Diagnosed with Mental Illness in the Marvel World

Metropolis.

The sunlight was fairly bright.

Inside a psychologist's office.

A light breeze gently stirred the curtains, and dappled light swayed across them. The boy sat on a rather uncomfortable sofa and looked up at the psychologist seated before him.

"I don't have a mental illness."

Ian Kent spoke softly.

"Most people who come to see me believe they aren't ill." The sharply dressed psychologist sat with the poise and elegance of a gentleman. An exquisite notebook and a fountain pen rested before him.

"It was only because my parents often noticed that I woke up startled in the middle of the night, so they thought I needed some psychological counseling." Ian shifted his butt on the sofa.

He seemed to be searching for the most comfortable sitting position.

"What did you dream about?" The psychologist asked at just the right moment and picked up the fountain pen before him. His magnetic voice carried a power that could draw out people's desire to confide in him.

But Ian had no such need.

"Teenage boys always have some unrealistic fantasies they're too embarrassed to talk about, don't they?" After pondering for a moment, Ian chose to give a vague answer.

The psychologist nodded without changing his expression.

"I understand that you don't trust me very much yet. We can discuss that question later." As he spoke, he scribbled in his notebook.

From where Ian sat, he could not clearly see what the psychologist was writing.

"Perhaps you could just prescribe me some medicine."

Ian took the initiative to make the suggestion. Compared to treatment through conversation, he would rather coolly down some hardcore meds. There were things in his heart that he did not want others prying into.

For example, he was a transmigrator. And in this life, his father was Superman, whose ears were more sensitive than sonar equipment... Not to mention that world that appeared in his dreams every so often.

Everything there seemed frozen. Snow filled the sky, carried by piercing winds, while the outlines of shattered buildings flickered in and out of the haze. Such an environment would make anyone walking through it feel increasingly oppressed.

Perhaps it was a nightmare.

Or perhaps it was something else.

After all, he now lived in a world where anything was possible. Ian could not be certain what his dreams meant. He only knew that whenever he heard the tolling of a bell, he would wake up on the dot.

Just as Ian sank into his memories, the psychologist had already stopped writing. "In my career, I haven't met many patients who actively ask for medication."

He seemed somewhat surprised.

"Although I firmly believe I don't have a mental illness, I do occasionally experience symptoms of anxiety..." After pausing, Ian added somewhat evasively, "Maybe it has something to do with my heavy academic workload. I think taking some medication for that might help calm me down."

The boy's voice was sincere and frank.

The psychologist instinctively glanced at the top of Ian's head but found no sign of anything pointed there. "As I understand it, your grades are exceptionally outstanding."

He was clearly questioning the source of Ian's anxiety.

"Precisely because of that, the pressure I bear must be far greater than other people's if I want to remain ahead of my peers." Ian gave a seemingly sincere but utterly insincere answer.

"Mm."

The psychologist nodded first, his deep gaze meeting Ian's for a long while.

"I don't think you're telling the truth."

He stated his opinion very directly and wrote in his notebook again. Ian merely watched the psychologist's movements in silence.

The source of his anxiety truly was not his studies.

In fact, as an unlucky guy who had scored over seven hundred on the college entrance exam before transmigrating, only to be forced into starting over before he could even attend university, the academic workload at the public schools here was not difficult for him at all.

What truly made Ian anxious was the cheat ability he had awakened only recently—the so-called transmigrator's benefit that most people talked about.

When the sound of a "ding" rang out in his mind, he knew he was no longer the ordinary person he had once been. Yet the awakening of the system did not make him happy for long.

This system was different from the check-in systems, attendance systems, and even sugar-daddy systems Ian had dreamed of. It was more like the character panel of an unfinished game.

[Name: Ian Kent]

[Ordinary Profession: Student lv7 [12/640]]

[Extraordinary Profession: None]

[World Recognition: Ordinary NPC]

[Strength: 0.7]

[Constitution: 1.5]

[Intelligence: 2.3]

[Spirit: 2.5]

[Talent Skills: None]

[Universal Skills: Learning [Elite]]

[Universal Skill Points: 7]

...

There were no quests, shops, or all sorts of flashy functions. There was only a panel and a function that could quantify and transform Ian's abilities and condition into data.

The [Learning] skill might have been a legacy from his previous life. It had naturally manifested at [Elite] quality, allowing Ian to learn new knowledge faster than most people his age.

However, since Ian had never entered society in either his previous life or this one, and the knowledge in books had not appeared in the form of skills, his skill section looked rather empty.

What truly made Ian anxious was the [World Recognition] displayed on the system panel. The glaring words "Ordinary NPC" stabbed at him until he wished his corneas would fall out.

His liver, gallbladder, and kidneys also felt as though they were in imminent danger.

Wasn't this clearly the template for someone sacrificed to the heavens to awaken their family's potential and talents? Ian watched movies in his daily life too, so naturally he had his suspicions.

After all, American TV dramas loved this sort of thing.

And wasn't he now living in a Marvel world? Ever since awakening this system, Ian had also realized that he was not the biological child of his parents in this life. What better sacrifice was there than an adopted son to ignite Superman's fighting spirit and awaken the bloodline potential of his two older brothers?

How could he stay alive!

That was the greatest anxiety of Ian, who had already died once. Although he had been working hard to raise the level of his [Student] profession, aside from minor increases to his intelligence and Spirit attributes, he had only gained seven universal skill points. At most, those could be used to learn and upgrade skills like [Cooking] or [Dancing].

Studying might not change one's destiny.

For Ian, that had become a very literal reality.

He was even somewhat despairing over it, which was why he had proactively suggested taking medication. Yet Ian had no way to tell the psychologist before him the true reason for that anxiety.

The reason was not merely because it was an unspeakable secret.

It was also because the name of the psychologist his parents had found for him did not sound like the sort of name a good person should have—Ian's gaze drifted to the nameplate on the doctor's desk.

[Hannibal Lecter]

Yes.

The moment he entered.

Ian had noticed how extraordinary this psychologist was.

Damn this prejudice.

He only hoped he really was paranoid.