Chapter 728: Eternal Misfortune (Part 2)

Dr. Shiler!

Dr. Shiler!

Are you there?!

The quiet of a New York morning was shattered by a heart-wrenching shout; outside Arkham Sanatorium, Peter held Deadpool in one hand and Pikachu in the other, shouting loudly.

Shiler, still asleep in bed, frowned, rolled over, and slowly opened his eyes, glancing at the clock—it was only 5: 0 a. . Peter's voice at this hour must be a hallucination.

Peter's absurd schedule—staying up all night and sleeping through the morning—was deeply etched into Shiler's mind, so he had no qualms dismissing the voice as a hallucination and drifted back to sleep.

But seconds later, another shout came from outside: "Dr. Shiler!

I need you urgently!

Open the door!

A big trouble is coming!

"

Shiler shot upright in bed, snatched the sleep cap off his head, and hurled it aside; with a flash of irritation, he teleported downstairs, determined to stand on the high ground of healthy habits and lecture Peter.

But as soon as he reached the ground floor, he saw Peter holding a red-and-black figure in one hand; Shiler instantly turned into a cloud of gray mist and slowly retreated several meters.

Peter saw the gray mist form into a question mark; he hung Deadpool on the gate's railing and waved at Shiler: "Hey, Doc, it's me—open up, I need you!"

*Bang! The mist turned into an arrow, pointing directly at Deadpool hanging on the railing.

"Oh, him? He's my friend—you probably don't know he's a mercenary named Deadpool..."

The mist *bang! turned into an exclamation mark; Peter opened his mouth to shout, but the mist immediately reformed into a cross.

"Uh… I can't go in? Not me? Then who? Can't Deadpool enter? Why? Oh, right—the hospital probably can't handle that smell. Okay, I'll just leave him here."

Then Peter saw the mist form an even larger cross; he frowned: "Can't even leave him here? Fine, I'll go find a nearby restaurant and get him something to eat."

When Peter returned, he expected to walk straight through the sanatorium's gate—but instead, he was met by over a dozen fully armed medical staff.

Dressed in protective suits and wielding disinfectant sprayers, Peter stepped through the door and was instantly engulfed in a mist so thick it felt like heaven—he couldn't see a step ahead; without his spider-sense, he'd have smashed straight into a tree.

At first, Peter tried shielding himself, yelling: "No! Don't spray me! I don't have that many viruses!"

But by the end, he gave up resistance; at the entrance to Arkham Sanatorium, Shiler raised a hand to stop Peter from advancing further, and internally asked the mist: "Sense it—does he still carry Deadpool's scent?"

"I'm not going near him—he looks filthy," the mist sent back a wave of revulsion; Shiler didn't press it—after all, to a symbiote, Deadpool was a lifelong enemy, a psychological trauma, permanently blacklisted by their species' genetic code.