Chapter 1397: The Old Days Return (13)

In the Kamar-Taj meditation room, the serious atmosphere of the conversation was finally broken. Strange closed the black notebook, placed it back between the two, and then tapped the cover with his finger and asked, "Who do you think is explaining all this to us?"

"I know what you want to ask," Stark blocked his mouth with a wine glass, leaned back in his chair, and said, "All the chaos that happened before—the intruders at the Asgard Technology Expo, the sudden membership gifts, the Mandarin and his ten rings, the messy kids, and more..."

"Everything happened without warning before, and then suddenly erupted, exceeding everyone's expectations. The motivation, method, and harvest of each thing were as messy as a ball of yarn, so of course you would think of a name—Schiller."

Strange pursed his lips and didn't respond, but he was actually indicating that he didn't need to respond; this was an obvious matter.

In the entire universe, where chaos occurred and where it didn't, where things were missing and where they were added, who killed whom and who didn't, who cooperated with whom and who didn't, whose family held a wedding and whose held a funeral, where gongs were beaten and where drums were struck—to get the answer to all these questions, one only needed to do one thing: find Schiller.

This was not only the consensus of the Light Alliance, but it was also gradually developing into the consensus of all Earth's superheroes. Even Matt had chosen to find Schiller at the clinic at the first opportunity. Who else could one expect not to do so?

Seeing the determined expression on Strange's face, Stark revealed a very complex expression. Strange gazed at Stark's face and narrowed his eyes. Before he could ask, Stark spoke voluntarily.

"I know you all suspect Schiller, but he has an alibi."

"Who?"

"Me."

Accompanied by Stark's narration, time returned to about two weeks ago. Stark, who was staring at the instruments in the lab, suddenly felt a movement in his mind. Another soul's voice appeared in his brain, but he was already very familiar with it.

"Knull has disappeared."

That was Batman's voice. Stark's wrist holding the pen paused slightly. He turned the pen in his hand and said, "Not important. Anyway, our research on him is basically complete, and he's of no use anymore."

After saying this, Stark stood up and pulled down the blinds by the window. After being away from Jarvis for so long, he finally had a bit of self-care ability, at least figuring out how to pull down the blinds and close the slats.

"Who do you think did it?"

"Who else could have done it?"

Batman seemed somewhat silent, but after a while, he said, "The Schiller you know is different from the one I know."

"But essentially, they are the same." Stark didn't hesitate at all. He threw the pen back into the pen holder—it missed, but he didn't care—walked to the cabinet with small instruments, organized his shirt with the help of the glass door's reflection, then walked to the door, picked up his coat, and put it on.

"You plan to just go find him like this?"

"Otherwise?"

Batman was silent again, seemingly not knowing how to evaluate Stark's initiative. But as Stark walked out the door, Batman said, "You're visiting him without a gift?"

"I'm just going to find him to ask about his plan. What gift?" Stark's tone was full of confusion.

"Do you think if you rush over directly, he will tell you the truth?"

"If I don't rush over directly, he won't tell me the truth either."

Batman was silent again. Stark raised his hand as he walked out and said, "Forget it, there aren't that many twists and turns. I spend at least 200 million USD on my mental health management every year. Pepper and Obadiah can testify. Isn't that better than politely handing over a bottle of red wine?"

Batman didn't speak, but he might have felt that his attitude was not approving. Stark said while boarding the flying shuttle, "From your attitude, I can feel that the Schiller you encountered should be very different from the one I know. He probably cares a lot about etiquette."

"To the Schiller I know, if I went to find him now carrying a bottle of red wine that is expensive as hell to anyone but me, he would definitely add a heavy entry to my mental health management budget to treat my social maladjustment symptoms caused by anxiety."

"Suit yourself." Batman could only say this.

The flying shuttle soon stopped at Arkham Asylum, but the receptionist told Stark that Schiller wasn't there. Stark said triumphantly, "See? I knew it. He must be studying Knull right now. Schiller will disappear for a few days, lie that he's going on vacation, and then a series of complex plans that make people's heads ache will be placed in front of us. I know him too well."

"Do you plan to stop him?"

"Of course not. Most of his plans are beneficial, and he can always organize many complex matters into one thread after another, making them converge toward the same goal, and then break them down into many different small objectives to complete them in one go."

"Honestly, this looks like a miracle to me, but whether to me, humanity, or the Nine Realms, it's not a bad thing, and can be said to be of great benefit."

"But indeed, to some extent, I must stop him, because in the process of completing this plan, he is consuming himself without restraint. Before, I couldn't understand his series of complex plans, couldn't find the right time to intervene, and was afraid of messing everything up if I interfered. Now it's very different."

Batman sent a positive thought into Stark's brain. He said in a flat, declarative tone, "You grab one thread, and I can crack everything."

"Thanks, man. If you weren't a rich guy like me, I'd definitely be willing to pay a high price to hire you as my advisor," Stark whistled frivolously.

"Better save it to pay for your mental health management fees."

Stark didn't care about Batman's unique cold humor at all.

The situation between the two of them was very strange. They should have been the kind of people the other disliked most. To Batman, Stark was too emotional, excitable, always liked to add too many inspirations to rigorous calculations and inferences, lowered work efficiency without scruples, couldn't take care of his daily life, had a chaotic private life, and smoked, drank, and clubbed—a total playboy.

To Stark, Batman was like an old fuddy-duddy, life had to be by the book, without any passion, too suspicious, pursued trivial details, believed that sparks of inspiration would only delay the efficiency of event completion, pursued absolute rationality, and always liked to tell cold jokes.

【The source-changing app that has been running stably for many years, comparable to the old version of the book-chasing artifact, is used by all old bookworms.】

It was very difficult for two such people to get along, but magically, during the time they shared a body, neither of them restrained those shortcomings, and even actively let them go, letting them appear prominently.

Stark hadn't been drunk for a long time; that was just a manifestation of his anxiety attacks and escapism before. But recently, he liked to drink a little after experiments, letting alcohol numb his brain, and to some extent, numb Batman's brain, or throw himself into the deafening dance floor and shake his body to his heart's content.

Batman's obsessive-compulsive disorder was getting more and more serious. Every pen and every piece of paper was placed in its designated position. On every page of the calendar, different symbols pointed to different codes, which then pointed to different actions. He remembered every face he had seen, remembered every minute detail of everyone's appearance and behavior, and stored them in categories. All details of life were in perfect order, day after day.

They experienced two completely different lives in one person's time: debauchery and rigidity, relaxation and rigor, leisure and tension.

Iron Man and Batman were not completely unaffected by social eyes. In the Justice League, Batman couldn't let himself get drunk because he was everyone's hope. In the Avengers, Iron Man couldn't appear too nervous because that would make everyone nervous.

When they used their own bodies, things they couldn't do because of maintaining image and identity, or things they couldn't think of doing because of personality, they could do to their heart's content when they shared a body.

Tense bodies would relax, casual bodies would be rigorous, filling the gaps in their social identity and spiritual needs, making their mental state more stable and their behavior more sound.

To some extent, Batman and Iron Man understood why Schiller cut himself into so many pieces. When you cut apart all the one-sided traits of personality and let them dominate life in different time periods with their own strengths, you can better adapt to society externally and heal yourself internally.

Now Batman and Iron Man were exploring, assuming they were two personalities of one person, how to allocate their strengths to better adapt to life. When inspiration was needed, Stark came, and when inference was needed, Batman came, as well as more subtle life-level things.

When they shared a body, the other's thinking and soul fluctuations could be well felt. Thus, after they separated, they could learn from the other's methods of handling problems during that time period, relaxing when they should relax and being tense when they should be tense.

Batman and Iron Man possessed almost equal wisdom, so they didn't have to worry about the brain rusting when the other took over the body, or being trapped by intelligence and unable to take over the previous person's work well. Their thinking flowed smoothly and rapidly, naturally.

There was no such wonderful opportunity in this world to let another you, who had equal wisdom and understanding ability and complementary personality strengths and weaknesses, teach you in your mind how to make up for shortcomings and carry forward strengths. They both understood this, so they cherished this time exceptionally.

"Are you really not planning to prepare a gift?"

After Stark boarded the flying shuttle again, Batman brought up the old topic. He rarely explained a part of his thoughts: "If it weren't for Schiller, I wouldn't have come here, and we wouldn't have cooperated."

"You want to express gratitude to him with a gift? That's just old-fashioned," Stark shook his head, spread his hands, and said, "The first time I see him, I'll give him a big hug. Isn't that enough?"

Batman fell into deep thought. He felt it was very absurd. Physical contact was not gratitude but torture to him. The thoughts of "what exactly is on the other person" and "what will be the consequences of hugging him" would continue to torment him for about a week.

"Fine, let me give you a demonstration." Stark loosened his shoulders nonchalantly, watching the flying shuttle stop steadily at the entrance of the S. H. I. E. L. D. Agent Training Academy. The receptionist just told them that Schiller was teaching here.

Stark raised his hand to look at his watch and found that they had arrived just in time. Schiller should have just finished a class, so he tightened his coat, took off his sunglasses, and walked inside with smooth and coherent long strides.

Pushing open the classroom door, walking down the stairs with a brisk pace, ignoring the flow of students walking in the opposite direction, Stark shouted at Schiller, walked up, hugged him forcefully, and then said.

"I just went to the asylum to find you, you weren't there, they said you were teaching here. How was the class?"

"Not bad, why?"

"Nothing, thank you."

"Oh, you're welcome. Going to the cafeteria?"

"Let's go."

Batman felt that there was still a long way to go before his behavior was sound. ===== CHAPTER 1398 =====