Schiller walked over, picked up the old record player, patted it, and said, "Hmm... it might be broken. These old antiques are always a bit unreliable."
Nightcrawler couldn't see, but he was truly startled by the music. He said, "I never knew these old antiques could make such a big noise..."
Peter said, "It seems he's just like Steve, a guy who refuses to grow old."
Schiller fiercely warned his Symbiote in his mind: "If you turn the music up that loud again, you'll never get to drink!"
As a result, the Symbiote chattered excitedly in his mind, and it took Schiller a long time to understand.
The Symbiote told him that until last night, it was not yet an adult Symbiote, but only a juvenile Symbiote.
Originally, Symbiotes didn't distinguish between adult and juvenile, but this special Symbiote, specially created by the Symbiote God, was very unique; it needed energy to nourish itself and grow.
Just last night, the Symbiote discovered that it had unlocked its gene pool, which is the code etched into every Symbiote's genes. This code allows it to possess the abilities of other Symbiotes, such as splitting and reproducing, infiltrating other objects to control them, and even imitating and conjuring things out of thin air.
Schiller could clearly feel that the Symbiote's speech had become much more coherent; it was finally no longer like a broken record.
The Symbiote told him that this was because the language of the Symbiote race, which was of course the language the Symbiote God used to curse, was hidden in its genetic code, and it hadn't known it before.
Hearing this, Schiller tried to say, "nataru?"
Almost instantly, Schiller felt brainwaves filled with shock, anger, and grievance mixed together in his mind; the Symbiote seemed utterly shocked.
After the Symbiote's explanation, Schiller learned that their race's language was different from human languages and from any other language in the World.
The Symbiote race's language is a directory sequence language. Every syllable they utter is actually a directory for a large chunk of content, and the true content is etched in their gene pool, understandable only by the Symbiote race.
The content etched in the gene pool is not text that humans can understand, but a code that requires special organs to decipher. This is a very special encrypted language. Any race other than Symbiotes, although they can hear Symbiotes speaking, cannot fully understand what they are saying. This is because the content of Symbiote speech is actually the directory within their gene pool's code.
For example, the word "nataru," although it only has three syllables, when these three syllables are entered into the Symbiote's gene pool sequence, they represent brainwaves that last for almost several tens of minutes.
And the content represented by this syllable is the sum of all curse words in the Symbiote language, far dirtier than any swear word existing in any language on Earth.
The Symbiote said, "This word! Will get hit!"
Schiller thought for a moment. Clearly, useless knowledge had increased again.
Venom is either on Deadpool or in a S.H.I.E.L.D. petri dish. Other Symbiotes haven't appeared either, and even if they did, why would Schiller join them in cursing? He's not the Symbiote God.
When Steve arrived at noon, he missed mealtime. Seeing a dejected Peter, he asked him, "You still haven't finished your homework? Wasn't staying up all night yesterday enough?"
"Staying up all night, my foot," Schiller said, pointing. "You'd best ask those two controllers how they were treated yesterday. I could hear the sound of them mashing skills two blocks away..."
"Don't say it like that; it makes you sound too much like an old antique," Pikachu said.
Steve waved his Hand and said, "Alright, no more interruptions, let's get to business. I might have to go on a mission recently. Of course, it's nothing major. I want to take Peter with me; it'll be a good chance for him to get some exercise."
"You'll have to ask Stark about that; after all, Peter signed a contract with him first."
"That rich guy plans to keep Peter stuck in those boring labs? What kind of person does he want to train Peter to be? A sissy like him?" Steve said.
Schiller said, "It just so happens that I also need to leave for a while recently. Before that, I need to see Stark one more time, but I'm not sure if he'll agree to let Peter go with you, because, as you know, you two don't have a good impression of each other..."
"You're leaving? Where are you going?" Steve asked.
Schiller shook his head and didn't speak. Finally, Matt said, "I think Peter really should go with Captain. This isn't me being biased; it's just that Peter seems to have never left the town he grew up in since he was little, and boys shouldn't be like that."
"I'm going to the West. Speaking of which, it's been a long time since I was there, but I remember the scenery is quite nice."
Peter was already somewhat moved. Matt was right; due to his family's tight financial situation, Peter had never traveled since he was a child. The farthest he had been was only the outskirts of New York, and when it came to the West, what U.S. boy didn't have a cowboy dream?
Seeing Peter looking at him expectantly, Schiller raised both Hands and said, "Alright, alright, I'll go convince Stark. But you two had better take it easy. Going out on a mission is not like doing experiments in a lab. Peter, if you get hurt, your Aunt will surely cry a liter of tears."
Peter covered his forehead; he had wanted to go wild.
Steve said, "You'd best not have such high expectations. Don't think this is really a trip, kid. If you don't do well, the first one to hit you won't be the enemy; it'll definitely be me."
"Who are your enemies?" Schiller said, "Of course, I only want to know things within my clearance level; besides that, I have no interest."
Steve said, "Actually, they're not difficult to deal with. S.H.I.E.L.D. found some secret spies in the West. Perhaps 'spies' isn't accurate; they should be called an assassin organization."
"They seem to call themselves ninjas, coming and going like Shadow. We don't know who hired them, but they killed a state senator. Actually, this isn't a big deal, but it seems their leader has bigger plans, and I just happen to need a warm-up."
Matt stood up and said, "It's the Hand. Elektra told me their organization wants to come here to search for dragon bones, but they haven't made any progress, so they've been taking local jobs, causing many murders..."
"S.H.I.E.L.D. probably knows all this. They haven't made any big moves, which means the situation should still be under control," Schiller said. "More importantly, if S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to know about the conspiracy behind them, they'll have to be patient."
Matt sat back down. He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. had been watching him and his girlfriend Elektra for a long time. Their current inaction didn't mean they wouldn't act in the future. Elektra was, after all, a Hand assassin, also hired by Kingpin. Matt had to find a way to get her out.
Schiller patted his shoulder and said, "I know what you're worried about. You're upright, so you don't fear the Shadow, but your girlfriend might not be. You don't want her to become a spy to save her life, because that's also dangerous, but I can give you a suggestion."
"Although I don't know what dragon bones are, they must be a good thing, otherwise the Hand wouldn't be trying so hard to find them. Do you think Kingpin would like such a good thing?"
Matt quickly understood his meaning. Although they were all bad guys, they might not necessarily stick together, especially when their interests conflicted. Perhaps Elektra could find an opportunity to escape from it.
After Steve left, Schiller was picked up by a special car and taken to Stark Tower. Stark was holed up in his lab again, frantically tinkering with the mechs. After seeing him, Schiller shook his head and said, "If this continues, it won't be me who turns into a Vampire, but you."
Stark twisted a wrench fiercely. He said, "You don't know what the Army guys came to tell me yesterday. Ha, they want my mechs. Guess what they want to do with them?"
Schiller didn't answer him. Stark was silent for a moment, then stood up. He threw down the wrench and looked at his mechs, saying, "You're right. I can't give up everything the enemy wants. Now they want to turn my mechs into War Machine, so should I dismantle them?"
Stark spoke to himself, "Even if I dismantle all my mechs, what will I get? Will the World be peaceful? Will there be no more War? ...They'll just find another way, and the result will be that people who should have been saved by me will no longer have the chance."
"I know you don't want to give them to them. You must have fiercely refused them, and then they immediately showed a compromising attitude. They would say, 'Alright then, we don't want your mechs, just give us some ordinary weapons.' Right?"
Stark pursed his lips. He knew Schiller was right; this was an old trick of those people.
"Am I really only able to choose S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Stark said.
He walked over from the lab bench, pulled up a chair, and sat down, leaning back on the chair, somewhat fatigued. He said, "What tires me the most is that you know every path is a trap, yet you still have to choose one."
"I don't know if Howard knew things would turn out this way when he established S.H.I.E.L.D. But I think he must have known, because he was very smart, as smart as you, Stark, but he still chose to do it."
"You also prefer that I side with S.H.I.E.L.D.? If I choose S.H.I.E.L.D. now, it would indeed reduce a lot of trouble for me. As long as S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't give in, no one can take my mechs from me, but I always feel that this decision will bring me greater trouble."
"Do you have a third option?" Schiller asked.
"I don't think I do, but you don't have to be so direct."
"You really don't have a third option, but you have another choice, which is not to choose."
"But..."
Before Stark could retort, Schiller said:
"You've fallen into a thought trap, always feeling that you must truly choose a side, but that's not actually the case. You can keep delaying the choice. If one side criticizes you, then you give them some hints, for example, that the other side's terms are more favorable, and you're already tempted..."
Schiller said, "Haven't you noticed, this is a complete buyer's market. Who you choose is not because of who gives you more pressure, but only because they offer better terms."
"And who can offer terms that would tempt the World's richest man, Stark? I think as an unprecedented billionaire and scientific genius, if your asking price is a little higher, no one should question it, right?"
Stark showed a very complex and conflicted expression. He said, "You mean... I should act like a woman who's stringing along two boyfriends at once, pretending that I'll go with whoever performs better, but in reality, I won't go with anyone, and just take their courtship for granted."
"I have to say, Stark, your damned analogy perfectly reflects your damned character," Schiller said.
Stark, unashamed but proud, spread his Hands and said, "Who's the guy who understands women best? It's me, the charming Stark."
Schiller said, "Jarvis, the surveillance in Pepper's office should have been working yesterday, right? I can't wait to see the heroic figure of this Mr. Stark who understands women best."
"Damn it... Jarvis, you weren't broken yesterday? You still had the camera on?? Hey, no, don't call up the screen. Alright, I admit, there are some women I don't understand, and the foremost among them is Pepper."
Jarvis beeped twice and said, "Miss Pepper has been connected for twenty-three minutes."
Stark jumped directly out of his chair.
"Just kidding, sir," Jarvis said. Schiller then added, "Who's the guy who understands women best? It's Jarvis!"
Thank you all for your votes and rewards!
As a thank you for the rewards, an extra chapter has been randomly dropped!
