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"Lady Loki has defected!"

Schiller, who was in a drowsy state at the clinic, held his mobile phone and exclaimed, "What? Defected? Who?"

"Lady Loki!" Strange emphasized the name, then exaggeratedly shaped his mouth and continued, "Asgard's eldest princess, Lady Loki! She defected from Asgard and even stabbed her own brother before leaving!"

"Eldest princess? When did she become the eldest princess?" Schiller's focus was completely off. He reluctantly sat up from the bed, leaned against the headboard, covered his eyes with his hand, still seemingly half-asleep.

"Her elder brother, Thor, became the new king of Asgard, so isn't she Asgard's eldest princess now?"

"I know that, but what I'm asking is why she didn't accept the title of prince as a male and instead insisted on becoming the eldest princess?"

"Is that the point here?!"

Strange almost got caught up in Schiller's tangent. He exclaimed, "The point is, Lady Loki defected! She even stabbed Thor! And now she's gone without a trace!"

"Ah."

*Smack!* Strange threw down his mobile phone, took a deep breath, and looked at Stark beside him, saying, "I knew this plan wouldn't fool him. Doesn't he know what kind of person Lady Loki is?"

"It seems that mere words won't deceive him." Steve, who was nearby, crossed his arms and said, "If language won't work, then we need to create some commotion."

Strange turned back to Stark and said, "Tony, you and Schiller, both of you..."

"Schiller wants to help you, so he took a big detour, creating the whole 'Soviet Union' persona, successfully promoting the united development of various civilizations on Earth. Then he placed you in charge of the Solar System construction plan. The only person who remained unaware throughout this was you."

"Now, you want to repay the favor, so you're planning to deceive Schiller with another convoluted scheme, making him the only person uninformed in this plan. Do you both... have a bit of a problem in your heads?"

Steve chuckled and patted Strange's shoulder, then said, "Is today the first day you've met the two of them? Do you even need to ask that question?"

Natasha, who had just come back from smoking a cigarette, walked over and looked at Strange, asking, "How's it going? He should have hung up the phone by now, right?"

"You really understand him well. It was a waste that those senators didn't ask you to seduce Schiller. You would have been perfect for the job," Stark, now quite angry, said, ready to snap at anyone.

But Natasha wasn't about to indulge him. She rolled her eyes and retorted, "Yeah, when they were considering having me seduce Schiller, I thought, luckily they didn't ask me to seduce you..."

Natasha's gaze traveled down Stark's chest and above his thighs, then moved up to his face, and finally lowered to a certain region. She smoothed her hair, gave a disdainful sound, and turned to leave.

Any man would understand what that meant. Strange widened his eyes slightly, looking at Stark with a gossipy expression. Steve shifted his eyes slightly, coughed twice, and averted his gaze.

Stark angrily pounded the table, then, after glancing around, he walked past Steve from behind and bumped him with his shoulder, whispering, "Back when Natasha came to the U.S., was it to act as a spy at Stark Industries?"

"Of course, even though she might not have gained much in terms of business information, but..." Steve also glanced back at Stark.

"What are you two talking about?! What are you talking about?!" Stark shouted, raising his hand and wiggling a finger, "First of all, we are innocent... okay, I acknowledge it, when she first arrived, I may have taken a few more glances."

Faced with Strange and Steve's disapproving looks, Stark took a deep breath and continued, "Alright, more than a few glances, but she's beautiful. It's human nature to appreciate beauty."

"But there's nothing between us. She hadn't been here for long before I got kidnapped to Afghanistan."

"Seriously, though she's beautiful, she's nowhere near Pepper in terms of inner qualities. I'm not the shallow kind who only stares at a woman's appearance."

"Oh, oh, oh, yes!" Strange made a series of strange sounds. He looked up at the ceiling and said, "JARVIS, you absolutely have to tap into Miss Pepper's communication. Otherwise, this pure and innocent male drama will be wasted."

Steve quickly stepped forward to stop the fist-swinging Stark. He took his shield and tapped it, saying, "Back when we were at the Avengers base, you mentioned owing Schiller a favor and came up with a plan. What are the specifics of that plan? You haven't told us yet."

Stark lowered his fist and rubbed his wrist, saying, "Some things aren't best discussed here. Let's talk about it when we go to the Radiance Alliance base tonight. By the way, Schiller's scheme has affected quite a few victims. I'll have Professor X bring them all over..."

Inside Hell's Kitchen's clinic, Marc sat across from Schiller's desk, appearing somewhat nervous. His hands were placed straight on his knees, his waist was tense, and he dared not lean against the backrest. Schiller looked at him and said:

"You don't need to be so nervous. This is just an initial examination. The specifics of the treatment will depend on the results of the examination."

"What do I need to do?" Marc asked. He seemed to relax his bodily movements, his shoulders loosening, his upper arms hanging naturally. However, his facial muscles remained stiff and somewhat contorted.

Schiller calmly observed him. Marc was aware of his state not being right. He put his hand to his forehead and said, "I'm sorry, but now might not be the right time for me to undergo psychological treatment."

"What's wrong?"

Marc opened his mouth, then pursed his lips. He seemed unsure how to describe his experience, but after a while, he began:

"I don't know what happened. Yesterday, I was assigned a security task to provide protection for Stark's science and technology exhibition. You know, the kind of task that isn't very dangerous, especially considering it's Iron Man we're protecting."

"By all accounts, this should have been practice for newcomers. But who would have thought that those few newcomers who just finished training would all have other jobs now? Only I ended up with this insignificant task."

"I know it's my superior finding fault with me, but I couldn't do anything about it. After meeting Stark, both he and I were impatient. Everyone knows this is just a routine, and calling it security is actually just surveillance."

"Somehow, I fainted in the restroom midway. I suspect the other personality might have emerged again."

"Right after that, this morning..." Marc propped his elbows on the table, covered his face with his palms, and said, "I saw the headline on the front page of the Horn Daily about 'Iron Man's Battle Against the Bandage Killer.' Oh my God..."

"The Bandage Killer? They actually gave you such an unpleasant nickname? Seems like your path as a superhero isn't going smoothly."

"A superhero?" Marc chuckled self-deprecatingly. He said, "I appeared as an opponent to superhero Iron Man. Do you really expect them to give villains some flattering name?"

"But is that really an issue? You just admitted you're the Bandage Killer, and since no one has seen your face, plus the fact that you're sitting here, it means Stark isn't planning to pursue you."

"Stark might not be pursuing me, but my colleagues..." Marc wore a complex expression, mingling shock and confusion.

"Lately, something strange has been happening to them. Suddenly, they've become extremely attentive, to the point that it's making me a bit afraid."

"The news of me resigning has been circulating for quite a while now. Normally, nobody would care about someone who's about to leave. But who would have thought that this morning, someone brought me breakfast, someone bought me a newspaper..."

"My usually difficult boss not only approved my resignation instantly but even increased my insurance coverage before I resigned, so I'd have enough money to come here for treatment..."

Marc propped his hand on the table, supporting his forehead. His face was filled with bewilderment. He said, "How did they suddenly change their minds?"

Schiller smiled and said, "Perhaps it's because of the existence you're unaware of. This might have frightened them."

Marc didn't understand Schiller's riddle, but soon enough, Schiller continued, "So, have you already left the CIA now?"

"Correct, I was actually wondering about my next job."

At this point, Schiller produced a set of documents and handed them to Marc. With a hint of confusion, Marc lowered his head, accepted the documents, and saw a line written on it: "S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Recruitment Notice."

Marc's eyes widened slightly, and he asked, "You want me to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.? But I don't have any experience dealing with supernatural events."

"No problem, experience is something that can be built up over time. The director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick, is currently in need of people. As a former psychologist at S.H.I.E.L.D., I'm happy to do a favor for my old boss and recommend an outstanding candidate."

Marc hesitated for a moment. However, when he flipped open the first page of the recruitment notice and saw a string of numbers on top and a bunch of figures below, he *slapped* the notice shut and looked at Schiller, saying:

"Pass my regards to my new boss."

"Don't worry, but your dissociative identity disorder still needs treatment." Schiller toyed with the pen in his hand.

Marc furrowed his brows and said, "Are there any viable treatment options? At the very least, I need to lead a normal life and not keep fainting."

Schiller flipped through the medical record in his hand and said, "We've been in contact for a while now, and your condition is quite rare. Generally speaking, the first personality to split off in cases like yours is a protective personality."

"Based on the personalities of the two, you resemble that protective personality more, because your personality is more intact and stable."

"But in reality, you are the original host, and Jack is the protective personality that split off. He exhibits extremely aggressive states and is very unstable and incomplete."

"However, now you have a third personality forming, and this third personality is even more complete and stable than either of you."

"This irregular situation is quite rare, like there's no fundamental reason behind it, just random splitting."

Schiller pointed at a set of documents on the table and said, "I and some of my teachers and classmates have discussed this rare case, but they're also at a loss."

Marc's complexion turned somewhat pale. Schiller noticed his expression and said, "However, the origin of personalities is an academic topic to be studied. As for the practical treatment part, our opinions are quite unanimous."

"Since your most recently formed third personality is the most complete and stable, we can try to guide him, help him develop faster, and eventually take over your daily life."

"When he's conscious, I won't be? Doesn't that mean he's replacing me?"

"Most of the time, yes. For ordinary people, when another personality takes over, you're not conscious. But..." Schiller's tone changed as he continued, "you're not an ordinary person. You're a follower of the Moon God Khonshu and also my patient."

"I can teach you how to utilize your consciousness space. Khonshu can assist you with power, allowing you to construct buildings within your consciousness space. When your mental strength becomes stronger, you can also become aware of events happening in the real world."

Marc saw the tall figure of Khonshu appear behind Schiller, those hollow eye sockets fixed on him. Marc took a deep breath. He was growing tired of this life where he'd intermittently lose consciousness. Accepting this proposal wouldn't make his situation worse.

Schiller tidied up the medical record in front of him and looked at Marc, saying, "During this period, you'll be hospitalized in this clinic. Guiding personality growth is not a simple task and requires long-term observation."

Marc nodded, stood up, and Schiller walked downstairs together, showing him the location of the rooms on the ground floor. At that moment, Peter, carrying a backpack, walked in. Schiller pointed at him and said:

"Peter, you better not let me catch you staying up playing games until 3 in the morning. Get some rest early tonight."

Peter scratched his head, gave an embarrassed smile, nodded, and then quickly climbed the staircase with two steps at a time.

As Schiller was arranging a room for Marc, he heard Peter mutter as he rushed up the staircase:

"Just when I left the laboratory, Mr. Stark said the same thing. He even told me to sleep at nine tonight. Good grief..."

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