Chapter 60: Chapter Fifty-Nine: First Encounter with Freeze Man

The new principal, Xie Dun, was a man of considerable ability and experience, with wide connections; his only problem was that his luck was truly terrible.

No, perhaps it was even worse than that.

His friends had nominated six professors for him, and among them happened to be Victor Fries, one of Gotham’s future villains—the Freeze Man.

After reviewing their files, Xie Dun planned to hire three of them, and among those three was precisely Victor Fries, the Freeze Man.

After the invitation letters were sent out, only one professor accepted Gotham University’s offer—and that was precisely Victor Fries, the Freeze Man.

Gotham University was truly cursed: it had just subdued a few demons and captured a few devils, and now that Scarecrow Jonathan had left, here came Freeze Man Victor.

And Victor seemed to desperately need this job: before Shi Ler and Bruce could even communicate to stop Xie Dun’s hiring, the invitation letter had been sent out at noon the day before, and by the afternoon of the next day, Victor had already arrived at Gotham University—as if he’d starve to death if he didn’t take this position.

Fortunately, like the Scarecrow, the current Victor was merely an ordinary scholar and professor.

Shi Ler knew that even the future Freeze Man was among the more moderate of Gotham’s villains; he usually preferred to freeze Batman and then discuss philosophy and art with him. Most of his obsession and madness stemmed from love for his wife, not from any desire to oppose Batman or Gotham itself.

The Victor Shi Ler met resembled himself: both were archetypal scholars. Victor stood tall, wore glasses, and kept his suit collar and cuffs meticulously neat; though his expression was weary, he still looked like a learned professor.

Each professor had his own private office, but there was also a shared office for group activities and conversations. After Jonathan left, his spot in the shared office became vacant; now that Victor had arrived, he took Jonathan’s former seat—right beside Shi Ler.

During their first conversation, Shi Ler noticed Victor’s gaze kept drifting absentmindedly to the ring on Shi Ler’s ring finger.

After a while, he finally steered the topic toward family and asked: “You seem to be married—is your wife also in Gotham?”

In Western countries, asking about someone’s marital status on first meeting was considered impolite; some might find it an invasion of privacy.

It was clear Victor’s mental state was poor—he seemed anxious and desperately sought validation.

Shi Ler froze at the question, unsure how to answer; he couldn’t tell the man he had a symbiote that watched too many TV shows.

Shi Ler’s silence was interpreted by Victor as another meaning.

People are like that: when insecure and overwhelmed with anxiety, they unconsciously seek out those like themselves, searching for comfort in shared suffering.

Victor thought of Shi Ler’s astonishing resume and wondered: perhaps among those thrilling detective stories, there was an even more tragic love story than his own.

With this sense of “fellow sufferers in the same world,” Victor and Shi Ler quickly grew close.

In later conversations, Shi Ler found they shared many common interests: Victor loved discussing ancient philosophy, modern art, and religious art, and Shi Ler equally loved theology and philosophy—they had endless topics, even spending entire afternoons chatting when there were no classes.

Shi Ler never expected that the first true friend he’d find after his transmigration would be the villain—Freeze Man.

But I must say, this Freeze Man, who hadn’t yet turned villain, possessed real charisma: always refined and gentle, highly empathetic, articulate and logical, offering unique insights when discussing issues; talking with him reminded Shi Ler of debates with experts from his past life, sparking endless intellectual flashes.

This mild-mannered villain left an excellent impression—something everyone in the office agreed on.

As Shi Ler grew closer to Victor, he learned his current situation: Victor had already used cryogenic technology to preserve his wife, but the technique required enormous funds and an extremely demanding environment.

The research institute that had originally funded him could no longer afford to provide space due to insufficient funding, so Victor had rushed to Gotham University—not only because the salary was decent, but because the Wayne family had funded a cryogenic laboratory here, where he could ensure his wife remained frozen, her condition stabilized.

If viewed through the lens of Freeze Man’s later story, his actions might seem grotesque, but most of his colleagues understood him; in this era, many had proposed freezing patients with incurable diseases until medical science advanced enough to cure them.

Victor was merely one of the pioneers.

Shi Ler believed that even if Victor Fries had never suffered the lab accident that turned him into the future Freeze Man, he was still a highly reliable ally.

Compared to the still-undeveloped young Batman, the Freeze Man—with his world-leading cryogenic technology and vast knowledge—appeared far more dependable.

To permanently resolve the Freeze Man’s problem, one must first cure his wife’s degenerative disease.

Shi Ler accompanied Victor to visit the cryogenic chamber preserving his wife: Mrs. Fries was not beautiful—just an ordinary white woman—but Victor’s gaze upon her was always filled with love.

Shi Ler asked the symbiote in his mind: “Is there a way?”

The symbiote replied: “Neural atrophy. Very complicated.”

Victor stared at the cryogenic chamber and said: “My wife’s neurodegenerative disease is nearly incurable. Her neurons die too quickly—I only managed to freeze her in time; I can’t reverse it. Even if I could barely slow the cell death, immune inflammation would still damage her brain…”

Victor knelt down. Anyone could hear the despair in his voice—he likely knew himself that freezing his wife and waiting for a solution that might never come was merely self-deception.

Shi Ler frowned in thought: Victor was indeed one of Gotham’s most notorious villains and a world-class cryogenic scientist, but professional matters required professional hands—like a far more top-tier neurosurgeon.

The next day, Shi Ler returned to Marvel’s New York.

When Strange met Shi Ler at his home, he tossed his coat onto the nearby Xuanguan and said: “Good heavens, you just stroll into my house like this?”

“I haven’t even settled accounts with you—you sold my information to some agency.”

“They asked me. I had no choice.”

After staring at Shi Ler for a while, Strange gave in: “Fine, but don’t expect me to act like a trained agent and say nothing—and you threatened me first.”

“Forget that. I have a way to make money—want to hear it?”

Strange asked skeptically: “A way to make money? If such a thing existed, why would you come to me? I heard you charge Stark a million dollars an hour—and he actually agreed!”

“When I heard that, I wanted to go back to college and study psychology!”

“Now, there’s a lady suffering from a severe neurodegenerative disease, and her husband possesses a possibly unique cryogenic patent technology—you know, the kind that earns you a lifetime’s income just from royalties.”

“If you can cure this woman, we can share the patent.”

Strange pursed his lips and sighed: “Let me say it again—I’m a doctor, not God.”

“You think you can’t cure this disease?”

“But first, shouldn’t you let me meet the patient, not just you, the middleman?”

“For certain reasons, you won’t be able to meet her—but I have all her medical records.”

Saying this, Shi Ler conjured a pile of papers out of thin air. Strange took them, skimmed a few pages, then shook his head: “Impossible. Can’t be saved. Give up.”

Shi Ler opened his mouth to speak, but Strange cut him off: “This isn’t a neuroscientific problem anymore. If you want her fully restored, the difficulty is roughly equivalent to turning a cooked bacon strip back into a live pig.”

He studied Shi Ler from head to toe, then fixed his gaze on the ring on his ring finger. Strange said: “…Alright, my phrasing was too absolute. Maybe you could find someone else—even though I don’t believe there’s a better neurosurgeon in the world than me.”

“What if you team up with Stark?”

Strange was about to refuse, but after thinking, he said: “Stark might have some mechanical expertise, but adapting his tech for neurosurgery would require massive research and modification. If you can convince him to invest that much effort, I might give it a try—but you’d better prepare a fee that satisfies me.”

Before Strange finished speaking, Shi Ler had already vanished. Remembering the ring on Shi Ler’s finger and his demeanor, Strange clearly misunderstood something. He sighed and muttered: “Ha. Love… so stupid.”

Shi Ler suddenly appeared behind Stark, startling him. Stark shouted: “I know you’ve got some magic trick! But that’s no excuse for not using the elevator when climbing thirty floors! Don’t you fear getting stuck inside a wall?”

Shi Ler said: “What nonsense are you talking about? How could teleportation get stuck in a wall? That’s absurd.”

“I hope I never get a repairman’s call telling me there’s a human-shaped hole in a wall of Stark Tower.”

“Enough. I’m here for a serious matter.”

Shi Ler pulled out the pile of documents again.

After ten minutes, Stark said: “Actually, you came to the right person—I’ve studied neurology.”

He walked around the desk, pen in hand, saying: “You know, last time I got a huge amount of bio-mechanical data from Obadiah’s database—including some tech on neural adaptation for mechanical control.”

“These techniques are dangerous, but if successful, they’d allow the human body to control armor with unprecedented precision.”

“If machinery could receive commands directly from the neural center, it would eliminate all secondary processing delays, making every suit truly an extension of the body.”

“So you can do it?”

“No, not yet. Obadiah’s research hit a bottleneck—there’s one critical technological barrier we haven’t figured out yet.”