Chapter 2238

Seeing Natasha wandered in the garden.

She wasn't really that interested in the garden of the Rodriguez Manor; she just wanted to stall Pamela.

In her view, among the fish that might be hooked by Schiller, Pamela was the most dangerous one because she was the youngest and obviously abnormally excited.

As everyone knows, flirting and ambiguity are games for adults. Law and morality restrict immature teenagers from doing this, mainly because once they act on impulse, the development of things will definitely be much more tragic than for adults.

Teenagers with hot heads won't care about any laws, morality, or even human restrictions. They do whatever they want, vent whenever they feel like it, and are arguably the most unstable, oversized time bombs.

So although Seeing Natasha was very worried about Strange, Loki, and herself, these few were adults after all. Even if something happened, it would just be like her last time with Schiller—at worst, the two of them would perish together.

But if Pamela really took action, things wouldn't be that simple. This beautiful girl with a hot head obviously possessed powerful strength. If Schiller wanted to put her on the chopping block, the commotion the two of them made could level the entire street or even the entire city.

So Seeing Natasha keenly realized that her main task at the moment was to single-handedly defend against Pamela.

Her idea was good, and the measures taken were extremely effective, because Pamela simply couldn't refuse such a beauty. With the Black Widow's charm fully unleashed, only one thought remained in Pamela's mind—to check the location of the nearest bed.

Unfortunately, one doesn't fear an opponent like a god, but rather a teammate like a pig. Just as Seeing Natasha was chatting with Pamela about her college life, she heard Nick's voice in her earpiece.

"Thor called me again. He demands that his brother reply to him immediately. You hurry up and find Loki; if he's late, it's also very impolite."

Seeing Natasha had no way to tell Nick that she had only seen Loki's blood, because if Nick sent someone to find Loki, it would very likely provoke Schiller. And if she got distracted to investigate, there would be no one to manage Pamela.

So she could only press the miniature device in her palm to reply to Nick, telling him to be patient. But less than two minutes later, Seeing Natasha saw Coulson poking his head around the porch.

Seeing Natasha really wanted to go and shake Nick's head to see how many tons of water were inside, but once she remembered that in this universe, almost no one besides her could realize Schiller's danger, she knew she couldn't waste even a second cursing Nick.

Seeing Natasha gave Pamela a smile and said somewhat helplessly, "My colleague is in charge of the security work for this banquet. There might be some problems on his end, so I need to leave for a little while. It won't take more than a minute. If you don't mind..."

"Go ahead, I'll wait for you here. Beautiful people always have privileges," Pamela said, imitating Schiller.

Seeing Natasha turned around with a stable expression on the surface, not forgetting to look back and smile at Pamela, but in reality, she had already cursed her mother a hundred times inside.

"Don't come to the back garden!" Seeing Natasha said to Coulson through gritted teeth.

"What's wrong with that place? Who is that young girl? Why does she look a bit familiar?"

"She is Pamela Isley. Who she is doesn't matter. My plan is at a critical stage. Don't ask what the plan is. Find a way to send Nick away. By the way, help me watch and don't let anyone come to the garden."

Coulson was confused, but Seeing Natasha had always been mysterious, so he didn't say anything. He shook his head as he watched Seeing Natasha's back disappear into the garden, and went to do what he had to do.

Just as Seeing Natasha returned to Pamela, she found Pamela looking up at the manor's main building. She followed Pamela's gaze and discovered that on the balcony of Schiller's bedroom, Schiller was actually talking to Stark.

Looking closer, Seeing Natasha discovered that this Stark didn't seem to be the one she knew. Of course, it wouldn't be. Even though they had already arrived at the manor, Stark had specifically asked Cobblepot for a lounge before the banquet officially started to conveniently take care of Pepper personally. He probably wouldn't appear in front of everyone.

This Stark was wearing a suit of a more flamboyant color, his hands resting on the balcony, seemingly speaking to Schiller in an intense tone.

Seeing Natasha discovered that a vine had already climbed to the underside of the balcony, obviously Pamela eavesdropping. She didn't want to miss this opportunity either. Adjusting the shoulder strap of her dress, she used the movement to let an invisible nano-eavesdropping drone fly to the side of the balcony at high speed and stick to the wall.

Stark stood in front, his arms spread out on the balcony, almost blocking the entire balcony. Schiller stood behind him like a lonely shadow, his whole person submerged in the shadows of the room.

"Multiple personalities? Dissociative identity disorder? How do you expect me to believe all this absurdity? Is mental illness an excuse you use to avoid the relationship between you and me?"

"I'm afraid my professionalism doesn't allow me to do that." Schiller's voice was low and slow, sounding faint when transmitted through the electronic equipment, as if it were ringing from a very distant place.

"That's the answer you've always given." Stark nodded and said, "Avoiding the topic, never answering any questions directly."

"I'm very sorry," Schiller said, "but I'm still very glad you were invited to attend this banquet."

Stark pursed his lips tightly. He finally turned back, staring at Schiller's eyes, and said, "Since you are very confident in your professionalism, why don't you analyze me?"

"It is precisely because I feel sorry for you that I will not do so." Schiller shook his head gently and lowered his eyelids. The darkness in the room made the shadows under his eyelashes thicker, and the windows of his soul were completely closed, unable to leak even a trace of emotion.

"If I used psychoanalysis as a weapon, then no one could resist it. On the contrary, you would open your hearts to seek a truth from me, but it would be too late when the knife was stabbed in."

"Do you think I'm the kind of person who avoids reality?" Stark's emotions were obviously very agitated, and one could even see a trace of hysteria through the tremor in his tail tone.

"It's not me who avoids the problem, but you." Schiller placed a hand on the door frame and looked at Stark, saying, "Obviously, the biggest problem you are facing now is not the relationship between us, but you are using this point to blur other problems. Do you really want to keep entangling?"

"It's just that other problems simply won't give me a chance to solve them." Stark snorted coldly and turned away contemptuously. "They huddle together, claiming to be righteous. I didn't expect the answer you gave to be so vulgar. 'Communication is the only way to solve problems,' huh?"

"I've said it before, you wouldn't want to be stabbed again." Schiller stepped forward, placed a hand on Stark's back, but didn't look at him, instead gazing at the vines in front of the window. "Your blood has almost run dry."

Stark seemed to have completely collapsed because of this, like a crumbling fortress, failing from the inside, gradually collapsing to the outer edge, condensing, shrinking, and curling up.

"All of this is because of you." Stark gripped the balcony railing tightly, gritting his teeth and glaring at Schiller.

Schiller didn't say anything like "you'll always appear." He just said, "It is precisely because of this that you received an invitation."

Schiller walked behind Stark, but at this moment, Stark no longer had the strength to confidently entrust his back to anyone. He turned around somewhat hurriedly, leaned his body backward, his waist pressed tightly against the railing, staring at Schiller's face.

The distance between them wasn't far, only about half a step away. Stark thought he had made the most wrong decision of his life, delivering himself to the door when he was at his weakest, only to find that what greeted him wasn't some close friend or relative who could understand and help him, but a beast far more terrifying than the trouble in his original universe.

"Tell me first what you encountered."

Just as Stark wanted to speak, Schiller added, "Of course, this is not a necessary process for psychoanalysis, but I think you might need to vent. I am willing to listen."

Stark turned his head away.

"I guess you can imagine, huh? That group of superheroes united to deal with me. After all the disasters ended, this was a matter of course."

"The new city where New York and Gotham merged was beaten into ruins. After that, the mages discovered that some of the building fragments emitted unusual power. It was an extremely dark and elusive power."

"S. H. I. E. L. D. also obtained the same fragments. What's more fatal is that the Osborn Group also got samples. This isn't difficult, is it? The place is full of experimental materials."

"And that idiot Osborn claimed that all of this was my conspiracy. Both S. H. I. E. L. D. and the FBI supported his view, and Congress also needed someone to be responsible for all the disasters."

Stark took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and his eyelids kept trembling. He didn't seem to want to recall, and he said.

"Three days after the disaster ended, the world focused on the new city. Public opinion was boiling. I was arrested on the morning of the fourth day, accused of 162 charges including human extinction, and I didn't resist."

New City, FBI Headquarters Special Criminal Detention Cell, 10:00 AM.

"Tell me, how is she! Tell me!!!"

Stark roared at the outside while gripping the railing. At this time, his face was pale, his hair was messy, and his clothes were full of scratches and dust. Obviously, he hadn't had time to tidy himself up since the war ended.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Stark. Ms. Pepper Potts suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder due to that war. The scene of the desperate fighting in the last few hours was too cruel and seriously affected her mental state."

"What about the doctor? Where is the Stark Group's doctor?!"

"Due to investigation needs, no doctor is currently available to serve the Stark Group. However, out of humanitarian considerations, S. H. I. E. L. D. and the FBI still allow Ms. Potts to receive certain medical assistance during the investigation process."

"She's hurt, and she's in a bad state now. You bastards, send her to the hospital!! You promised me!!"

"Please don't be agitated, Mr. Stark. Your interrogation hasn't started yet. You should understand that every word you say here could become evidence against you in court, and I'm afraid not many lawyers are willing to see you now."

Stark gripped the railing and closed his eyes. He lowered his head somewhat dejectedly, supported the table with his other hand, slowly clenched his fist, and then said, "I want to see Captain America."

"I'm afraid not, sir. You have been identified by the psychiatrist at the New York Presbyterian Hospital as having a serious tendency to manipulate, which is why you are being detained in a special cell. To ensure the fairness of the court's cross-examination, you have no right to meet or communicate with anyone other than your lawyer."

Bang! Stark slammed his fist on the table, but the guard only reminded him, "You'd better not have any violent behavior, otherwise you might be sent to a stricter cell, and we will have the right to take physical and drug restriction measures against you..."

"Why didn't you resist?" Schiller's question pulled Stark back to reality.

He was silent for a long time, and finally said, "For Pepper."