed promote lush growth, but what we want aren't ornamental plants. It's not that the larger the plants grow, the more active ingredients they contain."

Schiller then understood where Strange's misconception lay; putting it plainly, the guy was a surgeon, and surgeons never understand research.

According to common sense for most people, to make something grow well, it should be in the most favorable conditions, provided with ample nutrients. However, most people only know a little about growing flowers, which of course require meticulous care, but this doesn't work with medicinal plants.

Or to say, most practical plants can't simply be flooded with water and fertilizer. It's not that the milder the climate and the more fertilizer provided, the better they will grow; one must consider the nature of the plants, their original growing environments, and how they grow in other various conditions.

"Didn't Harley come?" Schiller asked. He was surprised that Harley didn't join the excitement when she often nagged Schiller about wanting to play here. Now that she was actually invited, why didn't she come?

Pamela rolled her eyes slightly and said, "Who do you think is the reason she can't come? Isn't it because you found her a load of troublesome things to deal with? The house isn't sold yet."

Schiller smiled, sat down in the chair, spun around, and said, "The Arrogant old relic loves those manor-like buildings, right? I can't believe he's willing to sell."

"Whether it'll sell is another matter," Pamela pondered before saying, "Although you want Harley and Robin to come, from my professional experience, bringing so many people here is just creating chaos."

"Who do you think should come, then?"

"Forget the Robins, they have their own important things to do," Pamela also sat down on a nearby armchair and said, "Dick is busy with his love life, Tim is busy with competitions, Jason has to earn money to support those buddies of his from the past."

"Harley has to sell the house, her shops aren't doing well, she has to oversee them, Little Zha is busy with the moving company, Constantine has to watch the bookstore..." Pamela counted on her fingers, but after counting, there weren't many people left.

"So you mean, besides you, no one can come?"

"Not exactly, do you remember that kid who runs super fast?"

"Barry Allen?"

"Yes, he's in junior high school, not too busy with school, his parents have stable jobs, no economic pressure, he'll be a great help," Pamela replied.

After thinking, Schiller found the idea reasonable and asked, "Anyone else?"

"Aren't you the project leader? Managing personnel should earn extra money," Pamela remarked.

"Then maybe not, let me think, that kid named Martin might be useful, he's not busy lately, Aisha might also help, provided she doesn't nibble everywhere."

"Helen has recently returned to Earth," Stark interjected. "I think she should be able to lend a hand."

"That should be about right," Schiller stood up and said, "After all, we still have so many mages and students, the villagers can help too; if that's not enough, we can transfer more people from Gotham Magic Academy."

"Are we setting out now?" Pamela picked up the plant and asked, "How do we get there?"

"We'll be taking the teleportation gate, of course. Follow me."

Shiller led them to the underground platform of the Arkham Sanatorium shuttle station, where the teleportation gate was housed. After activating the portal, they stepped through and were astounded by the sight before them.

The scenery within Shambhala was stunningly beautiful, with lush greenery quite different from that of the Snowy Plateau. In the thinner, more transparent air, everything appeared full of life.

Shiller moved forward but didn't hear any footsteps behind him. Turning around, he found Stark clutching his own neck, toppling to the left, while Pamela was rolling her eyes back, falling to the right.

Wait, hadn't he made fun of Strange before for forgetting about altitude sickness?

"Someone! Help!" Shiller shouted, "People have fainted from altitude sickness!"

When Stark came to again, he found himself lying in a dimly lit cabin, with Pamela lying on another bed beside him.

He took a deep breath and roared, "Shiller!!!"

Shiller walked in, poking at his ear, "What are you yelling about? Didn't you forget too?"

Stark was at a loss for words. After a moment of silence, he asked, "How high are we?"

"Currently at 5,500 meters. You're in the lowest house of the lowest village. The highest reaches up to 7,000 meters."

Taking a deep sigh, Stark then said, "Does Steven know?"

"He's already laughed at you twice, but he's busy with something else now, no time to come here. Want me to call him over to laugh at you in person?"

"No need." Stark gritted his teeth, "What on Earth are these mages up to? With such powerful magic, couldn't they improve the living conditions here?"

"Didn't you understand the principle that Little Pa explained? Not everything that grows in a greenhouse thrives. The mages see this as a form of ascetic practice."

"Masochism," evaluated Stark.

He put a little effort into sitting up, and noticed he didn't feel the suffocating sensation anymore. Shiller pointed to a Magic Light Ball floating next to him and said, "This is the oxygenation technology used in greenhouses. You'll need to live with it for quite a long time from now on."

"The Mobile Weakling Badge presented to me by Steve, right?" Stark said irritably, "I refuse to believe he doesn't even have time to cast an invisibility spell."

"Look on the bright side, at least you have company," Shiller pointed at Pamela lying beside him.

Just as Stark was about to feel a bit happier, a figure rushed over, calling out excitedly, "Dad, look at the flowers I picked!"

Helen rushed in; she had reached the Asgardians' growth stasis period and would no longer age. This period would last for about 500 years, during which divine power would accumulate in her body, transforming it to be stronger.

The little girl held a bunch of wildflowers in her hands, red, yellow, and white, streaking the ground. Aisha was also bouncing in after her, but the flowers were stuffed in her mouth instead.

Even though Aisha was born earlier than Helen, she grew slower and was thus shorter than Helen, making Helen appear more like the older sister.

"Don't you two feel uncomfortable?" Stark virtually immediately regretted his stupid question—how could these two ancient Godzillas possibly be uncomfortable?

Helen looked puzzled, glancing at the flowers and saying, "Uncomfortable? Why would we be?... Oh, I see, altitude sickness, right? I think I evolved away from the adverse reaction in the first second I got here; I feel fine."

Aisha i was trying to snatch the flowers from Helen, stirring up a commotion that woke Pamela. After opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and said irritably, "Move that bright thing a little farther away."

Just as Stark was about to mock her, he noticed that even without the light ball, Pamela didn't seem to suffer much; her complexion was rapidly returning to normal.

"You can adapt to altitude sickness?"

"I have the blessing of plants. Don't forget, plants are best at adapting to environments." Pamela was still weak but much better, "It may be slow, but I'll adapt eventually."

"It seems you're the only weakling here," Shiller said to Stark with a smile.

"Impossible, aren't there two others coming?"

"They're already here." Shiller shouted at the air, "Barry, stop running around, come over and say hello."

In an instant, a flash of gold zoomed by, and Barry appeared beside Stark.

"Come here, kid, tell me if you're out of breath?"

"I can't say I'm not if I stop." Barry replied, "But as long as I run fast enough, the feeling of suffocation can't catch up to me."

"But aren't you standing in front of me now?"

"Of course not, what's standing in front of you is just a residual image. I'm actually running circles around you at superluminal speed, I'm just pausing here every second, so you can see a stationary me."