Schiller found Stark teetering on the edge of madness. His mental state was a complete mess, and with telepathy, Schiller got a headache just from the chaotic, tangled thoughts crashing into him through the wall.
Schiller took a deep breath and walked in. Stark looked up, rolled his eyes, and gave Schiller a huge eye-roll.
He looked somewhat haggard, but not disheveled. The consequence of caring so much about appearances was that Schiller could tell he was already on the verge of collapse, merely unwilling to show it in front of Pepper.
Schiller cleared his throat. Pepper gave Stark a worried look, then turned and left. Schiller sat across from Stark and said, "Mr. Stark, may I ask you a question?"
"What do you want to ask? Are you going to play mystic games and talk philosophy with me? Or chat about those utterly useless psychological theories?"
"Ah, neither. I wanted to ask what my hourly rate is."
Stark was clearly stunned by the question. He said in utter disbelief, "What did you say?"
"I said I'd like to know the price of my psychological consultation, because I was drunk when Miss Pepper discussed it with me, and I forgot everything when I woke up," Schiller said.
Stark had nothing to say. He waved a hand and said, "Shouldn't you pick some abstract topic, something all you psychologists talk about... like the meaning of life, the object of one's sorrow, that sort of thing..."
"Yes, that comes later, after the consultation officially begins. But first, I need to confirm whether you can afford my consultation fee."
Stark's eyes widened in shock. "What did you say?! Do you know who I am? God, are you some kind of caveman? You don't know me? You don't recognize Stark Tower?"
"Yes, I know you're very rich, Mr. Stark. But how much money you have and how much you're willing to pay are two different things."
"...How much do you want?"
"One million dollars an hour. Non-negotiable."
"Fine! Fine! You mercenary lunatic Doctor, are you crazy? One million dollars! I could hire a dozen beautiful women on a yacht for that..."
"I seem to recall someone saying he was very rich."
Schiller truly left Stark speechless. He said, "Did Pepper send you here to mess with me? Fine! Go tell her! She succeeded! I already explained that the party I threw last time was only to say goodbye to those ex-girlfriends. I absolutely wasn't trying to do anything else. Why won't she believe me?!"
Schiller said, "A dozen beautiful women on a yacht will not make you feel better, sir, especially when you feel like you're about to die."
Stark's exaggerated gestures stopped. He stiffened, then turned to look at Schiller with suspicious eyes.
Schiller sat there calmly and said, "You're very afraid of dying right now. But perhaps what frightens you most isn't death itself, but not having the chance to make up for your mistakes..."
"Bullshit. Who are you? Who the hell are you?" Stark began to grow agitated. "Did Pepper tell you something... No, that's not right. She doesn't know either. You..."
Stark stared straight at Schiller. "Don't pull these cheap tricks on me. I don't believe there's any damned mind-reading in this world."
"There is no mind-reading in this world. There is only psychology," Schiller said.
He stood and said to Stark, "You can keep brushing me off if you like. My fee is one million dollars an hour. If we waste a little more time, I'll be able to buy a new car."
Stark got a headache from Schiller's habit of being serious one moment and rambling the next. "How did you figure it out? Through that ridiculous psychology?"
"That isn't important. What matters is that the only advice I can give you is to solve the problem of death first. Of course, you may think that's easy for me to say."
"But the method is..."
Schiller paused. Stark stared at him with wide eyes. Schiller said, "Pay a fifty percent deposit first, then we can begin the rest of the treatment."
Stark was practically steaming from the ears and snorting through his nose. Schiller had angered him to the point of laughter. He picked up the phone and called Pepper. "Sweetheart, where did you find a vampire Doctor?... Yes, he quoted me one million dollars an hour..."
Schiller snatched the phone directly from him and said, "Miss Pepper, Mr. Stark measures one million dollars in units of beautiful women per yacht..."
Then he hung up, shook the phone, and said, "It'll be in my account in five minutes."
Stark continued glaring at him.
Stark folded his arms. "Go on, then. Let's see what you can come up with."
"What have you been avoiding all this time?"
"What? What have I been avoiding?"
"You'd better ask yourself. The answer is hidden in there. I'm not talking about Miss Pepper's life-threatening phone calls or flirtatious texts from your ex-girlfriends. I mean it..."
Leaning against the desk with his arms folded, Schiller pushed up his glasses. "I've never seen such a rare case before. Very unique. Extremely uncommon..."
Stark shuddered. "Hey, I don't like men. Stay away from me."
"You aren't as absurd as you pretend to be. I know someone very much like you. He disguised himself as a playboy, like some fool who drifted through life and never thought about tomorrow."
"But he was smart. Too smart. So he had always been waiting for someone to give him an answer, and that answer came from... his past."
Stark looked at Schiller, and Schiller looked back at him. Stark said quietly, "I'll give you two million dollars. Leave this place. I'll tell Pepper your treatment was effective. I..."
"If I'm not mistaken, Miss Pepper is listening right now," Schiller said.
Stark fell silent. Schiller said, "Two million dollars, and I'll tell you a genuinely useful method."
"Deal."
"Everything you want to know is in the past you avoid most. I saw it in the news once—the founder of Stark Industries, your father..."
"Enough," Stark said.
He turned away, and Schiller could not see his expression. Stark's voice trembled slightly as he said, "Pepper will transfer your consultation fee. Leave."
"...He would be willing to give you a second life. God bless you."
"Get out!!!"
After Schiller left, Stark smashed the wineglass on the table. Meanwhile, in a S.H.I.E.L.D. office, Nick Fury pressed a hand to his earpiece and said, "Investigate a psychologist named Schiller immediately. I want all his information at once."
After Schiller left, a large sum of money soon arrived in his account. He thought happily that although Stark was difficult to deal with right now, you got what you paid for. He was still happy to help that filthy rich man with his troubles.
Soon, another surprise arrived: Schiller discovered that he could copy Spider-Man's abilities.
It turned out the missing function before had not been a system malfunction. Peter simply had not been bitten yet. Now that his Spider-powers had appeared, Schiller could naturally copy them.
Schiller tapped copy and obtained "Spider-Sense (Low Level)." Compared to the shock of gaining telepathy, this felt utterly ordinary. Schiller only felt that his five senses had improved slightly—he could see farther and hear more clearly. As for intuition, he had not felt anything yet.
He felt a little disappointed. It would have been nice if he could gain Spider-Man's physical abilities. Still, it was only a weakened version, so it probably just enhanced athletic ability a little. It was nowhere near enough to let him soar through the skies or burrow through the earth.
Spider-Man had not started out with that much strength, either. His Spider-powers had developed gradually. At present, he probably only surpassed ordinary people by a little and was not all that exaggerated.
But since Spider-Man's story had begun, Peter's uncle might soon run into trouble. After thinking it over, Schiller sent Peter a message. "How are you doing? Do you want to come to the hospital for a checkup? I'm a Doctor, and I can introduce you to a reliable trauma Doctor."
Peter replied quickly. "Wow! You're actually a Doctor? That's so cool. Which hospital do you work at? What kind of Doctor are you? An orthopedic Doctor? But I don't think I need a surgeon anymore. I'm really happy right now. I think Gwen will agree to go out with me soon..."
Schiller said, "I'd still advise you to get checked out. Animal bites are no joke. We can meet up while you're here..."
Peter was clearly hesitant. Meeting an online friend at a time like this was not exactly a good idea. He had just gained Spider-powers and was too excited to do anything else. Schiller said, "I think you can bring Miss Gwen along. I'm at Presbyterian Hospital, and I can arrange free comprehensive checkups for both of you. Afterward, you can visit a coffee shop nearby..."
Peter was somewhat tempted. For one thing, his family was not well-off, and he had never had the chance for a proper checkup. Besides, no one from New York had not heard of Presbyterian Hospital. He said, "Thank you, but I'd like to bring my uncle and aunt too. They're getting older. Of course, that might be asking too much. If it's not possible, just forget I said anything."
Schiller considered it and thought that might be even better. "That's fine. I'll arrange an appointment for you this weekend. You can also try inviting Miss Gwen and her family. I have plenty of appointment slots available."
Peter happily went to call Gwen. After all, Gwen had always helped him. Because his family was not well-off, Gwen often brought him snacks and yogurt. Peter always felt guilty because he could not do much to help Gwen in return.
But this was a good chance to make it up to her. Presbyterian Hospital was not easy to get into. Even though Gwen's father was the Director of the New York Police Department, getting an appointment for a comprehensive checkup still meant waiting in line for a long time, if an appointment could be secured at all.
Peter felt that everything had been going incredibly well for him lately. First, he had gained superpowers. Then the friend he had met on the Web turned out to be a Doctor at a major hospital, apparently even an attending Doctor. Now his uncle and aunt would not think chatting online was a waste of time.
Before you continue