Chapter 724: A New Universe, A New Misfortune (Part 2)

Shi Ler, just waking up, felt profound exhaustion; he had exerted so much effort, yet still received no compensation, leaving him deeply dissatisfied.

When Shi Ler was unhappy, he would try to make others unhappy—so long as others were unhappy, he felt much better.

Since the universe had been reset, his contract with Death was gone, but not long ago, he had acquired a new phone—the obelisk—so Shi Ler decided to call Death again and relive their pleasant past collaboration.

But as soon as he picked up the obelisk he had obtained, Shi Ler noticed the power of Death had vanished; no matter how he activated it, the phone gave no response whatsoever.

Shi Ler sat on the edge of the bed, placed the obelisk on his nightstand, and stared at it, lost in thought.

Red Skull had once said the obelisk held the power to explain Death itself, and Shi Ler had confirmed this upon acquiring it.

Based on the plot of the TV series Agents of S. . . . . . and the fact that Coulson could use the Kree-made GH drug to resurrect, the obelisk was likely similar to the ancient Egyptian scales—a tool the Kree used to communicate with Death.

If so, it should function like the scales, enabling phone calls to Death; Shi Ler had never used the obelisk to call Death before, so he had never confirmed whether it worked, but the presence of Death's aura on it at the time was undeniable.

Now, that aura had vanished completely; Shi Ler did not know what Eternity had done, nor that Death's unauthorized operation had been warned against, causing all resurrection tools to lose their original function.

He had assumed Death had learned he got a new phone, feared further harassment, and smashed the line preemptively.

After all, Death had a history—the scene of the scales being shattered was still vivid in Shi Ler's mind—but this time, Death had acted ahead of schedule, destroying the phone before Shi Ler could even make the harassing call.

This theory made perfect sense; if the Five Deities were this easy to deal with, they would have collapsed long ago.

Since he couldn't make Death unhappy, he'd have to find another target; as Shi Ler pondered whom to trouble, Stark suddenly called, and Shi Ler answered:

"What? Miss Pepper? … What's wrong with Tony? Alright, I'm on my way."

He changed clothes and reached the entrance of Arkham Sanatorium when JARVIS had already arrived to pick him up.

"How's your first time driving?" Shi Ler turned to look at the robot beside him; JARVIS, attached to the machine's body, shook his head: "Sir, this isn't my first time driving."

"Of course it is—and you're driving without a license."

"No, I have a driver's license," JARVIS said, then pulled a license from his pocket. Shi Ler took it, glanced at it, raised an eyebrow—he realized it wasn't Stark's license; the name on it was genuinely JARVIS.

"Did S. . . . . . issue it to you?" Shi Ler asked, staring at the license.

"No, I passed the test myself."

Shi Ler opened his mouth, then turned to study JARVIS again; JARVIS wore a more everyday body, but even dressed like a human, he was unmistakably a machine, so Shi Ler asked:

"How's your driving instructor's mental health? Should I refer him to Arkham Sanatorium for treatment?"

"It's a new federal law: all mechanical lifeforms traveling through the solar system must obtain a driver's license. The process is similar to humans', but stricter," JARVIS replied, his tone always calm, lacking humor but indistinguishable from a human's.

"Why?" Shi Ler asked, puzzled. "I know Stark built many work robots for the solar system development project, but why do robots need driver's licenses?"

"It goes back to the solar system traffic jam three days ago…" JARVIS said, turning the steering wheel.

"Each project lead wanted their exploration and transport robots to reach destinations as fast as possible, so they all programmed the shortest routes between planets—and the result… was quite catastrophic."

"Aren't there teleportation gates?" Shi Ler asked. "I remember Earth and Mercury already had one—how did traffic jam happen?"

"Yes, but that's another accident. Every department wanted to use the teleportation gate first, convinced their experiments were most important—but the gates need cooling, so… the scene was equally catastrophic."

Shi Ler sighed helplessly; despite the solar system development project raging forward and humanity uniting on every level, minor conflicts never ceased due to the relentless pursuit of efficiency.

The car entered the underground parking garage of Stark Tower. As Shi Ler stepped inside, he saw Pepper, visibly anxious.

Before Shi Ler could ask, Pepper blurted out like a machine gun:

"Tony's anxiety has flared up again—worse than ever. He can barely eat now, his hands won't stop shaking. If it weren't urgent, I wouldn't disturb your rest…"

"Yes, I understand," Shi Ler nodded. They took the elevator to the lab door; Shi Ler looked at Pepper and said:

"I've guessed part of his condition, but explaining it is difficult. If you absolutely need to know the cause…"

"No, Doctor Shi Ler, I only care whether he's healthy," Pepper smoothed her hair, gazing at him. "You don't need to explain the reason—I just want to see the normal Tony Stark, not the one tormented by anxiety. I believe you feel the same, don't you?"

Shi Ler said nothing more, turned, and pushed open the lab door. Stark sat as usual at the workbench, fiddling with models. As Shi Ler approached, he didn't even turn his head, only said:

"You're here? Pepper called you? She always overreacts—women are like that…"

"You'd be more convincing if your right arm weren't shaking," Shi Ler said, sitting across from Stark. "Did you see something… when this universe changed?"

Stark turned his head away, as if avoiding the topic, but Shi Ler continued: "If we've reached the same level, we'll all face this problem. Perhaps my solution might give you some insight, wouldn't it?"

Stark clenched his lips, fingers spinning the model in his hand, but his eyes betrayed his distraction—he was lost in thought.

After a while, he finally spoke:

"Is everything we've experienced predetermined? Arranged by some higher being?"

"An interesting question. What do you think?"

Stark opened his mouth, then closed it. He thought for a moment, then said: "That day, I saw a… a magnificent, indescribable entity. I don't know if it was God or something else, but every universe paled beside it…"

"I saw every event across all universes tied to it. I can't describe it… but perhaps I'm the same…"

"Probably," Shi Ler said, nodding calmly. "Perhaps everything we're doing now, everything we're thinking, is arranged. A higher being has always decided these things, shaping the future of the universe."

Shi Ler spoke with utter calmness. Stark looked at him, puzzled: "Don't you find this absurd? Don't you want to resist?"

"No, because I understand no one is truly independent. As long as one has emotions, one is influenced—acting to meet others' expectations."

"For example: studying hard to satisfy parents, planning elaborate parties to please friends, changing careers to stay with a lover. All these influences combine to form a person's life."

"So whether your life is shaped by a higher being or by family, friendship, love—it doesn't really matter."

Shi Ler looked into Stark's eyes: "You think every choice you make is yours alone, but the motivations and personality behind those choices are shaped by external forces… No one is an island."

"This…" Stark wanted to argue—if you're destined to be influenced, who influences you doesn't matter; the logic felt like giving up. But upon reflection, it seemed true.

Shi Ler tapped the table:

"You think you're just yourself, but you're a reflection of countless others."

"Parents, teachers, classmates, friends—their influence becomes part of you."

"As long as you live in society, no one can be fully independent. Your personality already bears the names of everyone you know."

"If they influenced me 50%, and the higher being influenced me 99% or 100%, it makes no difference—it's never zero."

"As long as it's not zero, lowering it further is meaningless," Shi Ler said, shaking his head, unbothered.

"I just find it absurd that this being can manipulate our universe at will—it makes me feel…" Stark paused, not continuing, but Shi Ler saw the despair on his face.

After all, anyone who learns their efforts are insignificant to other beings—easily erased at will—would be crushed, especially a genius like Stark.

Ordinary people might think: I haven't done much anyway, my contribution to the world is negligible—so what if it's gone? But Stark was different; he believed he was changing the world, that he bore responsibility for it, that he had a mission to lead humanity toward a better future. Once that belief shattered, his identity teetered on collapse.

Shi Ler guided Stark with perfect calmness; his words truly comforted him. After all he'd endured, Stark was no longer the superficially tough, inwardly fragile playboy.

Seeing his expression improve, Shi Ler politely took his leave, giving him space to think alone.

But as soon as he stepped out the door, Shi Ler's calm facade cracked. He clenched his teeth and muttered:

"If only you'd given me compensation, would I be like this? You damn game designer, just wait."