Chapter 370: New and Better (Part 1)

New York is a true city that never sleeps, especially the skyscrapers near Wall Street in Manhattan, where lights burn brightly all night; even at 11 p. ., the streets remain as bright as day and crowded with people.

In the Arkham Sanatorium, not far from Wall Street, Schiller was bent over his desk when a peculiar secure phone beside him rang; he picked it up and said, "Hello, yes, I'm the 'Doctor'…"

"Yes, I'm truly sorry about Director Pierce's fate… Four bases in eastern New York? I'm afraid I'm overwhelmed with work right now—you know, I'm the only senior member left in all of New York still maintaining communication and not in silence."

"... lright, but I can only accept two bases; the other two… I suggest you strategically abandon them and evacuate the personnel…"

"What? Safe havens? I'm sorry, but Director Pierce left me no sufficient safe havens before going silent—all of them are already at full capacity."

Schiller sighed and said, "I'm not being greedy, but too many people are coming to me… Yes, thank you for understanding—additional personnel on the security roster are charged per head: $300, 00 per senior manager or key researcher."

Listening to the reply, Schiller pressed his forehead, his tone growing colder: "Do you think now is the time to haggle? The West Coast is their primary target—do you know how much risk I take just by accepting your people?"

"Don't lecture me. Everyone knows these emergency evacuations are just your way of preserving your own loyal factions—only my safe havens are truly reliable. If you want to waste your money on con artists, I won't stop you…"

"Fifty? No, I already said—slots are limited, I can give you at most fifteen, $300, 00 each… Fine, 10% discount—considering we both once served under Director Pierce…"

Schiller sighed, put down the phone, leaned back in his chair, and stretched, then looked across at Nick Fury.

Nick Fury looked up from his desk and said, "Another five million in, huh?"

"Same as always—fifty-fifty split. But I think this pittance doesn't even begin to compensate for the psychological trauma of overtime."

As Schiller was about to stand and make coffee, his phone rang again; he picked it up and said, "Hello, this is the 'Doctor.' What? Your base was attacked? I'm sorry, I have no spare personnel to send for rescue."

"Your attackers are Captain America? Even if God himself attacked you, I couldn't save you…"

"Alright, I can only give you an evacuation route—immediately head to New York Harbor; special agents will meet you there. But if you wish to transfer to a safe haven, send a message to your superior to pay your security fee…"

"Let me repeat: this isn't extortion. Safe havens are already at full capacity. If you think you can sneak in without paying, what will others think? Call your superior right now—if he's willing to pay, you'll be saved; if not, may God protect you…"

Schiller hung up. Nick teased, "Cold-hearted, Doctor."

"Likewise."

After Schiller pulled off a substitution scheme—making Pierce go fully silent and eliminating his backup Garrett—he fully seized control of Hydra agents within S. . . . . . and fabricated a security program, turning Arkham Sanatorium into Hydra's "secure" haven.

From the start, Schiller never intended to exploit these agents—plainly, what profit could these workers offer? Even selling immortality factors would be slow and messy.

Schiller chose a different path, opening a new industry line.

The rivalry between Stark and Steve was heating up, their competition intensifying, so the purge expanded in scale—Hydra agents on both coasts were drawn in. Since the competition erupted so suddenly, most had no preparation.

Unlike S. . . . . .'s hypocritical "investigations," Captain America and Iron Man were deadly serious about eliminating Hydra—within days, Hydra leaders on both coasts suffered heavy losses.

As one after another so-called safe haven was breached, more Hydra leaders went silent to protect themselves; the more they went silent, the less capable they became of organizing effective defense or counterattacks, and losses mounted.

These leaders went silent themselves, but they couldn't bear to see their loyal factions wiped out—otherwise, when they emerged, wouldn't they be utterly alone?

As always, Hydra excelled at infighting—they had to consider: after silence ended, how would they face their ravenous colleagues? If they truly became powerless commanders, they'd be devoured whole.

At this time, a rumor spread among the upper echelons: former S. . . . . . director and Hydra's most famous leader, Alexander Pierce, before going silent, left behind a similarly experienced silent agent and an absolutely secret safe haven.

This silent agent's codename was "Doctor"—likely an S. . . . . . agent, though identity remains unknown. Undoubtedly, his security program was highly effective.

Why was this security program so immediately effective? It begins with S. . . . . .

After key Hydra agents in S. . . . . . were transferred, a massive purge began immediately—agents not enrolled in the security program were eliminated outright.

Of course, this was a coordinated move by Nick and Schiller: after Schiller moved the vital Hydra agents, only minor players remained; Nick easily found excuses to purge them. With core Hydra members gone, they could no longer mount any serious defense or counterattack.

The secured agents were locked up in the sanatorium, but those not secured lost their lives—this further proved the importance of the security program and confirmed the "Doctor's" experience and decisiveness.

After rumors of the safe haven spread, many Hydra leaders began considering transferring their loyal personnel inside.

Schiller demanding payment was no surprise—they were Hydra. If not now, when?

On the contrary, Schiller's conduct boosted their confidence—if he weren't a true Hydra member, how could he be so adept at exploiting others' desperation and demanding exorbitant prices?

His proficiency proves Pierce's keen eye!

No wonder I'm Hydra.

The leaders felt an unmistakable kinship in Schiller's actions; they paid no mind to his high fees. Hydra had operated for decades—they had the capital. Spending money to preserve their loyal factions was the most economical choice.

During evacuation to Arkham Sanatorium, 80% were captured by S. . . . . .'s "clairvoyant" agents; the remaining 20% successfully reached the sanatorium, yet they saw nothing wrong with it.

The situation had become this dire—surviving at 20% was already a miracle.

But they didn't know that in the sanatorium director's office, their savior was weighing them by the pound and selling them to S. . . . . .'s director.

"Honestly, you should find a way to step back. In a few days, those two madmen will turn their attention to you," Nick urged Schiller. "We all know we're serving justice, but those two have gotten reckless lately—if they accidentally harm their own, it won't be good…"

Schiller wasn't worried at all. He smiled and said, "Don't worry—I've already got a plan."

"What plan?" Nick looked up at him.

At that moment, a portal opened in the office; Strange stepped out. He glanced at the sky outside, yawned, and sat beside Schiller. Schiller asked, "You're done?"

"Yes. The Sorcerer Supreme has handed over all Kamar-Taj affairs to me. I'm now truly the Sorcerer Supreme—just awaiting the formal handover ceremony."

The All-Powerful Soldier of the Female CEO

"Congratulations. But earlier you said you've had plenty of troubles lately—what's wrong?"

At this, Strange frowned. "The Masters think Stark is too stingy—ten ships, yet they gave us only one to study…"

"You know, those Masters are obsessed with research. One ship won't satisfy their appetite."

"Mages have many schools—some use white magic, others study summoning magic; their approaches differ. Some want to fully energy-convert the ships, others want to use enchantment tech. I've stopped at least a dozen arguments recently…"

"At minimum, we need three ships," Strange concluded. "Fewer than that, and I can't balance the Masters' experimental needs."

"Like I said on the phone—your mages have portals. Sneaking up to do research shouldn't be noticed."

"That's exactly what I'm hesitating about…" Strange looked troubled. "I don't want to escalate hostility between humans and mages. We're Earth's guardians, not its managers or rulers. If discovered, Stark will be furious."

"Just don't get caught. Don't the Masters always clean up after their experiments?"

"Of course we do. We're not like Stark's wealthy types. Kamar-Taj has long upheld frugality. Our magic is eco-friendly, pollution-free—even waste is nonexistent."

"Moreover, the Sorcerer Supreme left me a special item that can reset time…"

Strange's eyes brightened as he spoke: "I can have the Masters conduct experiments, then use the Stone to restore the ships—Stark will never detect us…"

He stood up and said to Schiller, "Yes—I've got an idea."

He opened a portal, stepped one foot inside, and turned back to say, "Thank you—for your flexible thinking, and… morality."

After Strange vanished completely, Nick stared at the spot where he'd disappeared and asked thoughtfully, "Your scapegoat?"

"Don't say that. There are many doctors in this world—why would anyone suspect Stephen?"

"True, no one would suspect him originally—but you encouraged him to illegally infiltrate Stark's ships right under his nose. Who do you think Stark will suspect?"

Schiller walked over with coffee, handed Nick a cup, and raised his own: "You don't say it, I don't say it—who knows he was inspired by me?"

Nick smiled, raised his cup, and the two clinked gently, sharing a knowing grin.