Chapter 60 Normal Life in Early Winter (Part 1)_1

The weather in New York is much better than in Gotham, despite already being winter, it's still quite sunny. From the window on the third floor of the clinic, you can still clearly see the hustle and bustle of cars on the highway in the skyline.

Shiller got up early. Pikachu pushed the door open all at once with his short paws and stretched out, saying, "Your old-fashioned kettle was just too loud! Yawn, where did you get such an antique?"

As Shiller walked down the stairs, Pikachu slid down from the handrail and arrived at the dining room on the second floor, where the kettle was steaming and buzzing sharply from time to time.

Shiller lifted the kettle with magic and put it on the table. Then he waved his hands and a flat-bottomed frying pan flew over. He poured some olive oil into it and started making breakfast.

Pikachu banged open the refrigerator door and started rummaging for something to eat, all the while grumbling, "I really should throw away all these damn blue veined cheese, how can they smell this bad! Oh... and these damned lettuces, they taste like chewing plastic, let me see… here it is! My Cheddar cheese! Put this in my breakfast sandwich later, and my favorite can of spam, cut it open and sandwich it in the middle, remember, make sure to cut it thick..."

At this moment, the front door of the clinic downstairs rang, and Shiller heard Peter's voice followed by his footsteps coming up: "Sir! I'm here! I borrowed a toolbox from my uncle. I will definitely be able to repair that damn circuit breaker today..."

As he was coming up, the door of the refrigerator that was left open blocked his view. He casually swung it closed, then a "bang" was heard, followed by a scream, "Oh! Shit!! My back!!!"

Peter hastily re-opened the refrigerator door, where he found Pikachu sprawled on the refrigerator shelf. His back had hit the lid of a can that was placed on the refrigerator door.

Peter picked him up and then said, "You actually have a back? Where is it?"

"Hey, kid, don't push me to expose you, it wasn't the circuit breaker that was broken yesterday, it was clear that you lost thirty lives and still couldn't pass the level..."

Peter quickly covered Pikachu's mouth and tried to change the subject, "Dr. Shiller, what are you making? It smells so good!"

"Just a regular fried sandwich, I can make a bigger one for you if you want."

"Okay, but no need for too big, my appetite has decreased recently."

"That's great news." said Shiller while frying eggs, "At least your aunt won't have to cook so much that her wrists hurt."

Peter was chatting with Shiller when he noticed the ring on Shiller's ring finger. Pikachu saw the subtle change in Peter's expression, looked around, then said, "We didn't unplug the game cassette from yesterday, do you want to play another round?"

Peter did not understand but Pikachu's tail swished towards the lower floor, then Peter understood and immediately followed Pikachu downstairs.

After a while, they both came back whispering, Pikachu jumped onto the stove and watched Shiller.

Shiller was flipping over the golden center of the fried egg with a spatula. Peter was goofying around behind Pikachu, who shrugged and said, "Hmm, okay, I think… cooking for us must be tough for you, how about we go out to eat?"

Shiller looked at him in surprise and said, "Is the sun rising from the west today? Normally at this time, you'd only ask me to fry the eggs a little softer."

"What I'm saying is... okay, nevermind, but I always feel that, you humans shouldn't keep everything bottled up, it's not good for your health…"

"I'm a psychologist, I understand this more than you do, who do you think I'm earning money from?" Shiller said.

Pikachu swished his tail, he was just about to say something more when Peter picked him up, and then Peter laughed awkwardly, "Ha ha, doctor, we will go play a game first, then we will come back to help you."

Pikachu gave Peter a hard smack with his tail, as payback for his earlier blow to his back. Peter wouldn't let it go and started messing around with Pikachu's ears. The two of them teased each other while going downstairs.

Shiller was somewhat bemused, he had the impression that Peter was hiding something from him.

After a while, Steve, who just finished his morning run, also came in. He wiped his sweat with a towel, then followed the smell to the second floor and said, "This old building is poorly structured, the kitchen is even on the second floor."

"Thank goodness I can afford a good range hood." Shiller said.

"Then also be thankful to Nick, he hasn't been stingy with your bonuses, has he?"

"What? He sent you a bonus again under what pretext? How much did you pocket? 30% or 20%?"

"Not counting taxes, just 18%." Steve shrugged and said.

"His understanding of distribution of additional income is really becoming more and more global."

Steve put the towel on the railing, then casually opened the fridge and said, "Let me see, where's my steak from last time? Oh, it's here, a small portion is left, I think I can make a beef cheeseburger, where's the cheese? I remember there was still half a block left last time..."

"Stop looking, have you forgotten there's a mouse like Jerry here? Besides blue veined cheese that can survive, what cheese can live past the second day?"

"Heavens! That was almost two pounds of cheese, he ate all of it? Not even a bit left?"

"Not exactly, not just him, Peter made a Margherita pizza last time and used at least one pound."

Steve shook his head and closed the fridge, saying, "Young people these days really don't know how to save. Are there any good convenience stores in Hell's Kitchen? I can even buy some slices of cheese."

"Go right after you get out, then walk two blocks ahead to Mrs. Helena's place. Of course, you might want to specifically mention you are there to buy cheese, or she might think you're applying for a job."

"Applying for a job? What kind of job would this damn place have?"

"Well, Mrs. Helena owns three strip clubs that are doing quite well. She would probably love someone like you."

Steve grimaced, "I'd better take a detour and buy it after I leave Hell's Kitchen."

Then he came over, patted Shiller's shoulder, and said, "Hey, I know you're a doctor, but doctors are just ordinary people too. Therapists can't do everything. If you have anything you want to talk about, feel free to come to me. We're friends, aren't we?"

After saying this, he turned and left, leaving Shiller utterly baffled. He just got up in the morning to make breakfast and fry an egg, why is everyone's attitude so strange?

Not long after Steve had left, Stark came in through the window clad in his Iron Man suit, carrying a pile of documents. The cold wind brought in by his armor was gusting into the room of the psychological clinic.

Shiller turned and was startled by the dark circles under Stark's eyes. "Damn it, what happened to you?"

"Oh, could it be... did Miss Pepper take a leave today?"

"What are you talking about? I've been researching all night for the material you brought over yesterday."

After saying this, he put the pile of documents on Shiller's table, saying, "There hasn't been much progress in neural interfacing technology. Uncle Obadiah is still in a coma, and I can't question him about it, but I have come up with another solution."

Iron Man, still in his armor, directly pointed at one part of the documents with his metal-covered gauntlet, saying, "If aging or dead neurons can't be rejuvenated, we can think about replacing them with mechanical ones, just like replacing a heart."

"I don't need you to explain the theory to me, I just want to know, what's it's feasibility?"

Stark crossed his arms and stared at the blueprint while saying, "You've got to know, even if I'm a genius, I can't pull technology out of thin air. More importantly, even if I have this technology, it must go through numerous safety tests before it can be used."

Stark glanced at the ring on Shiller's finger, touched his own lips, and then said, "If you are in desperate need, I can call for a consultation on neuroscience under the name of Stark Group, which could call upon the world's most famous neuroscience experts."

"Of course, it would be best if you could bring along the patient, otherwise, they can't just come up with a solution out of thin air."

"That might be difficult," Shiller said.

The fact was, it wasn't about how he could bring a DC character to Marvel, even if he could manage to do so, due to the inconsistency in the flow of time between the two worlds, lots of problems could occur, and it might entail huge risks.

Shiller was well aware that he had a rather important mission in DC World that differed from his purpose in Marvel - to get away from the grip of his enemy.

His enemy was no ordinary person. Firstly, he could hire Deathstroke to kill him. The words that Deathstroke left him with before he left had already revealed plenty of information. When Shiller wanted to pay him to kill his employer instead, the first reaction from Deathstroke was "you can't afford it."

Even when Shiller hinted that the world's richest man would pay for it, Deathstroke still left without hesitation. This indicated that even with enough money, it wasn't worth it for him to switch sides completely.

The ability to lead Deathstroke, one of the world's top mercenaries, to make such judgement could already explain a lot. It seemed that the original host was involved in something more than just a simple interest conflict. There must be a larger conspiracy at play.

For this reason, Shiller hoped that Victor could become his ally to compensate for his lack of knowledge in engineering and mechanics. Therefore, he was willing to do his best to help Victor's wife and avoid the possibility of Victor becoming Mr. Freeze. However, this doesn't mean that he was willing to risk moving patients back and forth between the two worlds.

Moreover, this couldn't fundamentally solve the problem. If DC's expert scholars couldn't cure this disease, ordinary experts in Marvel probably wouldn't be able to do it either.

Shiller kept silent as he thought about this, then finally, Stark couldn't help but ask, "She ... I mean ... she's okay, right?"

Shiller asked, "What?"

Stark, somewhat reluctant, rubbed his forehead and said, "I heard from Coulson that your wife's condition isn't very good."

Shiller was startled. Where did this rumor come from? Where did he get a wife from?!

He was wondering why everyone's attitude was so strange today!

Soon he recalled the first person he went to see after returning to Marvel — the future Doctor Strange who is now a neurosurgeon.

He was such a sly fox!

Shiller angrily thought to the Symbiont in his mind, "Next time, remember to eat Strange's brain. It's not like he's using it for anything useful."