Chapter 2742: Hollywood Rhapsody (65)

Nick remained vigilant, inching closer to the door. Shiller was telling Felix a joke about the Berlin suburbs, which made Felix laugh heartily, an abnormal flush coloring his pale face.

Nick's hand rested on the gun at his waist, while Shiller leaned forward to inspect Felix's eyes and used a stethoscope to listen to his heartbeat.

Nick was still not willing to relax until Jones gave him a push and whispered in his ear, "You can't treat him as a criminal and expect him to act as a doctor at the same time. Lighten up."

Nick sighed, walked in, and said, "Since you're here, I won't beat around the bush. Felix's father was an officer who helped us when we first came here, but he's dead. So, we took over his old house as a base and have been looking after Felix."

"The kid has congenital heart disease, but he didn't undergo surgery when he was young, so he's always been frail. The doctors say he doesn't have many years to live. We need a surgeon to operate on him now. Will that be you?"

Shiller listened intently to the sounds through the stethoscope, his expression gradually becoming serious. He turned to Nick and said, "He's completely missed the best time for surgery for congenital heart disease. If we operate now, not only will the effects be less than ideal, there's a risk of greater danger."

Without exchanging any more words, Nick sat by the bed and looked at Felix, saying, "Do you want to have the surgery? Felix, it might make the rest of your life healthier, but it could also lead to your death or maintain the status quo. You're gambling on whether you can live past 25."

"Of course I want the surgery," Felix said. "If I die, I won't blame anyone. It's just God's joke. But if I survive, maybe I can do something that's good for the world, as a way to repay God for sparing me."

"Pious children will be rewarded," Shiller said. "God will surely stand by your side, and mine."

Jones was clearly worried, but he didn't speak up to stop anything. After a brief pause, Nick said, "I can secure a ward in a field hospital, but it definitely won't meet the aseptic standards of an operating room. We only have the most basic drugs, but we can get a complete set of surgical instruments. Do you think that's doable?"

"No problem," Shiller stood up and said, "Consider it a way of repaying you for helping Magda and Anya. God bless you."

"One last question," Nick said without moving aside, his tone firm, "Are you really the Church killer?"

"No, I'm not," Shiller answered with certainty. "I have no reason to kill them; I'm just a doctor."

Nick stared at him with that profound gaze unique to agents, but eventually, he stepped aside. Ten minutes after Shiller left, Nick received a call with a series of uneven tones on the other end.

Nick's eyes widened, and he immediately summoned Jonathan to transcribe the code. As the numbers started appearing on the paper, Nick's lips trembled. He slapped the table and said, "Quick, check these coordinates!"

Shiller quickly returned to Erik's home. He picked up Anya from the cradle and rocked her, sighing as he looked at the newborn baby girl.

"Do you trust my professional skills?" Shiller asked Erik.

Erik looked at him in silence but finally nodded. Shiller said, "Thank you because I have no way to prove my professional level right now. Your trust means a lot to me."

Erik had a bad feeling.

"Anya won't live past 10."

Shiller almost heard a lightning strike by his ear. He turned around, and the sparks from the exploding magnetic field disappeared, but everything around him became unstable, and all metallic objects vibrated.

"If you destroy her home now, she might not even live to see 5," Shiller said bluntly. "You should understand that in this era, this situation is almost inevitable."

Erik's lips tightened, his expression one of unprecedented sorrow. He couldn't accept this reality.

"Now you have two choices," Shiller said. "Resign yourself to burying her, or find a way for her to live in another form."

Erik almost dashed over and snatched Anya from Shiller's arms as if eager to protect her from the omnipresent God of Death with something.

"Do you have a way?" asked Erik.

"Can you sense human brainwaves?" Shiller inquired.

"No, I can't," answered Erik, surprising Shiller with his unexpected response. Shiller hesitated for a moment, then said, "Well, you're still too young; maybe you can't do it right now."

"The human body decays, but brainwaves can be preserved in another way—every person has a Psychic_Battlefield, which can accommodate not just your own brainwaves but also others'. Brainwaves are, in fact, another form of magnetic field. If you can accurately locate someone's brainwaves within the magnetic field, you might be able to save those brainwaves and transfer them into your Psychic_Battlefield."

"That way, Anya can escape the body that causes her so much suffering and live in your Psychic Space. Perhaps in the future, when technology advances, she might even get a new body."

Erik shook his head and said, "Nonsense."

"No," Shiller countered, staring back at Erik. "You know that's not true. You know you can do it. And even if you can't, you should know that there must be mutants in this world capable of doing it."

Erik stood there, stunned. Then he let out a long sigh, looking at the small figure swaddled in front of him. In fact, she was smaller than most healthy children by a considerable margin.

Since her mother spent most of her pregnancy in hardship, and her birth was traumatic, Anya's ill health was all too apparent. Eric had no rebuttal to any predictions about her short lifespan, for he had internally accepted this fact but didn't want to face it.

"Could there really be such a mutant?" he wondered aloud.

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"There will be," Shiller said, "but you have to promise me that when you find him, you must only seem attracted to him, as if you've found the god you were looking for, and not for anything else."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't appear to be a willing participant, he will definitely find a way to make you willing—and you are a natural kidnapper; losing yourself is not a good thing."

At that time, Erik felt Shiller was talking nonsense.

"I haven't seen Anya for too long," Charles said, his tone tinged with reproach. To Erik, this sounded like an accusation of not letting him into his mind for too long.

Shiller was right, if he was a natural kidnapper, then Charles was a natural hostage, always prone to playing the victim, a bit too adept at it.

Finally, Erik looked up from his assignments. Charles thought they could finally talk, but then Erik pulled out two sets of medical records from somewhere. Charles glanced at them and realized they were Wanda's sons' health checks.

"Wanda has asked me to look after her kids for two days," Charles said. "I've never actually taken care of such small children; maybe I'll need to ask for your help."

Of course, Charles was also very good at dressing himself up as sweet bait, casting conditions others couldn't refuse.

Erik was still looking at the medical records, seeming very engrossed, occasionally drifting into memories, apparently comparing the similarities and differences between these two children and Anya's situation back then.

"Wanda asked me whether she should let her father walk her down the aisle to Jarvis on their official wedding day. She told me she doesn't like that part as it makes her feel like a controlled object, but she respects tradition and wonders whether to omit it…"

Here it came again. If sweet, honeyed bait still couldn't tempt the target, then sharp hooks would follow. At this point, almost no one could refuse.

Erik put down the documents in his hands and looked at him, "If I go, I won't place her hand in any man's hand, unless he can take her away from me."

"You can't do that, Erik," Charles said helplessly. "Children have to grow up eventually. Maybe Anyya is the same; she also has to grow up, start a family, and live her life. It's unfair to keep her a child forever."

It was the same tactic; no one knew better than a mind-reading master how to pierce someone's heart, but Erik had grown accustomed to it over the many decades.

"Helen Stark is already planning to regress to being five years old," Erik said. "That shows that children don't think growing up is such a good thing. If Anya thought so, she wouldn't have run off to play with the raccoon and the yellow rat."

Charles sighed deeply, displaying a complete inability to persuade Erik.

"I think our act is almost over," Erik said. "Today's mutants no longer have time to play the victim. Haven't you considered changing the play?"

"What are you saying?"

"Can we really not control it?" Erik asked, looking into Charles's eyes. "Is there ever a moment when mutants are completely without choice, forced into a corner?"

Charles stopped talking.

"Like all our losses of control, like all the mutants' losses of control, were they truly without choice? Or was it just us wanting to vent our dissatisfaction, to find a reason for our unrestrained slaughter, to continue playing the victim who God doesn't look after, to soothe the fragile souls of those feeble humans, to alleviate their jealousy?"

"You can't say that, Erik. There are many mutants who indeed aren't in control…"

"But they don't cause much destruction," Erik continued, still intently gazing into Charles's eyes. "The ten worst cases of mutant loss of control in history were all caused by near flawless Alpha-level or higher mutants, but Alpha-level and Omega-level mutants aren't that out of control, are they?"

"Powers can get out of control…"

"But how can ants who have been scared out of their wits have the nerve to provoke a lion just after a bout of anger? It's you who demand they act panicked and helpless, as if it's all beyond their control, and they too are victims."

The look of astonishment and question on Charles's face finally disappeared. He seemed a bit petulant as he also fixed his gaze on Erik's face.

"You're just using this tactic to kidnap ordinary people, telling them that even though we are powerful, we have weaknesses, so we're no different from them. Or to put it bluntly, you're numbing them."

"You let powerful mutants show their uncontrollability and pain so that all humans will think there's nothing good about being a mutant, but you know very well how well a mutant with flawless abilities has it."

"For this, you even sat in a wheelchair for decades, just so humans would think, mutants are powerful, but what's the cost? There really isn't any cost; you're just acting."

"That's just to reduce the hostility of humans," Charles looked away and said. "As long as they feel we are not doing so well, they won't target us so easily…"

"It's this act that gives them the courage to target us, thinking that a swarm of ants could defeat a weakened lion. It makes it easier for the persecuted mutants to band together. You know how many such children Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters has taken in."

Finally, Charles couldn't hold back. He slammed his hand on the table. "Erik, do you want to fight?"

"Throwing a tantrum." Erik commented.

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