Chapter 355

Winter nights arrive late, but the darkness is deeper; as Christmas draws near, human dreams grow more varied, and Santa Claus, riding a sled pulled by reindeer, races through one dream after another, bringing people festive illusions.

On the rooftop of Stark Tower in the dream, Shi Ler rubbed his chin and said, "I didn't expect you could memorize that whole speech, and your improvisation at the end was quite good…"

"God knows how long I memorized it, and I had to practice my expressions in front of a mirror—do you have any idea how hard that is? You came up with this plan yourself, why don't you just go do it…"

"Where would I get magical powers to give to symbiotes? I'm just an ordinary person." Shi Ler sat down on the sofa. Stark watched them discuss, rubbed his eyes, and felt his moral boundaries were utterly out of place here.

He said, "Are you really okay with deceiving the symbiotes' emotions like this? Even if you're offering coal in the snow, you don't need to make it this melodramatic."

"Do you know who the technical consultant for this performance is?"

"Who?"

"It's Venom. He said cosmic agents are most moved by a sense of mission and responsibility—if humans appeal to that point, they'll be utterly overwhelmed."

Stark asked in confusion, "What possible grudge does that blob of slime have against the cosmic agents?"

"Their grudge is huge. The cosmic agents were constantly hunting Venom because he dumped feces into the sulfur dwarf's starport in Andromeda…"

"But now, their hatred must be resolved," Strange returned and sat down. "Because the sulfur dwarves have become enemies."

"Not necessarily," Shi Ler yawned. "The sulfur dwarves declared war on the Consortium civilization, the Consortium broke ties with the symbiotes, and now in Andromeda, it's a three-way standoff—your enemy's enemy is your friend."

"But the sulfur dwarves wouldn't ally with symbiotes either—they harbor deeper hatred for each other, and symbiotes fear the sonic waves and flames from dwarven metalworking; he'd never parasitize those dwarves," Luo Yi said, fiddling with a branch in her hand.

"I can see you're weaving a wreath—that's exactly why I'm asking: what are you doing?" Stark looked at Luo Yi's hands.

"Can't you tell? I'm weaving a wreath."

"Precisely because I can see you're weaving a wreath, I'm asking—let me be clear: I have no objection to you becoming a goddess, but isn't weaving wreaths a bit too much?"

"You're just objecting. Why can't I weave wreaths? The goddesses of Asgard do three things every day: bathe in the lake, weave wreaths, and spy on me."

"Stop flattering yourself," Strange exposed Luo Yi. "Since you became a goddess, who's been spying on you?"