Chapter 1056: Shocking Ordinary Person (Part 33)

Bob appeared somewhat unconvinced. He held his breath and said, "As far as I know, many unemployed public transportation practitioners are protesting and demonstrating, and there are also quite a few people manufacturing explosions..."

"I believe that as long as a few more of those damn flight shuttles fall down, people will definitely know that buses are the safest!"

"Tony Stark, that damn playboy, earned the money that originally belonged to me. I must get it back!"

Eddie shook his head and said, "What we need to discuss now is not what method you can use to make Stark pay a price, but what method you can use to save yourself. This doesn't include you being so excited while holding a bomb. Aren't you afraid of accidentally pressing the switch?"

Bob felt like he had been splashed with a bucket of ice water. He suddenly felt somewhat terrified, threw away the leather bag in his arms, and said somewhat trembling, "I... I'm not... My God, how could I build a bomb? I..."

Bob sniffed and said, "My father used to be an engineer. I saw him tinkering with these, so I know how. But that was a long time ago. I don't even know how I remembered..."

"Passion killing." Schiller suddenly spoke. "Emotional stimulation, excited state, elevated blood pressure, faster breathing frequency, will lead to blood rushing to the brain, prompting people to recall forgotten knowledge. It belongs to a typical type of passion killing among ordinary people where ability and knowledge suddenly improve..."

And when Eddie and Bob looked over at the same time, Schiller lowered his head again, as if he were asleep. After a while, he started with a start and said, "What's wrong?"

Bob was startled by him. Eddie hurriedly soothed, "Don't mind him, my friend's mental state isn't very good. I was originally taking him out to relax... Oh, right, you said your daughter suffers from epilepsy. I happen to be going to my friend's psychological clinic to get something. Maybe there will be medicine there."

Bob immediately widened his eyes and said, "Psychological clinic? Your friend is a psychologist?? Then why is he still..."

"A doctor cannot treat himself." Eddie shrugged his shoulders, took the lead in leading Bob and Schiller toward the psychological clinic. Because the distance from here to Schiller's clinic wasn't actually far, only needing to cross two blocks, the two didn't choose to drive, but walked there. But soon, Eddie regretted it, because Schiller fell ill again on the way.

He started trembling all over again, muttering nonsense, and even completely unable to control his upper body, only able to lean against the wall, constantly breathing deeply.

Eddie, who possessed a symbiote, could also treat the vast majority of external injuries, but for this kind of mental condition-induced limb twitching and adverse reactions similar to withdrawal reactions, he didn't have any very good methods, only able to wait on the side, hoping Schiller would recover on his own.

Schiller was squatting by the wall somewhat unable to control himself. Eddie looked at his appearance and also felt somewhat sad. Suddenly, as if he remembered something, he reached out to touch the pocket of his clothes, then cursed in a low voice, "Damn it, I forgot to bring cigarettes. Venom, why didn't you remind me?"

"Who was the one who said they wanted to quit smoking before?" Venom said somewhat unpleasantly.

Eddie stood in place and sighed, then began to look around, wanting to see if there was a shop nearby.

But just at this moment, a man holding a leather bag and wearing a black hooded jacket suddenly walked out of the corner where Schiller was squatting.

That man also seemed not to have expected to run into such two people at the corner. He immediately stepped back somewhat vigilantly, covering the bag in his arms. Sensing his movement, Eddie also became vigilant.

But at this time, Schiller began to cough constantly, then evolved into retching while kneeling on the ground, as if the muscles in his respiratory tract had suddenly twitched, making him unable to control himself, and then began to twitch his limbs, followed by maintaining one action, completely motionless, just like he had stiffened there.

The man holding the package froze for a moment, then immediately said, "Epilepsy, neurological epilepsy!"

Eddie rushed up wanting to support Schiller, but that man dropped the package and then blocked Eddie, saying, "You can't touch him when he has tonic manifestations, otherwise it's easy to cause joint torsion. Stay away from him..."

And at this time, Eddie turned his head, but saw that the leather bag dropped on the ground by the stranger had its zipper torn open a gap.

Looking in from the gap, what was packed in the leather bag was not any office supplies, but a large bundle of explosives. ===== CHAPTER 1057 =====

Eddie also took Shiler and parted ways with Bob at the clinic entrance. Bob was in a hurry to get home to deliver medicine to his daughter, so Eddie took out one of his business cards, which he had written out just last night. He said, "This has my phone number and address on it. If you need help, call this number. Of course, if you're willing to chat with a former gold-medal reporter like me about your story, I'd be very happy to listen..."

Bob felt very touched, so he tucked the business card into his pocket, hugged Eddie, and turned to leave.

But unexpectedly, just as Eddie and Shiler returned to Eddie's place, his phone rang. Bob's somewhat anxious voice came from the other end. He said, "Uh, well, Mr. Brock, I'm sorry to bother you so soon, but a colleague of mine committed suicide. I saved him, but he's not doing very well right now, and I don't know how to comfort him. Could you come over? Or does your doctor friend know what to do?"

Eddie looked back at Shiler while holding the phone, then glanced at his watch. After spending more than a day together, he had figured out the time periods when Shiler returned to normal; it was basically during mealtimes, when he could maintain about an hour or so of clarity.

However, Eddie's own daily routine wasn't exactly healthy; all his mealtimes were pushed back by about two hours. For example, breakfast was at 9:30, lunch was after 2:00 PM, and then there was a late-night snack.

Eddie guessed that these time slots likely corresponded to the therapy sessions Shiler had as a child—that is, starting class after 9:00 AM, finishing a nap after 2:00 PM, and getting up for class until bedtime at night.

This routine might have been carved into Shiler's subconscious. Even when he was having an episode, he would appear more lucid during the times when his "classes"—that is, his interactions with teachers or doctors—took place.

Eddie calculated the time and felt that if they rushed over now, they should just happen to catch Shiler during his morning period of clarity. So, he put down his luggage, took Shiler, and headed toward the street Bob had mentioned.

Upon arriving there, what surprised Eddie was that the house Bob rented was even closer to Hell's Kitchen than his own.

It was a narrow, dim alleyway with a row of low, squat bungalows.

Eddie walked in and knocked on the door at the very end. As soon as he stepped inside, he looked at Bob and said, "Old buddy, you're really bold! You actually dare to rent a place here. What gave you such courage?"

Bob sighed and said, "I was tricked... but fortunately, my colleague Brode is a native here, and he's helped me a lot, it's just that..."

Bob shook his head, pointed inside, and said, "My daughter lives in the room in the back. When I just got back, I heard her crying. I asked her why she was crying, and she said she smelled a strange odor. I walked into this room and saw that Brode was trying to commit suicide by charcoal burning."

"It's a good thing I came in quickly and opened the doors and windows to ventilate. By that time, he was already a bit unconscious, but he woke up soon after."

Bob pursed his lips and said, "But after waking up, his mood was very bad, and he even wanted to slit his wrists. I heard that your friend is a psychiatrist. Can you find a way to counsel him? He still has a son in college."

Eddie poked his head in to look. In the somewhat cramped bungalow room, a bearded man was slumped in the corner. His body was quite sturdy, but his spirit was very listless, and he was still clutching a wine bottle in his hand.

Faced with this situation, Eddie, a layman who hadn't even started self-study, was completely at a loss.

He did know that one should first ask for the cause, then find the root of the illness, and then counsel step by step. But tutorials seen on the internet were one thing, and actual operation was another.

When asking for the cause, how could he ensure he wouldn't irritate the patient? When looking for the root of the illness, how could he ensure he found the key? And if he happened to find the wrong one, wouldn't all the subsequent deductions be wrong?

Eddie turned his head to look at Shiler, who was standing behind him. Unexpectedly, Shiler didn't walk forward directly but began to shrink back.

Shiler walked straight out of the bungalow's door, turned around as if wanting to leave, but as if he didn't recognize the way, he stopped at the corner, leaned against the wall, and squatted down.

Eddie sighed. He thought he had never encountered such an absurd thing in his life. To have a psychiatrist treat an illness, he had to treat the psychiatrist first. This life was truly many times more stimulating than when he was an editor-in-chief.

Eddie had no choice but to squat down next to Shiler again. He was a very typical liberal arts student, so he was more sensitive to certain issues than those science students who were accustomed to using logical thinking to analyze cause-and-effect relationships.

"Judging by your level of importance, if you've been gone for so long and Stark and the others haven't come to find you, it means there might be some conflict between you. You don't want to deal with them, and they don't want to deal with you."

"And from your current mental state, it's clear that you must value your friends highly. It could be that the content of some argument you had triggered you, or perhaps the emotional pressure of the cold war caused you to collapse."

"But I don't understand, why would this negate your identity as a doctor?" Eddie turned his head, frowning, and looked at Shiler, saying, "I'm not trying to use moral blackmail, but under the right conditions, shouldn't a doctor treat every patient as equally as possible?"

"You go to treat S. H. I. E. L. D. agents, you go to treat superheroes, you go to treat super-rich people; why can't you treat ordinary people?"

Shiler gradually became lucid. He strained to lift his eyelids and then said, "I cannot treat ordinary people. I don't like them. I don't like ordinary people..."

"Why don't you like ordinary people? Because they aren't powerful enough? Because they aren't rich enough?" Eddie asked, but soon he answered his own question: "Doctor, I feel that you aren't that kind of person. You clearly care about them, but you seem unwilling to get close to them..."

Shiler lowered his head and said somewhat haltingly, "Among superheroes, I am a normal person, but among ordinary people, I am a lunatic..."

"In the superhero group, I play the role of a doctor." Shiler swallowed and said, "But among ordinary people, I am a patient."

Shiler took another deep breath and turned to look at Eddie. Eddie saw a kind of pain in his eyes that he couldn't understand, and then he heard Shiler say:

"For my entire life, I have been learning how to disguise myself as an ordinary person while being a patient."

"Among superheroes, if I don't act well, no one will notice, because they aren't ordinary people either. They won't care about my sometimes abnormal behavior, or out of sufficient kindness, they will tolerate those abnormalities."

"But if I am among ordinary people, they will think I am a patient because of some of my abnormal behavior." Shiler closed his eyes in pain and then said, "Through their feedback, I will be constantly reinforced in the fact that I haven't acted well enough and have never been cured..."

【A novel app that has been running stably for many years, the source-changing app that everyone uses, including the old version, huanyuanapp.】

"This means that my efforts over many years have been in vain." Shiler closed his eyes, reached out with his constantly trembling hand, and pressed it against the side of his neck.

Then, he said in the same trembling tone:

"What's even more terrifying is that this will prove that the efforts of those doctors and nurses who once gave their all, at the cost of injury and bloodshed, trying to cure me, were also all in vain."