At this moment, Coulson stood perplexedly at the entrance of Nick Fury's office, watching everyone who reached this intersection turn right.
Natasha walked out of Nick's office, and Coulson stopped her, asking, "What's going on? Why are they taking the long way? I remember the closest path to the elevator should be turning left?"
"Because our genius psychologist, who charges an astronomical fee, is in the office on the left, waiting for people to come for psychological counseling."
"You actually invited him here? How much does he charge? It can't be 100 million U.S. dollars an hour, can it?"
"Not that much. Nick's report says 50 million U.S. dollars an hour."
Coulson gasped, saying, "So, if I go to him for psychological counseling now, it's like earning 50 million U.S. dollars for free?"
"You could see it that way."
"There must be a lot of people queuing up there. Can I still get in line today?"
"Quite the opposite, there's no one there," Natasha said with a shrug.
After speaking, she also turned right and left. Coulson called out, "You're going the wrong way! That's the emergency exit! The elevator is on the left!"
Natasha replied without looking back, "I want to exercise! You know, for my health!"
Coulson was even more bewildered. Immediately after, Nick walked out of his office. Coulson greeted him, "Good morning, Director."
Nick nodded to him and then said, "Recently, Natasha has been freed up from Stark Industries matters. She'll also be following up on the Hand case. Your main task is to keep an eye on that kid who swings around and make sure he doesn't cause trouble."
Coulson acknowledged him, and then he noticed Nick also turned to go right. He stopped his superior, saying, "Director, the elevator is over there. If you go right, it will take at least 5 minutes longer."
"I'm working out recently; I plan to take the stairs."
Coulson was utterly baffled. He muttered to himself and walked directly to the left, seeing that Schiller's office door was open. He knocked and entered. Schiller was engrossed in writing and looked up in surprise when he saw someone enter, saying, "Someone actually came…"
Coulson was stunned for a moment and said, "Is it not open here now? I remember during the morning meeting, they said psychological counseling starts this morning."
"Of course, it's open! Please come in, you're the first one!" Schiller stood up with his pen and even pulled out a chair for Coulson. This enthusiasm made Coulson a bit flustered. Schiller said, "Of course, you might also be the only one."
"I don't understand. Why isn't anyone coming for 50 million U.S. dollars an hour of psychological counseling, which is free and reimbursed by S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Probably because I charge 50 million U.S. dollars, and Nick agreed…"
"What's the problem with that? Doesn't that just show that the Director highly affirms your skill?"
"Hmm… Setting aside his macroeconomic understanding of expenses and his flexible application of reimbursement within the institutional structure, have you ever considered that perhaps it's precisely his affirmation of me that keeps people from coming here?"
"You mean, they think your skill is too high?"
Schiller said speechlessly, "Are you really an Agent Level 8? Then what level is Natasha? Is the max level 100 or something?"
"What Agent would be willing to find a very powerful psychologist who could see all their inner secrets?"
"I thought it was just some simple emotional regulation, like releasing anxiety or something."
"Then you can just go outside and smoke a cigarette."
"I can't do that; the damn smoke detectors here are too sensitive," Coulson said.
"Alright, are you here to relieve some depressive emotions?"
"Actually, no. It's because I see that Captain and your relationship seems good. I want him to sign my complete set of fan trading cards. Can you help me ask him?"
Schiller spread his Hands and said, "Alright, I knew it, but what can I do? This is the money I earn. If this can truly relieve your anxiety. Give me the cards; I guarantee he'll sign every single one, which will be worth my 50 million U.S. dollars an hour fee."
After Coulson left, Schiller leisurely drank coffee in the temporary office. But before he could finish slacking off for the morning, he opened the door to get some fresh air when a sharp alarm suddenly blared. A small device above his head glowed red and began to alarm frantically.
Schiller was startled, but his Spider-Sense had no reaction whatsoever. For safety, he was ready to teleport at any moment, but instead, accompanied by a sharp screech, the fire sprinkler directly opened, and the nozzles instantly sprayed a large amount of Water mist. If Schiller hadn't dodged quickly, he would have been drenched.
Coulson and a few Agents ran over, looking up at the smoke detector, then at Schiller. Schiller held his coffee cup, staring back at them.
"No smoking here."
"I wasn't smoking."
Coulson gave a suspicious look and said, "Natasha had the exact same expression as you when she got caught. Did you throw the cigarette down the sink drain?"
"Of course not, I don't smoke indoors."
Coulson indeed didn't smell any smoke. He looked up at the constantly alarming smoke detector and said, "Alright, it seems this damn thing is broken again."
"How on earth do you make a smoke detector make a hundred decibels of noise?"
"You'd understand if your home had 32 Fires in a month."
The Symbiote said in Schiller's mind, "I'm a bit dizzy and feel like throwing up. Let's go."
Schiller said, "It seems today's psychological counseling ends here. Less than an hour will still be counted as an hour. Don't forget to tell Nick to settle the bill. I'm leaving first."
Schiller left decisively because he knew this was no accident. Someone didn't want him to stay there anymore, after all, taking a 5-minute detour every time he went downstairs was quite time-consuming.
Humans are always like this: when they don't have mind-reading abilities, they always fantasize that someone can understand them and know their thoughts. But when someone truly gains mind-reading abilities, everyone avoids them instead.
Of course, in S.H.I.E.L.D., this is more likely due to Nick Fury's unconventional talent management system.
After returning to the clinic, Schiller, who hadn't slept for dozens of hours, planned to take a nap. The Symbiote played him very hypnotic music, making him fall asleep quickly. However, before he could enter deep sleep, he was woken up by a phone call.
"What?… Then what good are you to me? Go find Pepper."
"She's busy? Am I not busy then? Alright, I'm not busy, but you can forget about me entering the lab again. I really don't want to screw in light bulbs anymore."
"Yes, yes, I know it's a great, epoch-making battle armor, not a light bulb. Can you get to the point?"
"Jarvis found an anomaly in the parts storage? The number of parts is wrong? Are you sure you didn't miscount? Alright, I know… I know you're very meticulous, but how can I help with this? I can't conjure missing parts out of thin air, no, not even with magic…"
"...That's hard for me to say." Schiller paced in the clinic's living room. "Perhaps you should ask Jarvis for his speculation. He's not just a computer anymore."
"Jarvis is a bit evasive? Then don't you already know the answer? Or are you actually thinking of a suspect but unwilling to admit it…"
"No, my mind-reading certainly can't be used for such things, don't joke… I can tell you, the person you're thinking of has an 80% chance…"
After hanging up the phone, Schiller grabbed Pikachu, rubbed his cheeks, and said, "A strong steel fortress is always breached from within first. This matter is truly hard to explain."
"What trouble did that hard-shelled guy get into?" Pikachu asked.
"It seems he lost some parts of his armor, and his intelligent butler gave him a suspect he didn't want to hear, and now he's questioning his life."
"You humans always like to add trouble to yourselves," Pikachu concluded. "That kid named Peter, he actually worries about killing the hostages in a game. It's just a game. Even if the hostages die, but the kidnappers are wiped out, don't we still win?"
"So you rushed over and killed the hostages first?"
"Otherwise, that kid always procrastinates. What can I do? You guys dwell on too many meaningless things, always getting too deeply involved, filled with unnecessary worry about things that haven't happened, but always avoiding things that have already happened."
"I never thought you, as a mouse, could say something so insightful."
"Of course, I'm Detective Pikachu."
In Stark Tower, all the lights in the Stark laboratory were extinguished, leaving only the faint flickering lights of the instruments, like scattered stars.
Stark leaned against the lab bench, sitting on the floor. On his phone nearby, a symbol pulsed, indicating that Jarvis was also present.
"I am attempting to comfort you, sir."
"So you turned off all the lights?" Stark's voice was hoarse; excessive late nights had left him exhausted.
"This may help you relax. Dim lighting helps relax the brain," Jarvis said.
Stark closed his eyes. He shifted into a more relaxed position, leaning against the lab bench. He curled one leg and rested his arm on it, looking up, and said as if talking in his sleep, "…Perhaps this is karma."
"Stark Industries' weapons have caused countless people to be displaced, so those I once trusted will also leave me one by one…"
"We cannot yet confirm that Mr. Obadiah is the culprit," Jarvis said. "In the analysis, he only has approximately a 96% probability."
"You can be more direct," Stark said.
"My apologies, I mean there's still a 4% chance it's not him."
"Who are the remaining possibilities?"
"Mr. Schiller accounts for 2%, Mr. Peter for 1.2%, and you yourself for 0.8%."
"Schiller? You expect someone who can't even tell the difference between numbered mech parts 1 to 10 to steal the most important core? And Peter, that kid is a bit silly, but he wouldn't steal anything. He's a silly kid who gets shocked for half an hour just seeing me smoke."
"I am attempting to comfort you," Jarvis said.
Finally, Stark felt all the sounds of the World gradually dim. Half-asleep, he recalled Howard's face.
At that time, Uncle Obadiah and his father stood together; they were both very young.
Happy belated Lantern Festival!!!
Guests came over yesterday, so I couldn't update anymore! This chapter today was also written by stealing some time…
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