Chapter 233: Odinson (Part 2)

I have always believed that a person's upbringing plays the most crucial role in shaping their character; in other words, if another person were placed in your situation, they might not do any better than you.

Thor may naturally have a big heart, but even his largesse has limits; people think he is more generous than you simply because he received more during his upbringing—the attention, affection, and status you constantly crave, he obtained effortlessly, so of course he is generous, because he is a beneficiary.

You question why you always think so much and why you are plagued by these negative emotions, simply because you received less—or, compared to Thor, much less.

Now, let's switch perspectives: suppose you were Odin's only son—that is, Odin had no Thor at all, not from the beginning to the end—and yet Odin treated you exactly as he always had…

Loki fell into thought again, and Shearer's words echoed in his ears: "Without Thor as a reference point, do you still feel you received too little?"

Or rather, tell me this: as an Asgardian prince, what exactly have you received? After all, I'm just an ordinary person—I can't imagine your royal life.

I… Loki paused and said: "I have many privileges in Asgard—for instance, I live in the most magnificent building in all of Asgard, have countless Xiangong guards at my disposal around the clock, travel in a dedicated chariot, with the Rainbow Bridge always ready, we have exclusive royal robes and helmets symbolizing Asgardian honor…"

Aside from the Allfather and the Queen, and Thor, everyone—no matter their divine rank—must bow to me; I have my own guard, a dedicated swordmaster, etiquette officer, and coachman, own property along more than thirty streets, and hold two independent dimensional fiefs…

Enough, don't go on, Shearer placed the cup back on the table, this time with more force; Loki startled and looked at him. Shearer said: "I'll definitely send your brother a bill that will shock him."

Alright, I know you're thinking Thor has more—but I must tell you, whether you or Thor, both of your lives are absurdly privileged—not just compared to ordinary Earth humans, but even compared to ordinary Asgardians.

Without Thor as a contrast, I think you'd find your life far more acceptable; with Thor around, you simply seem less fortunate.

When people feel dissatisfied with their lives, it's usually because they feel distant from their goals—so what, exactly, is your goal?

This question may be broad, but let me give you a concrete example: do you feel this life isn't luxurious enough, and you crave more land and wealth, endless fortune and status—or do you merely want more than Thor, and just need to surpass him?

Before Loki could answer, Shearer said: "Logically, everyone should pursue the former—after all, who doesn't love money?"

But from your current state, it seems you're pursuing the latter—because when Thor fell, and you surpassed him, you suddenly became content with life.

How do you know I'm content with life?

Shearer spread his hands: "Simply put, people act because they have motivation; inner motivation is complex—it can stem from concrete things, like seeking pleasure or revenge, or from abstract ones, like affirming self-worth."

When you refrain from acting—or have the chance to act but choose to abandon it, preferring to idle in place—it proves that motivation has weakened.

This usually happens because the goal has already been achieved: you've acquired more money than you can spend, revenge has been fulfilled, or you've realized your life's value through some means.

Haven't you noticed you're idling right now? Shearer looked at Loki: "Don't tell me you were born loving to serve difficult clients and probe the limits of human comprehension and communication."

Loki opened his mouth, drew in a breath, and realized he couldn't refute it; he pressed his hand to his forehead and began to reflect.

What exactly is he doing now? Why isn't he plotting schemes capable of shaking the Nine Realms, but instead clocking in and out from nine to nine?

Although I hate to leap to conclusions, based on what I know of you, normally you'd already be plotting a grander scheme—like finding something to kill your brother…

But you haven't done it, likely because your life has changed—you've surpassed Thor, not just in quality of life, but also in the very area he values most: honor—and you now have ample time to mock him.

Though you haven't admitted it, you're clearly very satisfied with this life, which is why you linger here, avoiding real work, just killing time.

Loki clenched his fingers together and said: "I'm already very satisfied? But I feel…"

What? Feeling unambitious? Thinking your goals aren't grand enough? So what do you want to do? Kill Thor first, then Odin, then conquer all Nine Realms?

That's certainly a good goal—and with your abilities, you could achieve it. But if you truly wanted that as your goal, you wouldn't be sitting here right now, would you?

The moment you learned you weren't Odin's biological son—that was a pivotal turning point in your life; you had two paths: either return to Asgard via the Rainbow Bridge and pretend you know nothing—or…

As Shearer looked at Loki, Loki looked back at him, and continued Shearer's sentence: "Or… go find Thor."

You want to see him, don't you?

How unusual, Shearer raised his pen: "Usually, when people feel pain, they call for their mother."

Loki turned his head away, ignoring Shearer's mocking tone. Shearer continued: "The first part is over. Let's review."

The conclusion drawn from the identity-swap hypothesis is that all your current emotions are perfectly normal—anyone else would feel the same—and we've discovered that Thor appears more generous not because he's superior, but simply due to different upbringing.

Then we examined how a change in circumstances weakens inner motivation, leading us to infer that your goal is merely to surpass Thor.

I believe you now have a new understanding of your relationship with Thor; next comes the question you truly want answered: your relationship with Odin.

At the mention of Odin's name, Loki's expression remained complex—he didn't even notice the subtle shift in his facial muscles.

Perhaps you expected me to deliver another elaborate theoretical analysis, but in reality, it's difficult, Shearer sighed: "You've provided too few data points, too many variables—I can't offer psychological guidance based on such uncertain factors; it would lead to massive inaccuracies."

What uncertain… data?

For example: what is your actual relationship with Odin? Are you truly his biological son? If not, how did you become his son? What was his purpose in raising you? And so on…

Your relationship with Odin is more complex; under these conditions, certain logic doesn't hold, and the possible outcomes multiply. If you insist on probing to the deepest depths, you'll only confuse yourself further.

So regarding this part, I can only give you two suggestions: first, find out exactly what happened; second…

Shearer drew out the word, Loki watched him, but no answer came; he asked: "What?"

Shearer shifted his posture, rested his forearm on the table, lifted his shoulders, and looked at Loki: "Throughout your life, have you ever caused trouble?"

Of course not, Loki said firmly: "I'm not Thor. Every task the Allfather assigned me, I completed perfectly."

If you've never caused trouble, how do you know Odin wouldn't clean up after you?

Loki pursed his lips, his voice incredulous: "You're not seriously suggesting I… go cause trouble?"

Although I'm not certain what kind of man Odin is, from some stories Strange brought back, I've heard Odin was once impulsive himself—Thor is very much like him.

Generally, parents are more tolerant of children who resemble them, because they've been there themselves—they know certain errors are inevitable for certain temperaments.

Your main insecurity stems from the belief that Odin wouldn't tolerate your mistakes; now that you've learned you're not his biological son, you think he'll tolerate you even less.

But I think you should try—you'll never know his limits unless you test them. A little Shitan might bring a surprise.

Loki struggled to describe his feelings: "You're encouraging me… to cause trouble?"

I didn't say that—I'm simply conducting normal psychological counseling, Shearer continued to fiddle with his pen: "Once people satisfy their inner goals and fall into a state of smug complacency, they instinctively seek amusement—you're no different."

When Loki returned to his apartment, it wasn't yet dark, so Thor hadn't left for work; he held a takeout bag, unwrapping it and pulling out fried chicken.

Thor still had long hair, though his beard was trimmed shorter; he wore a cheap hoodie of unknown origin, his hands greasy. Seeing this, Loki swallowed his words—he realized sometimes not digging too deep might be better.

I've never understood why you consider this man your rival, Venom said inside Loki's mind: "Why don't we go play seesaw downstairs? Oh, wait—we're one person, we can't play seesaw. What a shame."

…That's your relationship with your brother.

Loki ignored him, sat on the sofa opposite Thor, and began fiddling with the takeout box in front of Thor. Thor was surprised by the gesture, looked up, and asked: "Aren't you disgusted by greasy fried chicken?"

Then he opened the lid facing Loki, pressed it down to reveal the chicken inside, and pushed the box to the center of the coffee table: "I could only afford a small portion, but if you want some, I'll share a few pieces."

Loki pulled his hand back, resting it on his knee, propping his chin with his fingers—he saw the box contained only five or six pieces of chicken, even by small-portion standards, far too few.

Thor shrugged: "Their flavor is really good, just expensive and small portions—but no matter, we've got this…"

He pulled a plastic bag from under the coffee table, filled with beer cans; after lifting it, he saw only one can remained. "Well, better than nothing."

He pulled out the can, opened it, placed it on the table, and noticed Loki sitting still, motionless. Thor asked, puzzled: "Why are you just sitting there? Go get a glass."

Then he paused: "Alright, I won't mock you for drinking from a glass—this once."

Need I tell you? You really want to…

Venom's voice rose, but Loki cut him off: "Yes, I really want to punch him."

Well, looks like even gods are like humans…

As Venom's voice faded, the hiss of beer foam filling the glass rose; outside, the sky darkened, a breeze stirred the curtains gently, the temperature dropped, autumn's evening wind grew colder, the insects fell silent, and all grew profoundly still.

No alarm system