American Comics: Opening Guidance Batman

Chapter 384 Schiller Is Sick (Part 1)

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On the terrace on the second floor of the hotel, where the light was dim, a tall man in a suit took out a cigarette from his pocket. He leaned on the railing and made a relaxed posture, but squeezed the cigarette tightly, and then leaned slightly. He turned his head and looked at the flickering windows on the side of the hotel.

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The scene in one of the windows caught his attention. He finished smoking the cigarette in his hand, instead of throwing the cigarette **** on the ground, he stuck his fingernail in the center of the cigarette **** and tore the unfinished part. , lit with a lighter.

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When the flames were about to burn his fingertips, he threw the cluster of flaming cigarette butts to the ground, and stepped on it with his toes to make sure that no fingerprints would be left.

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He walked into the hotel at a steady pace, greeted the waiter who came up, then walked into the elevator and tidied up his suit.

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With a "ding" sound, the elevator door opened, and he walked out. His shoes stepped on the carpet on the guest room floor, making a dull sound. He walked through the somewhat dim hotel corridor and came to the door of room 3103.

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"Tuk", "Tuk", "Tuk", he knocked on the door a few times, but there was no response from the room. The man took out a note from the pocket of his suit and stuffed it under the crack of the door. After a while, the door opened. The lock rang softly, he walked in, and saw an old man with a serious expression.

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"Are you the contact person sent by the doctor?" The old man looked him up and down and said, "It looks like the guy Pierce's subordinates will look for... Come in."

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He turned around and wanted to walk into the room, but as soon as he took two steps, he felt that something was holding him back. The old man who had been in the sea of ​​spy for half his life immediately realized that it was a A pistol with a silencer.

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He slowly raised his hands and said calmly, "Who are you? Who are you working for? S.H.I.E.L.D. or KGB?"

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"I work for a doctor."

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"boom!"

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Seeing the figure of the old man slowly falling down, Grant removed the magazine of the pistol, put the gun away, put on gloves, groped on the old man's body, and handed the He took the note back, then turned and left as if nothing had happened.

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Walking out of the hotel door, it was dark in New York, he went to a park phone booth to dial the phone, and then said to the other end: "How are you doing? Let's meet, in the cafe west of Hell's Kitchen. "

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A slightly indifferent voice came from the opposite side, "Tomorrow at 3 o'clock in the afternoon..."

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The next morning, in the dining hall of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Alliance, Schiller and Stark were having breakfast face to face, and Stark complained while cutting the sausages on the plate: "I don't know what happened recently, no The young councilor was assassinated, even if you want to take revenge at this time, you have to consider the general environment, right?"

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Schiller didn't speak, just focused on using the knife and fork to deal with the food on the plate. Stark glanced at his movements and said, "What happened recently?"

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"What's the matter?" Schiller asked him instead of raising his head.

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"I think you've become a little weird." Stark pulled the corner of his mouth down and said, "It's like a different person."

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Schiller put half a small tomato into his mouth, then looked up at Stark and asked him, "Where did you see it?"

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Stark opened his mouth, as if there were too many things to say. He didn't know where to start. He lowered his head and cut a piece of beef, and said as he ate, "Let's talk about clothes first. You usually like to wear a doctor's uniform. Just like shirts or sweaters, I don't see you wearing a suit very often."

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Stark looked up again at Schiller, who was sitting across from him in a dark suit and a plaid tie, and continued: "Although Manhattan, especially around Wall Street, has a lot of people I like to wear suits all year round, but why has your dressing style suddenly changed so much?"

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"What else?" Schiller asked while eating.

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Stark stared at his plate and said, "I just wanted to ask, why do you move the fried egg from left to right, and then from right to left, is this a ritual?"

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"Because the vegetables should be placed on the left at first."

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"so what?"

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"So the fried egg can only be moved to the right."

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Stark took a deep breath and said: "If you have any dissatisfaction with me, you can say it directly. My temper has improved a lot recently, and I can even endure Steve dangling in front of my eyes... "

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"It's nothing, it's just my anxiety disorder." Schiller still didn't look up, and was very focused on eating, Stark snorted and said, "You can't fool me, I also have anxiety disorder, although it's been a long time since I've done it, but I know what it's like to be sick."

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"Panic, hyperventilation, limb stiffness, at the worst of the episode, I had to lean against a wall, with one hand on the other to continue the experiment, I remember you wrote in my medical record earlier Don't you remember your medical history?"

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Schiller suddenly stopped what he was doing, then looked at Stark and said, "The answer is full marks, but it's useless."

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After speaking, he put down the knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and when he was about to stand up, Stark stopped him: "You just left?? We haven't finished talking yet! What the **** are you doing? what's going on?"

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"Is this really an anxiety disorder? Why do I feel that something is not right?" Stark looked at the tableware left by Schiller, where the rest of the food was neatly arranged.

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Schiller stepped out of the chair, looked back at Stark and said, "It's definitely an anxiety disorder, but it's just a complication. You can also consider it as a side effect of my allergy to broccoli."

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Saying that, he leaned over to straighten the slightly crooked fork, and then turned and left neatly. Stark stared at Schiller's leaving back, and he muttered to himself, "What the **** is wrong with him? ?"

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At this time, another figure came over, and when the waiter removed Schiller's plate, Steve sat across from Stark and said, "Do you mind if I eat here? Just in time we can discuss the Avengers. next job."

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Stark turned his head to the side unnaturally, but he didn't object. Steve leaned his upper body out of the seat and glanced back, just in time to see Schiller pushing the revolving door away, and he asked, "Do you have any Don't you think he's been weird recently, as if he's changed?"

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"I found out earlier than you did. As early as when he said he was going to move back to the small clinic in Hell's Kitchen, I felt something was wrong."

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Steve frowned while eating, and said, "Remember our last speculation? Hydra may be affecting all of our emotions. Do you think he will..."

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"It's unlikely." Stark pricked a potato with a fork and put it in his mouth, then said, "He's a psychiatrist, and he can read minds, but he's not so easily influenced."

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"Have you forgotten?" Steve leaned forward, lowered his voice, and said, "He came into contact with the black-robed hydra in the nursing home. Those people are very good at brainwashing. Schiller spent some time with them, We'd better look into this."

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"How are you going to investigate? Are you going to go to him directly?" Stark turned his head, put down his fork, and said, "If he's not brainwashed, he'll just treat us as a lunatic. If he's brainwashed, you think he Will you admit it?"

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"We have to find a professional." Steve said firmly, Stark raised his eyebrows and looked at him. The two looked at each other and thought of the same person.

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In the afternoon, the light became stronger and stronger. The snow that covered the street last night began to melt, and the ground was a little muddy. When Schiller entered the cafe, he stomped his foot on the threshold to shake off the snow that stuck to the side of his shoes.

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Grant saw him, but his expression didn't change. He just lowered his head to drink coffee. After Schiller walked over, he sat across from him, took the coffee from the waiter, and scooped the surface latte with a spoon. He said, "This is How many are there?"

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"The sixth." Grant glanced aside, Schiller saw his movements, and he said, "I have to say, even in S.H.I.E.L.D., you are considered a highly vigilant agent."

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Grant gave a low sneer through his nose and said, "So what? Didn't it fall into your hands?"

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"Don't worry, I haven't finished the second half of the sentence. Your current vigilance is in stark contrast to your previous innocence. How can you think that you will really get out of this business one day?"

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Grant pursed his lips and said with a self-deprecating smile, "Indeed, how could I expect a despicable and cunning Hydra to keep his promise?"

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Schiller took a sip of his coffee cup and said, "Do you think I want to choose you? If someone else is available, I don't like to force an ordinary person to be a killer."

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Ordinary people? Grant almost felt absurd~www.NovelMTL.com~ It was the first time he had heard someone call him a normal person, and even Garrett often praised him for his talent in this regard.

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In the career path of agents and killers, Grant's resume can be regarded as very good. He entered the industry very early. Since he was adopted by Garrett, he has been receiving professional agent training day after day. In addition, Garrett also taught him a lot of killing techniques, and the words and deeds of a high-ranking agent made his start in the industry more than the end of many people.

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If the situation of S.H.I.E.L.D. continues to develop according to the previous situation, then he is likely to take over the position of the leader of Hydra in S.H.I.E.L.D. at the age of Pierce.

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When talking about this topic, Schiller seemed to have a little interest, and he continued: "It may sound absurd to you, but many murderers are born, or some born killers have unmatched abilities in this regard. talent."

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"Like?" Grant asked, looking at him.

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"Among the cases of psychopathic antisocial personality disorder, there is a very small possibility of natural born killers. They are cold-blooded, irritable, and good at controlling others. A recent case I encountered was a teenager much younger than you."

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"Who is that?"

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"You don't know him, but I am quite familiar with him. His name is Oswald Cobblet."

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"A little penguin with a sharp beak."

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