Iron Heart (Part 1)

Coulson stood at the entrance of Nick Fury's office, utterly bewildered. He watched everyone who approached the intersection turn right.

Natasha emerged from Nick's office, and Coulson stopped her. "What's going on? Why are they taking the long way around? I thought the closest path to the elevator was to turn left?"

"Because our genius psychologist with the astronomical consultation fee is in the office on the left, waiting for someone to have a psychological consultation."

"You actually invited him here? How much did he charge? Don't tell me it's 100 million dollars an hour?"

"Not quite. Nick's report says 50 million dollars an hour."

Coulson gasped. "So, if I go see him for a consultation right now, it's like earning 50 million dollars for free?"

"You could see it that way."

"There should be a lot of people lining up, right? Can I still get in line today?"

"Quite the opposite, there's no one there," Natasha said, shrugging.

After speaking, she also turned right and left. Coulson shouted, "You're going the wrong way! That's the emergency exit! The elevator is on the left!"

Natasha said without looking back, "I want to exercise! You know, for my health!"

Coulson became even more confused. Just then, Nick walked out of his office. Coulson greeted him, "Good morning, Director."

Nick nodded at him and said, "Natasha has recently stepped away from Stark Industries matters. She'll also be following up on the Hand case. Your main job is to keep an eye on that kid who likes to swing around and make sure he doesn't cause any trouble."

Coulson acknowledged with a "Yes." Then he noticed Nick also turning to go right. He stopped his superior. "Director, the elevator is over there. If you go right, it'll take at least 5 more minutes."

"I'm working out lately, planning to take the stairs."

Coulson was utterly baffled. He muttered to himself and walked to the left. Seeing that Schiller's office door was open, he knocked and went in. Schiller was engrossed in writing. Seeing someone enter, he looked up in surprise. "Someone actually came..."

Coulson was taken aback. "Aren't you open for business? I remember from the meeting this morning that psychological consultations start today."

"Of course, we're open! Come in, you're the first one!" Schiller stood up, holding his pen, and even pulled out a chair for Coulson. Schiller's enthusiasm made Coulson a bit flustered. Schiller added, "Of course, you might also be the only one."

"I don't understand. A psychological consultation for 50 million dollars an hour, and it's free, covered by the agency. Why isn't anyone coming?"

"It's probably because I charge 50 million dollars an hour, and Nick agreed to it..."

"What's wrong with that? Doesn't that just show that the Director has great confidence in your abilities?"

"Well... setting aside some of his macro understanding of funding in economics, and his flexible application of reimbursements within the institutional framework, have you ever considered that perhaps it's precisely his affirmation of me that's keeping people away."

"You mean they think your abilities are too high?"

Schiller said speechlessly, "Are you really a Level 8 agent? Then what level is Natasha? Is the maximum level 100?"

"Which agent is willing to see a highly skilled psychologist who can see all the secrets in their heart?"

"I thought it was just for simple emotional regulation, like releasing anxiety or something."

"Then you can just go smoke a cigarette outside the door."

"That won't work. 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 saw that Captain and you seem to get along well, and I wanted to ask you if you could help me get his autograph on my set of fan cards."

Schiller spread his hands. "Alright, I knew it. But who am I to complain, since I'm earning this money? If this can really relieve your anxiety, give me the cards. I promise I'll get him to sign every single one, which would be fitting for my 50 million dollar per hour consultation fee."

After Coulson left, Schiller was leisurely drinking coffee in his temporary office. But before he could slack off for the entire morning, he opened the door to get some fresh air when a sharp alarm suddenly blared. A small device on his head emitted red light and started blaring frantically.

Schiller was startled, but his Spider-Sense didn't react at all. For safety, he was ready to Flash at any moment, but then, with a sharp screech, the fire sprinkler system was activated, and the nozzle instantly sprayed a large amount of mist. If Schiller hadn't dodged quickly, he would have been drenched.

Coulson and a few other agents ran over. They looked up at the smoke detector, then at Schiller, who stood there, coffee cup in hand, staring back at them.

"No smoking here."

"I wasn't smoking."

Coulson gave him a suspicious look. "Natasha had the same expression as you when she was 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 still-blaring smoke detector and said, "Alright, it seems this damn thing is broken again."

"How on earth do you make a smoke detector produce a sound of over a hundred decibels?"

"If your house caught fire 32 times in a month, you'd understand."

The Symbiote said in Schiller's mind, "I'm feeling a bit dizzy, and a little nauseous. Let's go."

Schiller said, "It seems our psychological consultation for today ends here. Even if it's less than an hour, it'll be charged as a full hour. Don't forget to have Nick pay the bill. I'm leaving now."

Schiller left decisively because he knew this wasn't an accident. Someone didn't want him to stay there. After all, having to take 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 about someone understanding them and knowing their thoughts. But when someone truly gains mind-reading capabilities, everyone shies away from them.

Of course, in S.H.I.E.L.D., it's more likely due to Nick Fury's unconventional talent management system.

Back at the clinic, Schiller, who hadn't slept for dozens of hours, intended to take a short nap. The Symbiote played some very hypnotic music for him, and he quickly fell asleep. However, before he could enter deep sleep, he was woken up by a phone call.

"What? ... Then what good am I to you? Go find Pepper."

"She's very busy? Am I not busy? Fine, I'm not busy, but you can forget about me going back to the lab. I really don't want to screw in light bulbs anymore."

"Yes, yes, yes, I know it's your epoch-making 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? Fine, I know... I know you're meticulous, but what can I do about it? I can't magically conjure the missing parts for you, no, not even with magic..."

"...It's hard for me to say," Schiller paced in the clinic's living room. "Perhaps you should ask for Jarvis's speculation. He's more than just a computer now."

"Jarvis is being hesitant? Then don't you already know the answer? Or is it that you've actually thought of a suspect but are unwilling to admit it..."

"No, my mind-reading can't be used for things like this, don't be ridiculous... I can tell you, there's an 80% chance the person you're thinking of is..."

After the call ended, Schiller grabbed Pikachu, rubbed his cheeks, and said, "A sturdy steel fortress is always breached from the inside. This is truly hard to say."

"What trouble did that stiffly dressed guy run into?" Pikachu asked.

"It seems his armor lost some parts. 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 create trouble for yourselves," Pikachu concluded. "That kid Parker, he actually worried about killing the hostages in the game. It's just a game. Even if the hostages die, as long as the kidnappers are wiped out, isn't that still a win for us?"

"So you charged in and killed the hostages first?"

"Otherwise, that kid is always dawdling. What can I do? You guys get caught up in too many meaningless things, always immersing yourselves too deeply, having unnecessary worries about things that haven't happened, yet always escaping from what has already occurred."

"I never thought that you, a mouse, could say something so profound."

"Of course, I'm Detective Pikachu."

In Stark Tower, all the lights in Stark's laboratory were extinguished, leaving only the faint blinking lights of the instruments, like scattered stars.

Stark leaned against the workbench, sitting on the floor. His phone was beside him, displaying a symbol indicating Jarvis was also present.

"I am attempting to comfort you, sir."

"And so you turned off all the lights?" Stark's voice was a bit hoarse, his excessive lack of sleep leaving him exhausted.

"This might help you relax a bit. Dim lighting aids in relaxing the brain," Jarvis said.

Stark closed his eyes, shifting into a more relaxed posture, leaning against the workbench. He curled one leg up, rested his arm on it, and looked up, speaking as if in a dream: "...Perhaps this is retribution."

"Stark Industries' weapons have caused countless people to become displaced. Therefore, those I once trusted will inevitably leave me one by one..."

"We cannot yet confirm that Mr. Obadiah is the culprit," Jarvis said. "According to the analysis, there is only about a 96% probability."

"You can be more direct," Stark said.

"My apologies, I meant there is a 4% chance it is not him."

"Who else could it be?"

"Mr. Schiller accounts for 2%, Mr. Parker for 1.2%, and yourself for 0.8%."

"Schiller? You expect someone who can't even distinguish between numbered armor components from 1 to 10 to steal the most important core? And Peter, that kid is a bit foolish, but he wouldn't steal. He's such a fool that he'd be shocked for half a day if he saw me smoking."

"I am attempting to comfort you," Jarvis said.

Finally, Stark felt all the sounds in the world gradually dim. In a half-awake, half-dreaming state, he remembered Howard's face.

At that time, Uncle Obadiah and his father stood together. They were both still very young.

Happy belated Lantern Festival!!!

Someone visited yesterday, so I couldn't update! I managed to write this chapter in my spare time today...

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