Batman Incident (20)

On the rooftop of Stark Tower, Schiller put the stopper on a jar containing a clump of black Slime. Gray Mist was communicating with Venom via telepathy. Venom said, "Don't you feel any guilt for deceiving such a naive kid?"

"It's as if you're not an accomplice. If he had enough negative emotions to trigger the Dark Tide of Fear, I wouldn't have resorted to this drastic measure."

"And..." Schiller paused, then said to Venom, "I've discovered you have great potential as a movie director. The scene you made up about Stark's death really scared Peter."

"I know that scoundrel too well. He only knows one trick from beginning to end, and it's bound to come true sooner or later."

Schiller sighed, more as if to relax, and said, "I really didn't expect those Multiverse guys to come so early. If I don't scare them away with this trick, there will never be peace again."

Venom said, "Our deal is done. Now you should be able to choose a host for myself, right?"

"Of course, but given your dangerousness and uncontrollability, you can only choose one of the hosts you have already parasitized."

"So, who are you going to choose? Stark? Bruce? Or..."

"Reporter!!!! I choose that reporter!!!!" Venom roared decisively.

"Oh, I almost forgot, you also parasitized a human journalist. Okay, I'll ship you to his house tomorrow."

"But just like we agreed, you'd better not change hosts easily, and don't go around eating human heads on the streets, or I'll have the Gray Mist bite you."

Venom emitted a nasal sound remarkably similar to Stark's, filled with reluctance.

After standing on the rooftop for a while, footsteps soon came from behind. Nick walked over and stood next to Schiller. Nick said, "This time you've caused quite a commotion, haven't you?"

"What? This is beyond your expectations, Director?"

"I'm not the director, just like you, do you want to call yourself a stagehand?"

"Isn't that so?" Schiller didn't turn to look at Nick, but kept his eyes on the lights of the New York skyline. He said, "Don't tell me that the growing popularity of the Bat God among vampires in recent years is just a coincidence."

"Don't tell me that the prophecy of the arrival of the Bat God was just a coincidence, right on the eve of the moderates' attempt to manipulate the election."

"Who knows? There are just so many coincidences in this world."

"Yes, it's a coincidence exclusive to S.H.I.E.L.D.., and you have the final say on everything."

"Let's talk about the good news," Nick said, arms crossed. "The bats infected with the Lizard Serum are no longer usable, right? The raw materials are becoming increasingly scarce, and we're facing difficulties in starting production..."

Where should the sanatorium be located?

"It's still Manhattan, you know, it's closer to their homes."

"However, it's too late to build a new sanatorium. There's an old bank there built in the 1930s, and its new owner went out of business because he couldn't pay the inheritance tax. Construction will start there tomorrow."

How much usable bat material is left?

"The police and S.H.I.E.L.D. agent have suffered heavy casualties on the battlefield. We can send out less than one-tenth of them to pursue the suspects, and many of those are untrained green recruits who can't even hold a gun properly. The Cold Gun's fuel supply is also running low, so we can't do anything about it..."

"So how many did you report?"

"Only 12 left. We only have 12 precious bats with Immortality Factor left." Nick shrugged.

"Too many." Schiller said without thinking, "Let's leave two. Connors has some good long-term cryopreservation technology. Freeze the remaining 10 and put them in your S.H.I.E.L.D.. warehouse. We'll sell them slowly after the price has increased a thousandfold."

"Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration? Several thousand armed police officers and hundreds of S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and they only managed to capture two bats when the bats were defeated?"

"Thousands of people and hundreds of agent? You're underestimating the brutality of this war. By the time of the final pursuit, only 10 armed police officers and one agent remained. That's not an exaggeration, is it?"

"Okay, but the problem is, Natasha, Coulson, Hawkeye, and Daisy all have to go out on missions soon. Which of them are you planning to sacrifice?" Nick asked.

"Don't even think about excuses like injuries. Hawkeye has been injured more than 80 times this year, and his medical insurance coverage has been used up four times over. Daisy has also been seriously injured more than 20 times..."

Schiller touched his forehead and said, "It's not even summer yet, and you've already reimbursed all their quotas. Don't you really plan to leave any redundancy for unexpected situations?"

"Emergency? S.H.I.E.L.D. is a daily occurrence at S. H. I. E. L. D."

"Okay, if you're willing to raise my consultation fee a little bit more, I'll try to convince Osborn and Stark to take on the project to rebuild the Brooklyn Bridge."

"In the name of charity? There's not much room for maneuver here, after all, everyone can see the bridge being built."

"If this scale of charity doesn't meet your needs, then go ahead with a larger-scale one. You should know that better than I do..." Schiller waved his hand and said.

"Sending war correspondents, filming post-war ruins, publicizing the horrors of war, mobilizing charitable organizations, hosting fundraising dinners, attracting celebrities, socialites, brands, and political parties..."

"If this is still not enough, then let's announce a sanction against vampires."

Nick sighed and said, "So far, our approach remains conservative, for many reasons. The Security Council will not agree to launch large-scale sanctions."

"If you were willing to give them one of your two precious raw materials, I think they would be tempted, right?"

"You're planning to deceive even your own people?"

"Don't talk nonsense. There were only two to begin with. The remaining 10 are just S.H.I.E.L.D..'s emergency reserve funds, which they just haven't had time to monetize yet."

On the rooftop of Stark Tower, Schiller and Nick gazed at the dazzling New York skyline. Inside Stark Tower, Stark lay in his hospital bed, wrapped up like the Mummy. He watched Peter walk back and forth in front of him and said, "Hey, stop spinning me, you're making me dizzy."

"When exactly is the Doctor arriving? There shouldn't be any traffic at this time, right?"

Peter had barely finished speaking when Strange's voice, accompanied by footsteps, appeared outside the door. He said, "How I wish I were seeing a corpse Stark."

He walked in, looking sleepy, clearly having been woken up in the middle of the night. He irritably adjusted the monitoring equipment beside him. Peter, peering in, asked tentatively, "Doctor Strange, is Mr. Stark alright? He was quite badly injured..."

"If he were really seriously injured, you would be seeing the pastor now, not me."

Strange roughly pulled the pillow off Stark's head, causing Stark's head to hit the corner of the bed. He screamed, "You quack! Are you trying to murder me?!"

"I may be unscrupulous, but I am definitely not a quack doctor."

Stark muttered a few words and said, "You Doctor are all the same..."

"Alright, the checkup is done. You're fine and should live to see the end. Pay up and then take me back to sleep."

Stark looked him up and down and said, "What did you check? You just turned the equipment on and off. Don't think I don't know these things. Who do you think you are dealing with? I am Stark. Don't try to fool me."

Strange said impatiently, "Then you can check yourself. Take me back."

"Don't rush off, I have a big business deal to discuss with you." Schiller appeared at the door, handing Strange a proposal. Strange took it, glanced at it, and said, "Stark - Osborn Associates, Chief Consultant Appointment Letter?"

"What kind of company is this?" Strange asked in confusion. "How come I didn't know that Stark and Osborn had joined forces, and that it was a pharmaceutical company?"

He flipped through the job offer and said, "Besides, I'm a Doctor, I'm not going to be a drug salesman."

"You might as well turn to the last page and look at that number."

Strange looked up at Schiller, flipped to the last page of the offer letter with some skepticism, and then focused his gaze on the number.

In a second, he closed the offer letter, coughed twice, straightened his collar, stuffed the offer letter into his briefcase, and said, "I am currently employed by New York Presbyterian Hospital, and my contract has not expired. You cannot make me violate the spirit of my contract."

"I know, of course I know, and I'm a very contract-conscious person myself," Schiller said with a smile. "The staff café upstairs should still be open; we might as well go there to discuss things in detail."

After the two Doctor left, Stark and Peter stared at each other, and Stark said, "So, what about my test?"

At that moment, Connors walked in. He had heard what Stark said and said, "Although it has been several years since my last clinical trial, I can still reluctantly examine you."

"Oh no! Wait! No need, I think I'm fine!"

"Don't worry, I have extensive experience in battlefield medics." With that, he walked over and suddenly lowered the upper part of Stark's bed, causing Stark to cry out in pain from the jolting motion.

Peter hesitated, wanting to step forward and stop Connors's violence, but Connors glanced at him and said, "Peter, Dr. Ethan wants you to come up; he probably has something to say."

Peter paused for a few seconds, first looking at Stark, who was covered in bandages, then at Connors, whose scales had not yet faded, before running away in a flash under Stark's indignant gaze.

Stark slammed his fist on the bed with his the One usable left hand and said, "That heartless bastard! If it weren't for saving him, I wouldn't be injured like this!"

Holding up a diagnostic report, Connors said, "Now we have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

"Don't play that game with me, let's talk about it all at once."

"The good news is that there's really nothing wrong with your spine and nervous system. The bad news is that the problem is with that thing in your chest."

Stark stiffened for a moment, then said, "There's nothing wrong with this thing on my chest."

"Yinsen explained to me the basic principle of the reactor on your chest. Although my expertise lies in biology, I also have some knowledge of mechanics and physics. Your physical examination report tells me that there are serious problems with this thing."

"In your pursuit of greater power for the mecha, you used too much palladium. It seems that if you don't come up with a solution sooner or later, you will die from poisoning."

Stark turned his head away; clearly, he didn't want to discuss the matter. Connors put down the report, looked Stark in the eye, and said, "You understand this better than anyone, but you just won't change. I'm sure your friends have all tried to persuade you, but you're the most stubborn person I've ever met."