Chapter 391

While eating and chatting with Stark for a while, Steve suddenly felt much more relaxed. He didn't know why, but Stark today seemed a bit understanding.

God, what was he thinking? Understanding? How could these words be listed together with Stark? After Stark left, Steve rubbed his forehead, feeling that he must be under too much pressure and having hallucinations.

Since Bucky was rescued, he had been receiving treatment in a secret S. H. I. E. L. D. base. According to the feedback Nick gave Steve, Bucky's situation was not optimistic.

Hydra in those years couldn't be completely considered a spy agency; it served the war situation more. And when the war situation was intense, they were very eager for quick success, so the brainwashing method used on Bucky was very violent. Now he had completely turned into a cold-blooded and ruthless killing machine.

While recalling those things from back then and sighing, what Steve didn't even notice was that every time he recalled these things, his fingers would tremble somewhat unconsciously, as if those heroic deeds he mentioned in the past were more like poison than an antidote.

With a complicated mood, Steve returned to the Avengers base. The time was still very early, and not many people had come. Steve walked toward the dark hall. The moment he turned on the lights, he heard Peter let out a surprised "Oh!"

"You're here. Sorry, I thought no one was here. Why didn't you turn on the lights?" Steve walked over and saw Peter was fiddling with a device. Peter smiled and said, "I'm testing the power cut. To prevent accidents, I pulled the power switch down directly."

"What is this?" Steve asked, looking at those complex devices he couldn't understand. Peter glanced at Steve's complexion and said, "Captain, what's wrong with you? Why do you look like your complexion isn't very good?"

Steve touched his face. He sighed in his heart. Even Peter could see his state wasn't good. Stark must have been laughing at him for being pathetic to the extreme in his heart just now, right?

"Nothing, just didn't sleep well." Steve just made a polite remark, but Peter walked to the side and moved a chair for him. Peter patted the back of the chair and said, "Sometimes, you also have to sit for a while. If you always stand, your waist and legs will be very sore. My uncle often says that."

"Thanks, Peter, you're really thoughtful, but I think standing will be a bit more energetic." Steve smiled and didn't sit down, but leaned his waist against the billiard table on the side.

Peter said while debugging the device, "Captain, sometimes I feel you are wound too tight, always wanting people to see you in high spirits, but actually everyone gets tired..."

"That's because you aren't a leader, Peter." Steve blinked, lowered his head, and then said, "You have to give everyone confidence, let them feel that such a heroic you will definitely be able to lead them to victory. This is what I have been doing. I have done it for many years, and I will continue to do it."

Peter shook his head. He tilted his head and glanced at Steve again, his eyes a bit worried, but he still didn't say anything. He patted the device and introduced it to Steve, "Last time when dealing with Bullseye, those things Mr. Stark taught me gave me great inspiration."

"The monitoring system doesn't necessarily have to be a rigid choice of monitoring or listening to a few locations, but can completely be made into a dynamic system. And as for the supporting analysis system, it doesn't necessarily have to just summarize data; we can make it a bit more intelligent."

"I know, actually this set of things should be handled by Mr. Stark, but if so, the analysis hub he uses must be the super artificial intelligence Jarvis owned by Stark Industries."

Peter lowered his head, fiddling with the machine, and said, "I can tell, Captain, your relationship with Mr. Stark is a bit..."

"Forget it, I know I shouldn't talk about people behind their backs like this, but I feel that you might not want the Avengers to rely too much on Stark Industries, or S. H. I. E. L. D..."

"Actually, I think so too. This is no good for us. If justice cannot be pure and independent, but it is very likely to be kidnapped by other things, then it won't be justice anymore."

Steve walked over, patted Peter's shoulder, looked into his eyes, and said, "You know what? Peter, you have really grown a lot. Do you remember the incident where vampires attacked the Brooklyn Bridge?"

"At that time, I thought you were just a hot-headed kid with a heart full of passion, very similar to me when I was young. But now, you are already an excellent member of the Avengers, and also an excellent superhero. The speed of your progress really surprises me."

Peter didn't jump up with joy because he was recognized. He said, "When I changed, I realized that I had stepped into a broader field. In the adult world, problems are more than experiences, and responsibilities are heavier than beliefs."

"Captain, you often tell me about your experiences in the past. You talked about how you heard the war had broken out, heard the news of countless people dying from the radio, and you felt sorrow and helplessness."

"Then you wanted to go to the battlefield to save others with a heart full of passion, and you successfully did so."

Peter sighed and said, "I am very glad that now I won't hear the news that the world is about to be destroyed from the radio or television, and won't suddenly know one day that I must grow up overnight and then immediately go to save the world."

"If it were really like that, I don't know what I would be like." Peter shook his head, his tone a bit panicked.

"If when I started my freshman year of high school, someone told me that I would be on the battlefield tomorrow, facing machine gun fire, and the bombardment of fighter jets, watching comrades of my age fall and die, I might really collapse."

Steve looked at Peter with a smile and said, "Maybe I exaggerated this process a bit before. Just take it as a story, Peter."

Peter took a deep breath, trying hard to get rid of that terrible imagination. Steve also cast his gaze on the device and said, "Then, what can it do?"

"The simplest thing is that I have compiled a system for the frequently occurring assassination cases recently, mainly targeting some luxury places like hotels, mansions, theaters, etc., as well as a dynamic monitoring system for luxury cars within the center of New York. This can let us find the suspects entering and leaving these places faster."

Peter pointed to a display screen in the middle of the device and said, "Look here, the colored marks on this car represent the places it has entered and exited within 48 hours."

"Orange represents hotels, blue represents bars, and purple represents popular commercial streets and luxury stores. This way we can see if the car's movement trajectory is normal."

"If a car, during several monitoring periods, has not gone to any place that the upper class should go to, but suddenly appears at a high-end location, then its suspicion will rise."

"This is the most preliminary and simple application of data flow, but it's enough for us." Peter shrugged and said.

"Actually, the most difficult part is installing the monitoring, but because we have enough special materials, the volume of the monitoring can be compressed to be very small, but the clarity is very high. And installing monitoring isn't a difficult thing for us, so we can achieve this point."

"In the final analysis, it's still the progress of materials science that brought about the progress of technology." Peter pinched a patch-style camera and said, "Don't look at this thing as very small. The parts inside these things added together, the amount of molten steel used, is very likely the annual vibranium production of Wakanda."

"It's already great, Peter." Steve said quite pleasantly, "The only sentence of Stark's I agree with is that you really have talent, kid, no matter in what aspect."

"Not necessarily." Peter walked to the chair he had moved over and sat down, somewhat dejectedly saying, "Before, didn't Dr. Schiller move back to the clinic in Hell's Kitchen?"

"I wanted to go stay with him for a few days, but I don't know why, when I walked to the door, my spider-sense started ringing non-stop."

"My God, it had never been that noisy before, it almost deafened me. I also don't know what happened, so I didn't walk in."

"Dr. Schiller stood inside the door and talked to me. We chatted for a while, and then talked about the psychology part. Dr. Schiller said I wasn't suitable for studying psychology. I thought he thought highly of me before..."

"People can't be proficient in every subject." Steve comforted Peter, "No one can be all-knowing and all-powerful. The talent you have shown in mechanics, engineering, mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, etc., is already high enough."

"But I don't quite understand. The reason Dr. Schiller said I wasn't suitable for studying psychology is that I am too kind. Could it be that people who study psychology aren't kind? But Dr. Schiller is clearly also a good person."

Steve pursed his lips. He recalled the performance of Schiller he had seen on the Hive main star recently, which in any case couldn't be associated with the word kind.

But he still said, "Perhaps, he feels you are too full of sympathy. If you try to understand the world of those mental patients, it might affect your own."

"Let's not talk about this." Peter quickly got rid of that frustrated mood. He sat on the chair and looked up at Steve. From this angle, he could clearly see Steve's stubble. It looked like he hadn't shaved this morning. Although he was still very handsome, he looked a bit haggard.

Peter said tactfully, "Captain, the psychological counseling arranged for you by S. H. I. E. L. D., did you go on time?"

"They seem to have only arranged 10 sessions of psychological counseling for me. According to Nick, it seems Schiller's asking price was too expensive, but I actually didn't go enough for 10 times, only went five. I feel my mentality is still okay, nothing needs counseling."

"But I heard Dr. Schiller say that psychological problems are the same as other physiological diseases and need regular follow-up visits?"

"Alright, Peter, you don't need to beat around the bush. I know you want to say that my current state looks a bit wrong, but that's actually just because work is a bit busy, I have a bit of insomnia."

Seeing this, Peter didn't say anything more, but Steve's tightly pursed corners of his mouth betrayed his heart that wasn't calm.

By the evening, the base finally became a bit lively. Everyone discussed the combat plan together. Peter brought pizza on the way here, and everyone gorged themselves.

The polished cocktail shaker was thrown high, turned two circles in the light of the bar, and then like a meteor falling from the stars, landed in Ma Te's hand. He spun the glass in his hand, causing cheers from several children. Blade Eric was sitting on the sofa, telling them those terrifying rumors about vampires.

Peter, Steve, Elektra, and Hawkeye Barton were playing Ludo. While staring at the pieces, they discussed the recent events at S. H. I. E. L. D. After a while, several mutant children and Eric also walked over, and they started sitting in a circle chatting.

In the underground base, without windows to judge the light, it seemed that as long as the lights didn't go out, the joyful atmosphere could continue forever.

But soon, several younger children started to get sleepy. They each went to the bedroom to rest, and several people who had to go to work the next day also left.

Finally, only Steve was left, sitting on the sofa, tidying up the pizza boxes on the coffee table. Peter and Ma Te originally wanted to stay to help him, but were rejected by Steve.

He originally thought that he needed some time alone to sort out his somewhat chaotic thoughts, but when the time alone really came, a feeling of unease started to spread in his heart.

He reached out to take the pizza box, but found his fingertips trembling non-stop. Steve's gaze froze, seemingly surprised at the reaction of his own limbs. Since when had his hands been shaking?

"No..." Steve denied in his heart.

"It should have just started just now, others shouldn't have seen it."

But there was another voice in his heart telling him that this situation had appeared long ago, and everyone had seen it, seen that he was a haggard, panicked, and trembling softie. They wouldn't trust you anymore, wouldn't feel that Captain America was an indestructible leader. They would feel that you were already old, already no longer a savior...

"Bang!" A stack of pizza boxes was dropped by him on the ground. Steve leaned back hard, letting the sofa make a "creak" sound, as if only this could reflect that he still had strength.

He pinched his brow with his hand, clearly feeling the muscles on his arms trembling, and his shoulders to his elbows were a bit sore, but he still persisted, refusing to put his arms down, just like a puppet that had just obtained a body, trying hard to adapt to his own limbs.

Steve was telling his limbs in a tough attitude: "You must listen to me, keep still, steady, and full of strength!"

But the more he did this, the more he felt his body was out of his own control. A kind of anxiety of knowing the situation was wrong but being unable to do anything about it was gradually devouring him.

Steve tried hard to breathe deeply, but he didn't notice that the depth of his inhalation and exhalation was getting shallower and shallower, but the speed was getting faster and faster, until the air made a "puff puff" light sound when passing through his nostrils and lips, and then he pursed the muscles around his mouth hard until his whole face became stiff.

Finally, a panic without reason devoured him. He swallowed hard, his arms trembling as he fished out his phone from his pocket, dialed the number, and said: "Hello? Doctor? I think I might need treatment. Is tomorrow morning okay?... Okay, thanks."

"... The current situation? No, actually it's okay, I just feel a bit nervous, maybe I'm tired."

"Okay, do you want me to breathe while listening to the sound of that timer? But I feel a bit... a bit too slow, that's not my breathing rhythm."

"Okay, I'll try my best, inhale... exhale..."

In the increasingly long exhalation sound, Steve felt sleepiness gradually spread, but that sense of tension made him never dare to fall asleep, because he didn't know what he would dream about. Just like this, a few minutes later, he hung up the phone, but was still awake, just feeling a splitting headache.

He stayed awake like this until morning. When he was about to go to the psychological clinic, he paced in front of the door with some hesitation, even wanting to take out his phone to tell Schiller he wasn't going, but ultimately he still stepped out of the door and then got into the car.

Arriving at the psychological clinic located in Hell's Kitchen, he saw Schiller in a suit sitting behind the office desk. For some reason, he didn't want to get close. The person in front of him made him feel very unfamiliar.

Schiller's fingers moved, Steve turned his head instantly, and when Schiller stood up, Steve retreated a step quickly. He stiffened for a moment, turned around to close the door, pretending he retreated just to close the door.

Finally, he still walked to the table and shook hands with Schiller. When the two sat down again, Schiller introduced himself: "I think you should already know, I am Schiller's other personality, so I haven't participated in the diagnosis and treatment of you two, but I have already finished reading all the medical records he left behind..."

"Are you also a psychologist?" Steve asked him: "Can't you let Dr. Schiller come out?"

"My experience is much richer than his. Among all the cases I have encountered, you belong to the mild category, so don't feel nervous, it will ease soon."

Saying this, Schiller took down a medical record from the bookshelf on the side, flipped through it while saying: "You have some post-traumatic stress disorder from the war, but it's not serious. In a previous diagnosis record, it shows that you have almost recovered."

"Your current performance might be acute anxiety disorder caused by being stimulated by something, which is a sudden panic state. Are you feeling afraid of something?"

"No, none." Steve denied. Schiller didn't continue to ask, but looked into his eyes and asked: "What aspect have you been thinking about more recently? The past? Or the future?"

"The past, I like to reminisce about the past." Steve answered very quickly, but Schiller kept staring into his eyes. Steve started breathing rapidly again. He said: "Alright, actually it's the future, but I don't know what I'm worried about."

"This is also a very typical performance. I'll say it again, you don't need to feel nervous about this. I know the era you lived in, psychology and psychiatry weren't very popular, you might not have been exposed to knowledge in this area, so you feel your performance is abnormal."

"But in reality, anxiety and anxiety disorder are an extremely common state. Among the people you know, I, Stark, Blade, and S. H. I. E. L. D. agent Hill, all suffer from anxiety disorder. 80% of the S. H. I. E. L. D. agents I have seen have had a medical history."

Steve opened his mouth. This was a bit hard for him to imagine. Schiller continued: "In the era you lived in, it wasn't that people didn't suffer from this disease, it was just because it wasn't diagnosed. Even if someone noticed all this, they were ashamed to speak out."

"Alright, your attack state is a bit sudden, and breathing adjustment methods and mild hypnosis don't have any effect, so you might need medication."

"Do you have any history of allergies? Or are there any important events coming up where you can't use tranquilizers?"

"No, I..." Steve pressed his eyes with his fingers and said: "I don't want to take medicine, I feel, it's possible..."

"Alright, I know people taking medicine for the first time will have a very obvious resistance to medicine. My principle is, if you feel very painful yourself, then I will prescribe medicine for you. If you feel it's not needed, then adjust for a period of time yourself."

Steve shook his head, but didn't say anything. When that not-so-obvious painful emotion appeared on his handsome face, it made him look like a classical statue, with a melancholy emotion unique to the Romantic period.

"Alright, we can chat, this will help you relax."

As the sun outside the window gradually rose, by the time Steve came out of the clinic, it was already noon. He originally wanted to eat something casually, but found that he didn't bring his wallet or his phone, so he could only walk back to the base.

Just as he went back, Peter walked up excitedly and said: "Captain! Big discovery!"

Steve cheered up. Being exposed to the sun on the road made him feel he was much better. He asked Peter: "What big discovery?"

"Do you remember the new monitoring system I mentioned to you before? We found a car with extremely high suspicion."

Steve immediately walked over quickly. He looked at the screen and asked: "Which one? Can it be tracked?"

"Here, it hasn't appeared again since it drove out of New York State last night, but we found the same location it had passed through twice. That is a park telephone booth."

Steve speculated: "That might be the way it contacts its employer. I have seen this kind of case many times. They use street telephone booths to contact."

"Are we going to install monitoring? If he calls again, I should be able to listen to the content of their communication."

"No, they rarely use a telephone booth repeatedly many times. Twice is already the limit. Let's go there now and see if we can find clues from the telephone booth he used."

The two immediately drove to the location Peter found. When they arrived, there was no one there, only three telephone booths placed side by side. Steve asked Peter: "Can you find telephone records from them?"

"I can try." Peter walked back, returned to the car, took down his toolbox, and then started to study it intently. Just at this time, Steve felt uncomfortable again. He tried hard to shake his head to make himself a bit more sober.

He somewhat regretted not accepting Schiller's suggestion to take some medicine, but also felt that there was simply no time for him to have a good sleep now. He felt a kind of inexplicable fear, but was unwilling to admit that this fear had anything to do with Hydra.

Just at this time, Peter said while fiddling with those connecting wires: "Seems there are some clues. Generally speaking, this kind of street telephone booth won't leave dialing records, but I should be able to... through the current triggered by the buttons... let me see..."

After another while, just when Steve felt his back was a bit stiff and wanted to find a place to lean on, Peter screamed, and then said: "Got it!"

Steve hurried over and asked: "How is it? What clues did you get?"

"Got a string of phone numbers, but not sure if it's one-time. We can try calling."

Steve didn't show any disappointed expression. He just said, "I'm afraid it's mostly one-time. Their vigilance shouldn't be that bad."

Peter wrote the phone number on a slip of paper. Steve walked into the telephone booth to dial. After a series of busy signals, Steve heard a very familiar voice. He had only heard this voice not long ago.

"Hello, hello..."

Peter saw Steve in the telephone booth freeze. Not two seconds later, he hung up the phone. Peter asked: "How is it? Did it get through?"

Steve shook his head somewhat stiffly and said: "It is indeed a one-time number, didn't get through."

Peter showed a bit of disappointed expression, but wasn't too dejected. He said: "It doesn't matter, this at least proves that the system is useful. As long as we continue to wait, we will definitely be able to find key clues."

Steve nodded. After returning to the Avengers base, he said to Peter: "You go back to class first. Your lunch break should be almost over, right?"

Peter saw Steve's state was a bit strange and wanted to stay to accompany him, but was still rejected by Steve. After Peter left, Steve quickly put on his coat, took his shield, and then came to the psychological clinic located in Hell's Kitchen.

When walking up the stairs, Steve gripped the handle of the shield tightly, as if only this could give him some sense of security. And when the door was pushed open, that figure in a dark suit was still sitting behind the office desk, looking like he had been waiting for him for a long time.

After Steve walked in, he stared at him and said: "You really are..."

"Who are you referring to?" Schiller interrupted his conclusion.

"You, Schiller Rodriguez."

"But I am not him, remember? I am his other personality."

"You are Hydra, or, at least you have a relationship with them..."

Schiller also stood up, pressed a pen on the table, and said: "You don't need to use this speculative tone. I am Hydra, and there is a codename you should be very familiar with..."

Steve stared at him tightly. Schiller lowered his head, smiled, and said: "You called me this in the morning, did you forget?"

"... 'Doctor', you are 'Doctor'."

"It's me, but not him."

"Why on earth do you want to..." Steve exhaled. He hammered the wall beside him very angrily.

"It seems that the era you lived in is indeed lacking such knowledge. I have already said, I am not him, we are two personalities."

Schiller said while bending down to open his drawer, took out a document from inside, and then handed it to Steve. Steve didn't take it, but just looked at him. Schiller pointed at the document with his finger and said: "Regarding Bucky."

Steve's Adam's apple moved. Ultimately, he still reached out and picked up the document. And after he opened the first page, it was written "Howard Stark Car Accident Investigation Report".

The further he flipped, the more solemn Steve's complexion became. In the end, he showed an expression of disbelief. Schiller sat back in the chair and said very understatedly: "I know you don't believe it, or rather you don't want to believe that your once best friend killed your other friend."

"But the fact is just so. Bucky Barnes, a member of Hydra's Winter Project, a successful Winter Soldier, used a car accident to kill Howard Stark."

"Enough!" Steve threw the document on the desktop and said: "You despicable Hydra, you want to fabricate this document to influence me, I won't let you succeed!"

"Is that so? Then let our other guest talk about his thoughts." Schiller lowered his head to look at the watch on his wrist and said: "He should be coming soon."

Just as his voice fell, Stark in his battle suit walked into the clinic's office. He had a solemn complexion, looked at Schiller, and said, "Why were you the one who answered the phone? Schiller, tell me..."

"Why was it you who answered when the assassin's contact person's phone got through??"

"Isn't this an obvious fact? You probably not only got my number, but should also have learned my codename, as well as what I have done. You are much smarter than him, so I don't need to explain it again from the beginning."

Schiller was still sitting steadily in the chair. He looked at Stark and said: "The other friend should have something to ask you, regarding your father."

Although he didn't want to have the topic shifted, Stark still couldn't help but turn his head to look at Steve who was a bit sluggish. Steve shook his head and said: "Nothing, that's just a conspiracy, it must be like this."

Stark looked at his complexion. Stark walked over, picked up the document in front of Steve, and after flipping to the first page, he put it down, and then similarly threw the document onto the desktop.

Seeing his action, Steve's body stiffened. He turned his head slowly to look at Stark and said: "This is what he fabricated, right? It's Hydra's conspiracy..."

Stark was silent for a long time. He said: "Actually, you should be clearer than me that this is true."

"If the assassin created by that so-called Winter Soldier project was aimed at killing important figures, then Howard must have borne the brunt."

Steve's Adam's apple started to tremble crazily. He shook his head and retreated two steps, saying, "No, this is not... he is not..."

Suddenly, he raised his head to look at Schiller and said: "You are intentional, intentionally exposing your own contact method, and then calling us here. You have wanted us to have a civil war from beginning to end..."

Schiller stood up again. He walked to one side of his room and patted the top of a television placed there. The two's gazes followed his action, seemingly worried that he would suddenly launch an attack, but Schiller just leaned over to the back of the television and flipped a switch.

An image suddenly appeared in front of the two. That was a person nailed to the wall, with fresh blood covering the entire wall. Steve widened his eyes and exclaimed: "Bucky! What did you do to him?!!"

"Why ask when you know the answer?" Schiller also turned his head to look at the television and said: "Clearly, I kidnapped him and used many wedges with a diameter of 6 cm to nail him to the wall."

Steve hammered hard and roared: "You lunatic!!! What on earth do you want to do?!!"

At this time, Schiller walked back to the table calmly, opened the drawer, and took out a pistol from inside.

Steve immediately picked up the shield, Stark opened the hand armor, but Schiller just lowered his head. With a "click" sound, the magazine was ejected. Schiller took a bullet from the side, put it into the magazine, and then pushed it in.

Next, he placed the gun flat on the desktop and pushed it forward gently. The gun rotated and slid to Steve's front. Schiller raised his head, looked into his eyes, and said: "Take it, and then shoot me, eliminate the Hydra you hate the most."

His attitude was very provocative, seemingly betting that Steve wouldn't dare to do so. Steve was enraged by him. He picked up the gun, loaded it, pointed it at Schiller's brow, and said: "Do you think I will let you go?!!"

"I know you won't, because I am a Hydra, but what about Schiller? Isn't he your friend?"

"He is a doctor, and also a good person. He saved many people, perhaps including you, and many other superheroes."

"As for me, I am just a product of Hydra's brainwashing, just a tool without feelings. This is not Schiller's original intention, just an accident."

Schiller walked out from behind the table. Steve kept pointing the gun at him. Schiller walked to Steve's front, until the muzzle was directly pressed against his forehead.

Schiller looked at Steve's eyes and asked: "If you want to shoot and kill me, then why can't Stark kill your best friend Bucky?"

Steve's arm started to tremble uncontrollably. Stark walked up and said: "Enough, Schiller, don't be like this, I feel there might be some misunderstanding here..."

Steve's breathing became more and more rapid. Crossing Schiller's figure, he saw that what was displayed on the screen wasn't a picture, but real-time footage. Bucky was no longer that kind of cold expression; his face was full of pain.

Steve's finger pressed slightly downward. The loose part of the trigger had already been pulled to the bottom by him. If he continued to press, the bullet would fly out immediately, but Schiller didn't have any intention to avoid it at all. He still let the muzzle press against his forehead, and then looked at Steve with his eyes.

"Treading the Stars"

A few seconds later, Steve's arm was lowered. His little finger and ring finger gripped the handle of the gun tightly, but the finger pulling the trigger had already loosened. He curled up somewhat painfully, shaking his head non-stop, seemingly getting rid of some hallucinations.

Stark didn't watch anymore. He walked forward, wanting to help Steve up, but the moment he touched his arm, he was shaken off. Steve's strength was incredibly great. Iron Man wearing the armor was shaken back two steps by him.

Steve straightened his body somewhat arduously. He looked at Schiller and asked: "What on earth do you want, for you to be willing to let Bucky go?"

"Both I and the Winter Soldier are products of Hydra's brainwashing. We are nothing more than guns used for killing."

"If you kill me, it means you yourself denied the set of rhetoric you used to defend Bucky, because the Dr. Schiller you know is also innocent, but you killed him."

"Then it proves that Stark can also kill Bucky like you to avenge his father, and even anyone can do this. This is justice."

"Steve, you didn't pull the trigger, not because you sympathize with the innocent Dr. Schiller inside me, but because you are afraid. If you took action, Stark might also take action against Bucky, and there will be righteous people who will kill him."

"Just now you wanted to pull the trigger, right? At that moment, did you think about this problem?" Schiller looked at Steve's eyes and asked.

"Bucky is your friend, isn't Schiller?"

"Two people in the same situation, why is your reaction completely different?"

"Is it really because your relationship with Bucky is better?"

"Is what you care about really Bucky? Or the era he represents?"

"That era that carried all your past and memories, all the glory and honor... the war era?"

Steve stood in place, holding the gun with both hands, just not raising it. He listened to all of Schiller's questions in silence. In his red-rimmed eyes, his azure eyes appeared even bluer. His voice was a bit trembling.

"You are right, I have always been a person living in the past. The war didn't bring me any benefits, only left me with all kinds of nightmares, but if I were to choose again, I would still choose the past..."

He turned his head to look at Stark on the side and said: "Bucky, Howard, Schiller are all my friends. You might feel that I have no choice."

"Either for Bucky, let you, this despicable Hydra, go, or kill you, kill Schiller, kill Bucky..."

Steve took a deep breath. He straightened his spine, just like he had done countless times before.

"But I still have one last choice, a choice that people like you will never understand."

He looked at Stark and said word by word: "Tony, I know you have the ability to do it, save Bucky, save Dr. Schiller..."

"And I, will pay the price for all of this."

Stark suddenly had a bad premonition. Just at this moment, Steve raised the gun without hesitation and pointed it at his own temple.

With a "bang", the gun fired.

The gunshot was very loud, but the bullet slowly dispersed into a wisp of gray mist, and then drifted back into Schiller's body. Schiller looked at Stark and said: "My symbiote tells me, without a doubt, he just pulled the trigger."

Stark supported the edge of the table with his hand, as if he had lost his strength, and tilted down. Steve swayed a few times and staggered against the wall.

The room quieted down, until the light climbed onto the diamond pattern on the floor. It seemed like a long time had passed before Iron Man straightened his body again, and Steve also stood straight with one hand supporting the wall.

That kind of confused and fearful expression disappeared from Steve's face. The perseverance revealed in his eyes was no longer what some identity required him to show.

Just at this moment, the two looked at each other and saw the same emotion in each other's eyes.

Iron Man never retreats, because he is the last iron barrier in front of everyone, but Stark's emotions are more sensitive than ordinary people; he will doubt, be confused, and be sad.

But Iron Man, who was only one step away from becoming an eternal god, gave up the infinite divine power and the dazzling scenery above the universe. He chose a mortal body because he felt that humans are greater than gods.

Captain America cannot be fragile, because he is the banner that inspired people in that special era, but Steve's heart is no different from ordinary people; he will be tired, painful, and retreat.

But Captain America, who is like a god, is even greater precisely because of the fragility possessed by ordinary people. Steve, with a mortal body, became a person greater than a god.

When they suddenly saw the other's fragility in this way, they also simultaneously experienced the greatness the other pursued. Then no one would be able to understand the other better than them, and be able to feel more that the other me in this world is always my opponent who is both approachable and hateful.

The two of them exhaled at the same time and said nothing.

A few seconds later, they turned their heads to look at Schiller together. And at this time, Schiller shed the alarming dangerous temperament from just now. He suddenly stood blankly for a few seconds, and then his eyes regained their luster.

"Ha... a perfect vacation is enough to make up for the mental trauma caused by my overtime before." Schiller sighed. He raised his head and saw Stark and Steve who were staring at him.

He lowered his head to look at his watch and said somewhat puzzled: "Why are you here? It shouldn't be the appointment time now, right?"

Ten minutes later, at the entrance of Midtown High School, Peter and Gwen were squeezed at the entrance of the pancake shop. He finished paying, took the bag handed over by the clerk, turned his head, and froze.

Gwen walked over from the other side, patted his shoulder, and said: "What's wrong? What did you see?"

Peter turned his head back, stared at the open space in front of him, and said puzzledly: "Did I just have a hallucination?"

"How come I saw Iron Man and Captain America chasing after a wisp of mist???"

On the New York skyline, Schiller, who had turned into a wisp of gray mist and was fleeing for his life, heard the voice of another self ring in his heart.

"Congratulations on returning from vacation. I have a piece of bad news, another piece of bad news, a worse piece of news, another worse piece of news, and the last worse piece of news to tell you."

"First, I just helped you piss off Iron Man and Captain America at the same time, the kind that gets really angry. You might be chased by them around the Earth... or the solar system."

"Second, I previously helped you real-name assassinate many Hydras disguised as key personnel. Now Hydra headquarters is going crazy wanting to kill you."

"Then, I intentionally used the performance of a mental patient to arouse Stark's interest. Now both he and Jarvis can be called experts in psychological theory. In the future, your consultation fees will definitely be very hot to handle."

"And, the matter of you bypassing the Sorcerer Supreme and selling your soul to Mephisto has been exposed. I didn't do it on purpose."

"Finally, I got the Winter Soldier out of S. H. I. E. L. D.'s secret base. The process in between was slightly violent, so the base was severely damaged, and that base was something Nick spent a lot of money to get. I didn't do it on purpose either."

"I'm done, no need to thank me..."

"Who told you not to watch my umbrella well?"

------------------Side Note------------------

Schiller is really sick.