Chapter 2751

After eating and drinking, Peter lay on the sofa, making a satisfied sigh. He touched his stomach and then said: "Although the new nursing home is big and luxurious, I still like it here."

He glanced back and found that Schiller was still busy with something in the kitchen, so he turned his head back and said with a bit of complaint: "You poured me too much wine today, Doctor, but you didn't drink much yourself. This is not fair at all..."

"Because I don't like sherry. Obviously, I am a port party." Schiller looked back at him and said: "But I also drank a glass, which is giving you face."

"This can't blame me either." Peter tilted his head and looked directly at the ceiling, his Adam's apple trembling as he spoke. He said: "You guys never discuss the issue of wine with me, as if I will always be 16, and can't even listen to it. I don't know what kind of wine each of you likes at all."

"There is no need to know that either." Schiller said: "I think only alcoholics will value these. For people who don't drink excessively, it doesn't matter which kind of wine they prefer."

Schiller was cutting vegetables slowly, but the plates in the sink showed that they had already eaten salad, but Schiller was still using a knife to cut purple cabbage slowly. With one knife down, countless purple vegetable shreds fell.

Suddenly, his hand paused, as if he couldn't control his body, and a look of panic appeared on his face. He muttered in a low voice: "No, don't open the elevator! Superego... he violated the rules!"

The next second, thin fingers grabbed the knife. Schiller turned around, took the knife, and walked behind the sofa. Peter tilted his head up, eyes raised as high as possible, as if trying to see behind him with such a funny posture.

A hand was placed on Peter's Adam's apple. Peter didn't move, but looked up in confusion.

When opening his eyes wide, he saw that Schiller, who appeared directly above him, was not wearing glasses, and those scattered gray eyes were looking at him.

"You taught your little lamb very well, Greed."

Peter heard a low, satisfied tone with a smile. He struggled instinctively.

The next second, the knife replaced the position of the hand, and blood sprayed out, but the process was very short, and Peter soon had no movement.

The next second, the knife was pulled out. Schiller held the back of the sofa somewhat embarrassedly, panting and gritting his teeth and cursing: "You guys are really crazy! How dare you grab the elevator?!!"

"Don't get it wrong." He suddenly changed to an indifferent expression, then revealed a mischievous smile, leaned on the sofa and said: "Only you guys need the elevator, and we are the real Schiller."

Schiller straightened his body slowly. His brain seemed to be still boiling, but it had no effect at all. Some resistance was suppressed. He didn't care about Peter's corpse, but walked slowly to the island and picked up the bottle of wine.

"I'm just thanking this little guy for the wine."

The next second, Schiller lay on the table again. He gritted his teeth and hammered the table and said: "You guys have never forcibly replaced Pride! I want to protest!"

"Guess who is the biggest sherry party?"

A morbid and playful voice sounded in the high tower.

Greed looked down from the highest point. Pride in a black suit was holding a wine glass, standing among a group of colorful morbid ones, looking up from the first floor.

Greed muttered and stopped talking.

He walked over and moved Peter's corpse to the ground, and at the same time called S. H. I. E. L. D. This time Nick came personally. He was taken aback when he saw Peter's corpse.

But soon he realized something. When he walked over, he didn't say anything, just silently patted Schiller on the shoulder when passing by.

Schiller saw Peter waiting anxiously in the Death Realm. He was treated differently from others. Death seemed to keep him at a distance and didn't lock him in a small box, just letting him wander in the garden alone.

Seeing Schiller's figure, Peter rushed up and asked very anxiously: "What's wrong? Doctor, are you okay?!"

"Are you sure you should ask this?" Schiller opened his mouth slowly and said.

Peter was stunned for a moment, and then said: "Otherwise? Oh, I also want to ask what happened. Were you influenced by something? Or is there some danger approaching me, and if I don't come here, I can't avoid it?"

Schiller shook his head and said nothing, seeming surprised yet not surprised by this result. He just told Peter everything as it was.

Unexpectedly, Peter wasn't very surprised after hearing it. He sat down at the table in the garden, put one hand on the table and said: "In fact, after coming back from the Battleworld, I felt that my emotions were not very good, but not the kind of intense one. It's just that I always think about some things I wouldn't think about before, such as the significance of the existence of superheroes."

"In fact, I am also very surprised that I would make the decision to give my ability to others. Sometimes I also think, is this really a decision I made? Obviously I also want to protect those ordinary people who go home at night. Can I throw away my ability and responsibility and make such a ruthless decision?"

"But no matter what." Peter raised his head and looked at Schiller with those eyes full of light and said: "They shouldn't let you bear such pain, Doctor. At that time you... I mean, the you I am most familiar with hid, right?"

"It's not that I want it to be like this." Schiller felt the explanation was a bit pale, but he couldn't deny it, although this sounded very much like shirking responsibility.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief and said: "That's good. When I first came here, I thought, that definitely wasn't you. That should be a very terrible criminal, and shouldn't feel sad because of killing me. This is the only good news."

Schiller, whose hand was also on the table, paused and said: "Don't you feel sad?"

"Sad about what? Sad that you escaped a disaster?" Peter shook his head and said very seriously: "You are a mental patient, and will think whether killing a person with your own hands has any crazy special significance, but I am not. I am a normal person. I will only be glad that the elder I care about avoided something that might leave trauma barriers, and think this is the good fortune in misfortune."

Schiller was speechless.

He had always had no way to deal with such normal people. Clark is like this, Peter is like this. These people who are normal to the point of being abnormal are the natural nemesis of people like Schiller. Their train of thought will never be led by Schiller, and they will infinitely approach another kind of madness in their own way.

"Doctor, if you think the problem is with the body, have you considered genes?" Peter suddenly proposed a new possibility. He said: "I remember you said before that there is a type of person who is naturally mentally unstable. This has nothing to do with their encounters and living environment, and is more like some kind of genetic inheritance."

Schiller sat next to him and soon entered the state. He said: "There is indeed such a situation, and it can be said to be very common. Some people's condition didn't reach the degree of mental illness, so the mental instability for generations has been ignored. But in fact, this is indeed related to genetic inheritance. Do you think someone moved the genes of these people?"

"There is indeed such a possibility." Peter looked at Schiller and said: "If all the genes that determine the mental state of these people are replaced with genes that might lead to mental instability, can they be artificially transformed into people with unstable mental states?"

"I don't have research in this area." Schiller said: "I am not a brain scientist, nor a geneticist. Analyzing only from the psychological level, there is such a possibility."

"Then it is very likely that this is the case, because I understand genetics." Peter said: "Although human research on genes is not particularly deep at present, there have been some results in the recent period, especially in the relationship between genes and brain science."

"I have a way to verify this conjecture." Peter stood up and said: "Where are the corpses of those people you killed before, Doctor?"

"They are all in S. H. I. E. L. D."

"Let's go, let's go to S. H. I. E. L. D."

Soon Schiller and the resurrected Peter came to the place where S. H. I. E. L. D. kept the corpses. Nick was checking these corpses, but he was very careful, and everyone was wearing protective clothing.

"Glad you're okay, Peter." Nick walked over and hugged him.

"To accuse me, I have to wait until this matter is over." Peter moved aside from Nick half-jokingly, raised his head and looked at the corpses placed in the safety cabin.

Nick retreated slowly to Schiller's side and said: "I think he is becoming more and more like you, what do you think?"

"Yes, he is really excellent and very calm."

"I mean he is becoming more and more crazy!!!" Nick roared: "How can Spider-Man 'say that to accuse me I have to wait until this matter is over'?! You completely corrupted him!!!"

"My pleasure." Schiller revealed a provocative smile.

Peter looked in front of the corpses and turned to Nick and said: "I think we can let these corpses be resurrected, and then see if the spiritual body inside the corpse will still be polluted by some kind of pollution. This way we can determine that the pollution indeed exists on the body, and observing how it pollutes the spiritual body might let us figure out which part of the body it is hidden in."

Peter's train of thought obviously had a jump. Nick didn't react and said: "This corpse is very dangerous, and these people have already been resurrected, they cannot..."

"I mean, we simulate a brainwave, that is, create a ghost and put it into the corpse, then resurrect him, and observe how the ghost is polluted by the pollutants in the corpse."

Nick gasped and glared at Schiller, saying: "Look at the crazy scientist you cultivated!"

"I'm not crazy, Nick." Peter was still trying to explain, "Because we discovered it too late, and out of safety considerations, we have to take such tough measures the moment we discover it, and there is no chance to observe. But observation is precisely the best way to get clues. Since we missed the opportunity on living people, using corpses is also fine."

Then he stepped forward and explained sincerely: "I know if things are like this, I can't escape the responsibility, but it's still that sentence, if I am destined to be accused, I have to solve this matter first, because Gwen and others are in danger now, saving them is more important than judging me."

"No one wants to judge you!" Nick said firmly: "This matter will not be known by anyone, and those who know will not betray you. I'm saying your method is too dangerous!"

"More dangerous than judging me?"

Nick took a deep breath. He looked at Peter, then looked at Schiller, then looked at Peter, gritted his teeth and cursed, saying: "I have to admit, it is indeed more dangerous to judge you, because if I throw you into prison, besides this crazy guy named Rodriguez, there will be crazy guys named Stark, crazy guys named Rogers, and crazy guys named Strange coming to me."

"Believe me, all other crazy guys combined can't compare to me." Schiller said quite proudly: "You won't even have a chance to see them."

Nick was really completely unable to stand these mental patients. He hammered the table and said: "I said, I will absolutely not allow this matter..."

Peter took out his phone and shook it in front of Nick, then said: "Times have changed, Director. The account of the three generations of Spider-Man has more than 4 million fans on the whole network..."

Nick took a deep breath, his eyes almost popping out of his sockets. Peter continued: "If you don't let me participate in the investigation, I will go to surrender publicly. If you attribute the multiple accusations on Mysterio to me, you'd better think about how to deal with this group of crazy guys during the 300 years I'm in prison."

Nick blurted out a curse.

But in the end, he compromised, and looking at Peter who immediately started to get busy, he endured the swelling pain in his forehead and said to Schiller.

"Tell me he drank too much, really, I can't accept any possibility other than him going crazy while drunk."

"Yes, he drank too much." Schiller smiled and said: "But he is almost 30 years old, no longer a child."