Chapter 398

In the afternoon, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had Potions class together; when Professor Shiler walked into the classroom, Peter felt no surprise at all—after all, according to Professor Charles, this was Shiler's dream, so his presence was perfectly normal.

Peter greeted Shiler casually, then hurried to his seat and immediately began fiddling with the pile of potion ingredients.

He rubbed his hands but didn't touch anything yet; instead, he silently recited the lab regulations in his mind, turning over every inch of the table without finding a protective suit or gloves.

Only after Shiler finished his opening remarks and taught the theoretical knowledge did Peter raise his hand and ask, "Professor, are we just starting now? Don't we need to go over the safety rules?"

Then he turned his body around on the stool and said, "Aren't we going to the prep room? Where do we change into protective gear?"

Shiler shook his head and said, "Peter, this is magic…"

"But even magic needs safety! If improper mixing causes an explosion, where are the evacuation routes?"

Shiler sighed helplessly. "In a sense, you're right—but I'm here, and I'll be responsible for your safety."

"Really?" Peter blinked. "Is magic really that miraculous?"

Before Shiler could answer, Peter began his fluid operations.

The professor's first lesson was simple: sorting herbs, chopping them, handling snails, learning to control the cauldron's temperature and stirring.

But clearly, Peter—who had spent years in chemistry and biology labs—had no intention of stopping there; first, he began dissecting the snail.

When Peter performed experiments, he always radiated a peculiar aura that made others hesitant to approach, especially when he followed standard dissection procedures on a snail.

After finally understanding the snail's anatomy, while sorting and chopping herbs, he began tinkering with the brass balance scale, thoroughly questioning its precision.

As he poured the mixture into the cauldron and stirred, he fired off a barrage of questions: the cauldron's corrosion resistance, the accuracy of the extraction tools, the seal integrity of the storage containers, and more.

What Peter found most baffling, however, was the final step: waving the wand over the potion.

Peter looked at his wand and said, "Can I interpret this as a prayer ritual? Wave this little stick, and chemical reactions just happen?"

Shiler, standing beside his table, replied, "Peter, don't you have any magical fantasies? Haven't you ever thought, while doing experiments, that you could skip tedious steps and achieve success directly?"

Peter shook his head. "In every chemistry or biology experiment, every step has its purpose. If the scientists who invented formulas and theorems had skipped steps because they were tedious, modern science wouldn't exist."

"For some reason, since childhood, I've always been fascinated by steps others find complex and annoying," Peter smiled. "I don't find them dull—I find them suspicious, almost like magical rituals."

"But that's also given me a new idea: if the magical world has courses similar to chemical experiments, could magic itself be a special catalyst? Could it trigger unique reactions with certain materials, leading to new medicines?"

Peter was lost in his own thoughts. "Could magical energy be the long-hypothesized aether—the substance capable of reacting with any molecule?"

"If so, applying it to medical drug development might cure diseases currently beyond human medicine's reach…"

Just as Peter's inspiration surged, a pop-up window suddenly appeared in his vision: "Minor's daily playtime has ended. Thank you for trying."

Instantly, a blinding white light engulfed Peter's vision; when he opened his eyes again, he was back in the corridor of the Mind Palace.

Strange, who had been touring the school and imagining its structure; Stark, deeply absorbed in learning and practicing spells; and Steve, having a blast during flying class—all were abruptly ejected too.

The group was disoriented when ejected; Stark rubbed his forehead. "What happened? System error? I saw a pop-up, then got kicked out?"

Steve recalled. "It said something like… trial time's over?"

Strange rolled his eyes. "You missed the most important line: 'To experience the full version, visit the Mind Palace lobby to purchase.'"

He shouted, "Shiler! Come out! I know you're about to pitch—you damn con artist and merchant!"

"As you wished." Shiler appeared in the center of the corridor, arms open. "How was it?"

Stark stared at Shiler's grin, eyes wide. "Wait—you locked us in here, made us search your Mind Palace for keys to get out…"

"And now you tell me the rooms where we found those keys had trial time limits? We had to pay to buy playtime just to find the key to escape??"

Stark, Strange, and Steve all glared at Shiler—this logic was absurd no matter how you looked at it—but Shiler replied with perfect confidence:

"So here's the question: who came here in the first place?"

Stark slapped his forehead. "Damn it! It's a trap! You lured us in just to sell us something!"

"Don't say that. Look at the pop-up before you: a full 3D virtual immersive cross-dimensional experience. No daytime usage—only in dreams. High realism, educational and entertaining—the perfect way to spark inspiration…"

"Payment is scientific and reasonable: supports token cards, monthly and quarterly subscriptions. Higher spending brings greater rebates. Also features a 120-level membership system: members can adjust difficulty, unlock new maps and outfits…"

"Separate cosmetic packs are available too. Right now, purchasing the Magical Academy Admission Pack includes a free map of Diagon Alley for four people—unlimited playtime."

As Shiler spoke, dense paywall pages materialized before them. Peter covered his forehead. "Oh god, I remember those damn spam emails…"

"Of course," Shiler shifted tone. "Though you rudely barged into my Mind Palace and threatened to cure me, I'm a generous man. If you refuse to spend here, I offer another option."

"Buy one Dream Coin each, and you're free to leave. I'll forget you chased me half of New York and broke into my Mind Palace."

"We'll take that," Steve said without hesitation. "How much is one Dream Coin?"

"One million U. . dollars—but other payment methods are accepted, such as…" Shiler glanced at Strange. "Magical energy."

"Also, free for those under 20 or over 80—but minors are limited to one hour daily. To remove the limit, you must open an account under a parent's identity, which still requires purchasing playtime…"

"I'll pay. Let's go! I won't let this con artist win!" Stark turned to leave.

Shiler snapped his fingers; coins landed on their heads. They turned to walk away.

Then Shiler's devilish whisper echoed in their ears: "Forgot to mention—the new player gift pack also costs one Dream Coin, including entry kits for the Magical Academy, the Brick World, and the Game World."

"The Magical Academy entry kit includes a brand-new house badge, a custom scarf, a brand-new wand, and a Diagon Alley map for one person."

My Healing Game

The group froze.

"Also, first-time deposit bonuses: deposit one Dream Coin to unlock the Free Pass—unrestricted travel between playable worlds. Deposit six Dream Coins to unlock the Premium Pass—complete a series of pass missions to earn exclusive seasonal skins and rewards…"

Peter turned to Stark and whispered, "Mr. Stark, since we're spending a million anyway, buying the bundle means we can travel freely, keep playing the game we just had, and get a ton of stuff…"

"Can't you see? Peter, this is a consumption trap!"

"I'm depositing," Strange turned sharply. "Magical energy works, right? I'm depositing six Dream Coins—give me the Diagon Alley map. There's a wand shop there…"

Stark stared at him. "You traitor!"

"Peter's right. Same price, extra gifts. Only an idiot buys just a ticket. Pay up!"

Stark sighed. He turned away—then met Peter's hopeful gaze. He raised his hands. "Fine, fine, you idiot kid—I'll pay for you, alright?"

Peter cheered and ran to Shiler to pay. Stark shook his head, heading for the exit—when Shiler called out: "Peter, remember the story I told you about Cybertron?"

"I remember. When I was in the clinic, you told me about a planet full of robots who came to Earth searching for something called the Spark, and could turn into cars. Kind of cool."

"Yes. A magnificent planet of mechanical life—nobody knows how they evolved or what the Sparks truly are. Of course, it doesn't compare to the Death Star or cloning tech—just sounds like high-tech nonsense, right?"

Stark's ears twitched sharply.

Then he heard Shiler add: "But that's not all. War simulation games are fun too, right? Have you heard the legend about Nazis turning into zombies, and a contaminated German headquarters…"

Steve's ears twitched too. Seconds later, they locked eyes and sighed deeply.

Charles, watching silently, smiled helplessly—then heard Shiler say: "Also, we offer a free training range with diverse ecosystems and enemies—ideal not just for ordinary humans, but for superhumans with abilities who fear causing real-world damage."

Thus ended the dream adventure—with the expected outcome: everyone paid.

The Avengers gained new inspiration and experience; Shiler made a fortune; humanity may have taken another step along an unknown path.

The next morning, Stark woke up, puzzled. "Wait… why did we go to see Shiler again? Right! Hydra! Where's that Hydra personality???"

That Hydra personality was currently being chased by a white-clad figure, running lap 1300-something in the Mind Palace.