In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

Schiller walked over and lifted the old-fashioned record player, giving it a gentle tap. He said, "Hmm... it might be broken. These relics from the past are often temperamental."

Daredevil couldn't see, but he was genuinely startled by the music from earlier. He said, "I never knew these relics could make such a commotion..."

Peter remarked, "It seems like it's just as rebellious as Steve."

In his mind, Schiller sternly warned his symbiote, "If you play the music that loud again, you'll never get to drink again!"

The symbiote responded excitedly in Schiller's mind, and it took him a while to understand. The symbiote revealed that until last night, it hadn't reached adulthood yet; it was still a young symbiote.

Normally, symbiotes didn't differentiate between adulthood and youth, but this particular symbiote, created by the Symbiote Deity, was unique. It required energy to nourish itself and grow.

Just last night, the symbiote had unlocked its genetic library, which contained passwords etched into the genes of each symbiote. These passwords allowed it to possess the abilities of other symbiotes, such as splitting and reproducing, infiltrating and controlling other objects, and even mimicking and fabricating.

Schiller could clearly sense that the symbiote's speech had become more organized and no longer resembled a mere echo.

The symbiote informed him that this was because its genetic password contained the language of the symbiote clan, which was also the language the Symbiote Deity used to curse. Schiller had never known this before.

In an instant, Schiller felt a mix of shock, anger, and frustration in his mind's brainwaves. It seemed that the symbiote was profoundly shocked.

After the symbiote's explanation, Schiller learned that the language of their clan was entirely different from any human language and any language in the world. The language of the symbiote clan was a language of catalog sequences, where each syllable they uttered represented a significant catalog of content. The actual content was inscribed in their genetic libraries and could only be understood by symbiotes.

The content inscribed in the genetic library was not text that humans could understand; it was a code that required special organs to decipher. It was an extremely unique encryption language. Any race other than symbiotes could hear symbiotes speak but had no way of comprehending what they were saying. This was because the content of symbiote speech was actually a catalog from their genetic library.

For example, the word "Nataru," although it had only three syllables, when integrated into the sequence of the symbiote's genetic library, represented brainwaves that lasted for nearly dozens of minutes. This syllable represented the sum of all profanity in the symbiote language, far dirtier than any swear words in any language on Earth.

The symbiote said, "This word! It'll get you into trouble!"

Schiller thought for a moment; it seemed that he had acquired useless knowledge.

Venom was either on Deadpool or in a S.H.I.E.L.D. incubator. Some other symbiotes hadn't appeared either. Even if they did, why would Schiller join them in cursing? After all, he wasn't the Symbiote Deity.

When Steve arrived around noon and missed lunch, he saw Peter looking downcast and asked, "You still haven't finished your homework? Didn't you pull an all-nighter yesterday?"

"Damn all-nighter," Schiller replied, pointing to the record player. "You should ask these two joysticks how they were treated yesterday. I could hear their skill grinding sounds from two streets away."

"Don't put it that way; you sound like an old relic," Pikachu commented.

Steve waved his hand and said, "Alright, enough with the distractions. I might have to go on a mission soon, nothing big, but I thought of taking Peter with me. It would be a good opportunity for him to gain some experience."

"You'll have to ask Stark about that, considering Peter signed a contract with him first."

"Do you think that rich guy wants Peter to stay cooped up in those suffocating laboratories? Is he trying to turn Peter into someone like him?" Steve asked.

Schiller said, "Well, I'm planning to leave for a while as well. Before that, I need to see Stark again, but I'm not sure if he'll agree to hand Peter over to you. You know, your impressions of each other aren't great..."

"Leaving? Where are you going?" Steve inquired.

Schiller shook his head and remained silent. Eventually, Matt spoke up, "I believe Peter should accompany Captain on this trip. It's not favoritism; it's just that Peter seems to have never left the town where he grew up. A young boy shouldn't be limited like that."

"I'm going to the West," Schiller said. "Last time I went there was a long time ago, but I remember the scenery was quite beautiful."

Peter was already getting excited. What Matt said was correct. Due to his family's tight finances, Peter had never traveled. The farthest he had been was the suburbs of New York. When it came to the West, what U.S. boy didn't have a cowboy dream?

Seeing Peter's hopeful gaze, Schiller raised his hands and said, "Alright, alright, I'll go persuade Stark. But you guys should take it easy. Fieldwork is different from experimenting in the laboratory. Peter, if you get hurt, your aunt will shed gallons of tears."

Peter covered his face, thinking he just wanted to have some fun.

Steve said, "Don't get your hopes too high. Don't think of it as a vacation, kid. If you don't perform well, the first person to scold you won't be the enemy; it'll be me."

"Who are your enemies?" Schiller asked. "Of course, I only want to know what's within my security clearance. Apart from that, I have no interest."

Steve said, "They're not particularly formidable individuals. S.H.I.E.L.D. in the West has discovered some secret spies, although 'spies' might not be entirely accurate. It's more like an assassination organization."

"They call themselves the Ninjas, disappearing without a trace. We don't know who's hiring them, but they've killed a state senator. Originally, that wouldn't be a big deal, but it seems their leader has bigger plans. Plus, I need a warm-up mission."

Matt stood up and said, "It's The Hand. Erica told me they're trying to find Dragon Bone here because they haven't had much success elsewhere, so they've taken on local contracts and committed a series of murders..."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. probably knows about this, and since they haven't taken significant action, the situation should still be under control," Schiller said. "What's more important is that if S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to uncover the conspiracy behind them, they'll need to be patient."

Matt sat down again, knowing that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been keeping a close eye on him and his girlfriend, Erica, for a while now. Just because they were inactive at the moment didn't mean they wouldn't be in the future. After all, Erica was an assassin for The Hand and also in the employ of Kingpin. Matt had to find a way to get her out of this mess.

Schiller patted his shoulder and said, "I know what you're worrying about. You might be fearless in the face of shadows, but your girlfriend might not be. You can't bear to see her become a spy to save herself because that's equally dangerous. But I have some advice for you."

"Although I don't know what Dragon Bone is, it must be something valuable, or else The Hand wouldn't go to such lengths to find it. If it's such a treasure, do you think Kingpin would be interested?"

Matt quickly understood what Schiller meant. Even though they were all bad guys, that didn't mean they would cooperate, especially when their interests clashed. Maybe Erica could find an opportunity to escape.

After Steve left, Schiller was chauffeured to Stark Tower. Stark was holed up in his laboratory, working tirelessly on his Mech armor. Schiller shook his head and said, "If you keep this up, you'll become the vampire, not me."

Stark tightened his wrench and replied, "You don't know what the army people told me yesterday, do you? They want my Mech armor. Guess what they want to do with it?"

Schiller didn't answer, and Stark fell silent for a moment. He stood up, tossed the wrench aside, and gazed at his Mech armor. "You're right," he said, "if I give them what they want, will the world suddenly become peaceful? Will there be no more wars? They'll just find another way, and the result will be that the people who should have been saved because of me will lose their chance."

"I know you don't want to give it to them. You should firmly reject them, and then they'll show a seemingly accommodating attitude, saying, 'Okay, we won't take your Mech armor, just give us some regular weapons.' Right?"

Stark pursed his lips. He knew Schiller was right; this was the usual trick those people played.

"Do I really have no choice but to side with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Stark asked.

He walked over from the lab table, pulled up a chair, and sat down, looking tired as he leaned back in the chair. "What exhausts me the most is knowing that every path is a trap, yet I still have to choose one."

"I don't know if Howard knew things would turn out like this when he founded S.H.I.E.L.D., but I think he must have known because he was smart, just like you, Stark. But he still chose to do it."

"Do you want me to lean towards S.H.I.E.L.D.? If I choose S.H.I.E.L.D. now, it would certainly reduce a lot of trouble for me. As long as S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't relent, no one can take my Mech armor from me. But I can't help but feel that this decision will bring me even greater trouble."

"Do you have a third option?" Schiller asked.

"I think I don't, but you don't have to be so direct about it."

"You indeed don't have a third option, but you have another choice, which is not to choose."

Before Stark could object, Schiller continued, "You're stuck in a loop of thinking that you must genuinely choose a side, but that's not the case. You can keep delaying the decision. If one side pressures you, you can drop hints that the other side's offer is more appealing, that you're tempted..."

Schiller said, "You haven't noticed that this is a buyer's market. Whomever you choose isn't because they exert more pressure on you, but because they offer better terms."

"And who can offer conditions that would entice the world's richest person, Stark? I think as an unprecedented billionaire and scientific genius, you can demand a higher price, and no one would question it, right?"

Stark wore a complex and conflicted expression. He said, "So you're saying... I should act like a woman with two boyfriends, pretend to favor the one who performs better, but in reality, I won't commit to either and just enjoy their attention."

"I have to admit, Stark, your damn metaphor perfectly reflects your damn character," Schiller said.

Stark, rather unashamedly, spread his hands and said, "Who's the guy who understands women the best? It's me, the charming Stark."

Schiller remarked, "JARVIS, the surveillance in Pepper's office from yesterday should still be working, right? I can't wait to see Mr. Stark, the man who understands women the best, in action."

"Damn it... JARVIS, you didn't break down yesterday, did you? You kept the cameras on? Hey, don't, don't call up the screen, okay? I acknowledge it, there are some women I don't understand, and Pepper is one of them."

JARVIS chimed twice and said, "Miss Pepper has been on the line for twenty-three minutes."

Stark jumped up from his chair.

"Just kidding, sir," JARVIS said. Schiller followed up, "Who's the guy who understands women the best? It's JARVIS!"