[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel":3,"chapter-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-146":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","My Life as a Mental Mentor in Marvel",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2322714,4544,"Chapter 146: It Works (Part 2)","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-146",146,"\u003Cp>The old bank, rebuilt as Arkham Sanatorium, is located in the southern financial district of Lower Manhattan, not on Wall Street, but on the eastern corner of the intersection at 14th Street.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was built in the 1930s by a British investor, so its exterior resembles Gringotts from Harry Potter, with white walls and elaborate window decorations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Nick Fury said, the building is exceptionally well-maintained, both inside and out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Its interior mostly features wooden furnishings, and the lobby benefits from excellent natural light due to multiple floor-to-ceiling windows.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vintage rotary door has been preserved; upon entering, you face the main counter, with two massive staircases on either side, hung with crystal chandeliers, and beneath your feet, the mature honey-colored hardwood floors show traces of history without appearing outdated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>1200ksw.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The building as a whole is asymmetrical: the eastern side houses the main structure, so most patient rooms are on the east, while the west side contains outpatient and functional facilities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Precisely because this old bank was not on Wall Street, the land was purchased at a low price and offered ample space—seven stories total, with about sixty usable rooms on the east side and over thirty on the west; behind the second floor of the west wing lies a rooftop garden on the third floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The original builder spared no expense: the interior is opulent, luxurious, and comfortable, a structure perfectly aligned with the old-money aesthetics of its era, so no extensive renovation was needed—it immediately satisfied both the aesthetic and practical requirements of a sanatorium.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange walked through the third-floor corridor of the hospital; behind him, a nurse flipped through her notebook and said, “Mr. Eisen on the second floor wants special drinking water; Mrs. Harris on the third floor wants us to prescribe eye drops containing the Immortality Factor…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m going to a meeting with the director now. I’ll deal with these after the meeting.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange went upstairs, turned left, and arrived at the director’s office on the easternmost side of the fourth floor. As he entered, Schiller was uncorking champagne. Strange said dryly, “You’re already popping champagne? Isn’t that a bit premature? There’s still a mountain of mess to clean up.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He dumped a stack of documents onto Schiller’s desk. “You’re so busy accepting these patients that the administrative system hasn’t caught up—fifty or sixty patients have flooded in at once, and the doctors and nurses are nearly driven mad.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t rush.” Schiller slowly pulled two glasses from a cabinet, gestured to the chairs, and signaled Strange to sit. He poured himself a glass first, then Strange’s, and said, “S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are already being trained—they should arrive this afternoon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Agents? You told me this morning the emergency medical staff were agents???”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course. And they don’t cost me a cent—Nick’s actually paying me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange opened his mouth, then closed it—he wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what agents were here for. “You’re selling patient privacy to intelligence agencies???”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Stephen, look up. Where are the patients? They’re consuming the world’s most expensive supplements; even a minor scratch gets treated by the best private doctors.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller kept one hand in his pocket, raised his glass, and took a sip. “They didn’t come here to be cured.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I know that,” Strange scoffed. “They came for your made-up Immortality Factor theory, hoping it’ll grant them eternal life.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller shook his head, set down his glass, and said, “That’s only one part. Have you heard of Noah’s Ark?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“God intended to drown the world, so He built an ark with limited capacity—only a tiny fraction could survive.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When things reach this point, what happens after boarding doesn’t matter. What matters is they’re willing to pay a fortune for a ticket, to prove before all humanity that they are God’s chosen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If Noah were you, no matter how well the ship sailed, God wouldn’t let a vampire like you step aboard,” Strange said, picking up his own glass and taking a sip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How many medical staff do you need?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange thought for a moment. “At least fifty or more. The third and fourth floors are nearly unstaffed—they’re all demanding personal nurses.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I didn’t ask for the minimum. I asked for the maximum.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Maximum? A seven-story sanatorium—how many people can it hold? A thousand medical staff would probably fill it to capacity.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You won’t get a cut of the money spent on placing agents in the sanatorium—that’s my reward. But you can take five percent of the inflated staffing reimbursement.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Without five thousand, it’s impossible,” Strange said firmly. “Patients pay a fortune—each needs a twenty-person medical team on 24\u002F7 standby.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is there room to go higher?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange leaned his elbows on the desk, propped his chin on his hand, and said, “It depends on whether you can get accreditation as a medical or pharmaceutical research institute. There’s no cap on staffing for those—I could report twenty thousand and get away with it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Twenty thousand? Two researchers and a few assistants?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Intern slots,” Strange emphasized. “How many students does Columbia University have? NYU? We grant them internships. Even twenty thousand isn’t enough—if New York adds a few more universities, a hundred thousand would be reasonable.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait.” Strange suddenly realized he’d been led down a path. “Even if you’re collecting money from all sides, you don’t need to go this far.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You take money from these clients, fool them with unproven supplements, and now you’re taking money from intelligence agencies to let them spy inside? You’re…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange couldn’t even find words to describe Schiller. Calling him a vampire would make vampires weep—if any vampire had half his cruelty, they wouldn’t end up as ingredient in health supplements.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Strange was thinking, the director’s office door knocked. A man in a trench coat and hood entered. Schiller pulled another glass from the liquor cabinet and poured champagne. The man removed his hood—it was Blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I didn’t understand half of what you said on the phone,” Blade said, puzzled. “But are you sure this will work?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course, of course.” Schiller pulled out a chair for him. Blade sat, and Schiller said, “What better proof could there be than a vampire himself stepping forward to demonstrate that the Immortality Factor in his blood is effective?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But I’m not a vampire. I’ve never even been bitten—only my mother…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s the point. When you tell your story, emphasize this: after your mother was bitten, you were born a vampire. What does that prove?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller looked at Strange. Strange looked confused. “What does it prove? That vampires are cruel—they bite pregnant women?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No! It proves that some substance in vampire blood can be transmitted from mother to child. That’s a goldmine for the high-end maternal and infant market.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Next question, Eric—how old are you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hmm, I’ve forgotten, but I’m probably in my thirties?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, no, no—you’re about two hundred and thirty years old, roughly the same age as the United States. You were born with the Federation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But I don’t feel that old…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s not old. Among vampires, you’re still young. Your kind surely has elders three or four thousand years old, right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“As far as I know, only Dracula…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, Dracula. Is he the oldest? Do you have his contact?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What do you want to do?” Blade looked at Schiller. Schiller said, “If he’s willing to record a promotional video for us, we’ll pay him whatever he asks.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You want vampires to advertise medicine made from their own kind? What are you thinking? He’d never agree.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But you’re here, aren’t you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“My case is special. I hate these rats—they’re my enemies. I’d gladly see all of them wiped out by humans.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How do you know you’re the only one with a special case?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller spoke sincerely. “Eric, you must understand—your individual power isn’t enough.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I heard you’re still in contact with your kind. Ask the moderates—what are they planning to do about the radicals? If you don’t mind, I’d like to make a deal with them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A deal? What kind?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hand over their political enemies to me. I’ll give them twenty percent of the profits from turning them into medicine. That’s already generous—Nick only gets thirty percent.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade opened his mouth, paused, then said, “This is absurd… but… it’s oddly strange. I thought the moderates would launch protests if humans started promoting medicine made from vampires.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Perhaps you haven’t considered that the vampires with a voice don’t care if their own kind are turned into medicine—as long as it’s not them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And if it’s their enemies being turned into medicine? Even better.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And if the entire process requires no effort from them—only a trivial amount of intelligence and information to crush their enemies, leaving them exhausted, even annihilated—why wouldn’t they welcome it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And if, in the process, they gain not only nothing but also substantial money and resources—why wouldn’t they be tempted?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ultimately…” Schiller concluded, “the moderate vampires crave comfort. To enjoy life in human society, they need status and money. We give them exactly that—by trading their own kind’s enemies.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Once they grow accustomed to this luxury, and once the radicals are all eliminated, they’ll voluntarily select more of their own to hand over to us, in exchange for the capital needed to sustain their decadent lifestyle.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Under the rule of pure-blood ideology, their society will be gradually sacrificed from the bottom up to humanity.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Perhaps…” Schiller sighed, “in the beginning and the end, there will only ever be one vampire: the immortal Dracula.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange and Blade fell silent. After a moment, Strange said, “I don’t care about these grand schemes. I’m just a regular doctor. I want to know what’s in it for me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re already the chief physician of this sanatorium. No matter how we divide it, your share won’t be short—it’s the wealth of an entire race.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Now, just think about how comfortable it would be to count your money in a villa the size of a small country.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange swallowed. He couldn’t even imagine such a life, but he said with restraint, “I’m not that greedy. I’m a man with ideals.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blade shook his head. “Money? … Money is a terrifying thing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But it’s useful,” Schiller raised his glass. The golden liquid reflected on his lens, obscuring his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s not just useful—it’s eternally useful.”\u003C\u002Fp>",1711,"2026-06-20T16:39:12.484Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","14fe8c4c73000e167614acc76792abea1e9e8cb86c41c7143978ed72666e0619","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-147","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-145",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]