Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel? - v15 Chapter 20 Special Interview (Three K)

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By returning to Tony's secret laboratory under the Playboy Building, the bald Tony immediately took off his jacket and poured himself another glass of gin.

Strange looked at him with contempt: "I know how your belly grew. You won't be addicted to alcohol again, Tony?"

"Say a few words and no one will treat you as dumb..."

Tony drank the wine in the glass and turned to ask the mage, "So, what did the psychiatrist tell you?"

"Some of the more interesting...facts."

He Shenyan didn't say more, his expression was very intriguing. Tony thought he was going to start explaining or doing something else, but he didn't, he just opened a portal again and walked in himself.

After he left, Tony glanced at Strange, who was eating ice cream again, with a displeased face: "He's starting to be a riddleman again, right?"

"Don't ask me." Strange scooped out a chunk of ice cream with a spoon. "I don't know, I don't want to know anything. These are the easiest days I've had in two years, Tony, can you show me a movie? I want to watch a romantic comedy."

"...Thank you for being the Supreme Mage."

Strange sat down slowly on Tony's sofa, then put his feet on his coffee table. With a smile, he took another bite of ice cream: "The Supreme Master can't rest?"

He said righteously: "He didn't tell us what happened, it's clear he's going to deal with it himself - in that case, let's not follow him. I'm not tired if you're not tired, Jia Wes, help, put on a romantic comedy movie."

"Okay, Doctor."

Jarvis' electronic voice is mild and favorable, making Strange laugh a lot. But he clearly wanted to add to the fire.

"Seriously, Tony, Jarvis is more human than you are."

Tony's eyes began to twitch.

Leaving the portal, He Shenyan came to a dusty warehouse.

It's still Maine, and it's that town called Castle Rock. The warehouse in front of him is a common one-story warehouse, which sometimes may not be opened for decades. Although the one in front of him didn't last that long, judging from the dust on the doorknob, he obviously had a lot of thoughts.

He Shenyan walked forward, the lock cylinder was pried by an inexplicable force, the handle was bent down, and with a light click, it was opened.

A musty smell came out.

It was very dark inside, and the warehouse was not big, about five square meters in size, full of cardboard boxes and some sundries. The mage entered, an armchair appeared under him, and he sat down slowly. Then, the door slammed shut, and the room began to expand infinitely.

The soft light lit up above his head, making it brighter again. The cardboard boxes closest to him floated up, the seals gently left the box, and the contents began to fly out one by one. Most of them are paper documents with a shocking red color on them.

He Shenyan raised his hand and took one.

"Psychological Assessment, One Hundred and Thirty-Second."

"Patient, Wanda Django Maximoff."

"Wanda's situation started to get worse. She said she couldn't sleep for a month, not even on sleeping pills. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those eerie visions. I asked her, What kind of phantom?"

"She didn't tell me, and I asked again if she could cast a spell for me to see. She firmly refused, saying those things might drive me crazy."

"As a doctor, I think, I'm definitely a failure, I can't help my patient. But I do wonder, can anyone really help her?"

"After the disintegration of the United States, everyone's life has improved a lot. At least there are no more homeless people on the street corners, and Wanda has moved to a secluded community to live alone."

"She meets with me once a week to talk about recent life, changes, and her state of mind. If my memory hadn't gone wrong, she'd be on the verge of collapse by now. And I can't even find it. Something is bothering her."

"God, if you really exist, please bless this lady. She has saved us many times, she is one of those brave people, and she should not end up like this."

The mage took this evaluation sheet away with a blank expression, and he began to think about it. In the cemetery, Woolf agreed to his request—the old man's soul let go of his memory for him to read, and the mage was able to see the second half of the counseling session.

"I've turned off the camera, Ms. Wanda, and you can start talking."

Woolf Pyne said he had gray temples, a bookish look, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses on his nose.

Wanda pursed his lips and spoke after a while.

"I don't know what to say, doctor. I can't sleep, and as soon as I close my eyes, they scream at me in my dreams."

"they?"

"Yes, they are."

Wanda's face paled a bit. "At first it was just black, shapeless smoke. Later, they started to take shape. I can't describe them to you, doctor. Because human language is in them. It's too powerless in front of the form."

Dr. Woolf pushed his glasses, put down the paper and pen, and nodded: "So, they keep changing?"

"Yeah, a little bit more real."

"So, Ms. Wanda, how long did this process take?"

"I'm not sure."

Wanda looked at him blankly and said: "Ten years...? They have been there since I mastered my abilities, and I hardly had nightmares at first. The mastery of abilities is getting stronger and stronger, and they are appearing more and more frequently.”

She hugged her shoulders tightly, as if feeling a little cold. But the temperature of the central air conditioner is 26 degrees.

Wanda whispered, "They've been screaming at me, trying to say something to me. But I can't hear anything."

"You think they have intelligence?"

"Maybe."

Wolf nodded, and at this moment, some guesses flashed through his mind. Often, people with schizophrenia fantasize about non-existent friends that only they can see and give them special meaning.

But he had never seen someone like Wanda who imagined some shifting shadows—a guess crossed his mind: Was it really just the non-existent thing she had seen in her dreams?

What if the stuff in the nightmare really exists?

Wolfe didn't say anything, he just shrugged off the subject.

"Are you afraid of them, Miss Wanda?"

Wanda was stunned for a moment, and Wolfe patiently waited for her answer, but Wanda didn't speak for a long time. Wolfe even had to speak to remind her, "Ms. Wanda?"

"Ah! What?"

She seemed to wake up from a nightmare: "What's the matter, doctor?"

"...you've just been in a trance, ma'am."

Dr. Wolfe took off his glasses and looked at her worriedly: "Are you sure you're all right? If you feel sick, I can stop—"

"—No, no. Don't terminate." Wanda shook her head. "Where did we just say?"

"...Are you afraid of them, ma'am?"

"No, I don't think I'm afraid of them."

Wanda said firmly: "I'm an avenger, doctor. I've fought aliens, I've fought a crazy alien titan, and every year I help Kama Taj with many evil spirits that try to summon demons. Cultists. I'm not afraid of them..."

"I, am I not afraid of them?"

Her tone gradually became full of doubt from the beginning of determination, Wanda raised her hand and looked at her own hands, her eyes were full of horror, and even her breathing became rapid: "Doctor, they... They seem to be right here."

She looked around, her expression horrified, her chest heaving rapidly: "They... are talking to me, doctor."

Wolf's expression was clearly frightened by her.

He swallowed and took a sip from the water glass on the ground. The sound was very obvious in the quiet room.

Putting down the water glass, he calmed down a bit: "Wanda... Madam, are you okay?"

She didn't answer—as before, she fell into that state again.

And, this time, she was in a trance longer.

From Wolfe's point of view, her profile undoubtedly looks like a painting. The sun just hit the side of the face, and the other half fell into darkness. The contrast is strong, coupled with her beauty, I am afraid that any painter will have immediate inspiration. However, the expression on her face was so heart-wrenching.

It was an indescribable sadness, mixed with hatred and anger. Her eyes were like a piece of glass that reflected many rays of light, and each reflection had a different meaning. Wolf was stunned, and even forgot his words.

After about ten minutes, Wanda finally recovered.

"...let's go here, doctor, I think," she said softly, standing up. "See you next time...the psychological evaluation lasts half a year, right?"

"Yes, yes," Wolff stammered.

After she left, Wolfe did not speak for a long time. Looking back on the whole process, he felt chills on his back, as if something crawled out of the cemetery was lying on his back, grabbing around him, bringing the breath of death to him.

Sitting in the dark, He Shenyan's expression was very puzzled. The papers were scattered all over the place, he closed his eyes and began to search for her traces. Unsurprisingly for nothing, Wanda may have crossed the dimensional boundary and went to another parallel universe.

However... There was always a question in his heart.

Wanda, what the **** have you been through?

What could make an Avenger who's been through so many wars, a strong woman, have a mental breakdown, or even schizophrenia? Is it the power of magic, or is there something special at work in it?

He had no way of knowing.

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