Schiller found Stark to be on the brink of madness, his mental state a complete mess. With a sort of mental connection, Schiller could feel Stark's chaotic and tangled thoughts even through the walls, giving him a headache.

Taking a deep breath, Schiller walked in. Stark looked up, rolled his eyes, and gave Schiller a big eye roll. He appeared slightly haggard but not disheveled. The consequence of wanting to save face was that Schiller could sense Stark was already on the edge of collapse but was unwilling to show it in front of Pepper.

Clearing his throat, Schiller began, and Pepper glanced worriedly at Stark before turning to leave. Schiller sat down opposite Stark and said, “Mr. Stark, may I ask you a question?”

“What do you want to ask? Are you going to talk philosophy or some useless psychological theories?”

“Neither; I want to know what my hourly rate is.”

Stark was clearly taken aback by this question and replied in disbelief, “What did you say?”

“I said I want to know the price of my psychological consultation because I was drunk when Miss Pepper and I discussed the price, and I woke up having forgotten everything,” Schiller explained.

At that moment, Stark was at a loss for words. He waved his hand dismissively and said, “You shouldn’t pick an abstract topic that you psychologists commonly discuss... like the meaning of life or the objects of sorrow...”

“Yes, that’s for the next step, once the formal consultation starts, but first I need to confirm whether you can afford my consultation fee.”

Stark’s eyes widened in shock, and he exclaimed, “What?! Do you know who I am? Oh my God, are you some kind of caveman? Don’t you recognize me? Don’t you know this is Stark Tower?”

“Yes, I know you’re wealthy, Mr. Stark, but how much money you have and how much you’re willing to pay are two different matters.”

“… How much do you want?”

“One million dollars an hour, non-negotiable.”

“Fine! Here you go! You mercenary mad doctor, have you lost your mind? One million dollars! I could hire a dozen beauties on my yacht…”

“I vaguely heard someone mention they were very rich.”

Stark was left speechless by Schiller. He said, “Did Pepper send you to mess with me? Good! Go tell her! She succeeded! I’ve already explained that the last party I threw was just to say goodbye to those ex-girlfriends; I never intended to do anything else. Why doesn’t she believe me?”

Schiller replied, “A dozen beauties on a yacht won’t make you feel better, especially when you feel like you’re about to die.”

Stark’s exaggerated gestures froze. He stiffened for a moment, turned to Schiller, his gaze suspicious.

Schiller calmly sat there and said, “You’re afraid of dying right now, but perhaps what scares you the most isn’t dying itself, but the chance to rectify your mistakes…”

“Bullshit. Who are you? Who the hell are you?” Stark’s emotions began to escalate as he said, “Did Pepper say something to you… No, she doesn’t know, you…”

Stark stared directly at Schiller and said, “Don’t try to pull these tricks on me; I don’t believe in any damn mind reading.”

“There’s no mind reading in this world, only psychology,” Schiller said.

He stood up and said to Stark, “You can keep being evasive; after all, my consultation fee is one million dollars an hour. If we keep dragging this out a little longer, I could buy a new car.”

Stark was getting a headache from Schiller’s serious yet nonsensical talk. He said, “How did you figure that out? From that ridiculous psychology?”

“That’s not important. What matters is that my only advice for you is to address the issue of death first. Of course, you might think I’m simplifying it.”

“But the method is…”

Schiller paused. Stark stared wide-eyed at him, and Schiller said, “First, pay a fifty percent deposit, and then we can start the next phase of treatment.”

Stark was practically steaming with anger; he was so amused by Schiller that he grabbed his phone and called Pepper, saying, “My sweetie, where did you find this vampire doctor? … Yes, he charged me one million dollars an hour for a consultation…”

Schiller snatched the phone and said, “Miss Pepper, Mr. Stark calculates one million dollars as the cost of a yacht full of beauties…”

Then he hung up, shook his phone, and said, “It should be in your account in five minutes.”

Stark was still staring at him.

Crossing his arms, Stark said, “Go ahead, I want to see what you can say.”

“What have you been avoiding?”

“What? What am I avoiding?”

“You’d better ask yourself; the answer is hidden inside. I’m not referring to Miss Pepper’s life-threatening calls or ambiguous texts from ex-girlfriends; I mean it…”

Schiller leaned on the table, crossed his arms, and pushed up his glasses, saying, “I’ve never seen such a peculiar case. Very unique, extremely rare…”

Stark shivered and said, “Hey, I don’t like men; keep your distance.”

“You’re not as ridiculous as you seem. I know someone very much like you who pretends to be a playboy, like a fool who just drifts through life without thinking about tomorrow.”

“But he’s very smart, too smart, so he’s always waiting for someone to give him an answer, and that answer comes from… his past.”

Stark looked at Schiller, and Schiller looked back at him. Stark whispered, “I’ll give you two million dollars to leave here. I’ll tell Pepper that your treatment was effective, I…”

“If I’m not mistaken, Miss Pepper is listening right now,” Schiller said.

Stark fell silent, and Schiller said, “For two million dollars, I’ll tell you a truly useful method.”

“Deal.”

“The past you’re most avoiding has all the answers you seek. I saw it in the news: the founder of Stark Industries, your father…”

“Enough,” Stark said.

He turned away, and Schiller couldn’t see his expression. Stark’s voice trembled as he said, “Pepper will transfer the consultation fee to you. Leave here.”

“… He would be willing to give you a second chance at life. God bless you.”

“GET OUT OF HERE!!!”

After Schiller left, Stark smashed the wine glass on the table, while in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s office, Nick Fury pressed his earpiece and said, “Immediately investigate a psychologist named Schiller. I want all his information right now.”

Once Schiller left, his account quickly received a large sum of money. He thought to himself, although Stark was difficult to deal with now, you get what you pay for, and he was still willing to help this big spender with his troubles.

Soon, there was another surprise: Schiller discovered that he could replicate Spider-Man’s abilities. It turned out that the previous lack of this function wasn’t a system glitch; it was because Peter hadn’t been bitten yet. Now that his spider abilities had manifested, Schiller could naturally replicate them.

Schiller clicked to replicate and received “Spider Sense (low-level).” Compared to the shock of gaining telepathy, this felt rather mundane. Schiller felt his senses slightly enhanced, meaning he could see farther and hear more clearly, but as for intuition, he hadn’t sensed anything yet.

He felt a bit regretful; it would be nice to have Spider-Man’s physical abilities, but since it was a weakened version, it probably just slightly enhanced his athleticism, far from performing superhuman feats.

Spider-Man didn’t start out with immense strength; his spider abilities developed gradually. It seemed he had only exceeded the average person somewhat, without being too exaggerated.

However, since Spider-Man’s storyline had begun, Peter's uncle might also be in trouble. Schiller thought about it and decided to message Peter, saying, “How are you? Do you want to come to the hospital for a check-up? I’m a doctor and can recommend a reliable trauma doctor.”

Peter quickly replied, “Wow! You’re a doctor, that’s so cool. Which hospital do you work at? What kind of doctor are you? An orthopedic surgeon? But I don’t think I need a surgeon now; I’m really happy; I think Gwen will agree to my pursuit soon…”

Schiller said, “I advise you to get checked out; being bitten by an animal is no joke. We can also meet…”

Peter was clearly hesitant; after all, meeting an online friend wasn’t a great idea at that moment. He had just gained spider abilities and was too excited to think about anything else. Schiller said, “I think you could bring Miss Gwen along. I’m at the Presbyterian Hospital, and I can arrange for you both to have a free comprehensive check-up, and then you can go to a nearby café…”

Peter was a bit tempted; firstly, his family situation was poor, and he hadn’t had the chance for any check-up, and secondly, everyone in New York had heard of Presbyterian Hospital. He said, “Thanks, but I want to bring my uncle and aunt along; they’re getting old, but that might be a bit much. If it doesn’t work, just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Schiller thought about it; this might actually be better. He said, “Sure, I’ll help you make an appointment for this weekend. You can also try to bring Miss Gwen and her family. I have plenty of slots available.”

Peter happily went to call Gwen. After all, she had always helped him, bringing him snacks and yogurt because of his poor family situation. Peter always felt guilty for not being able to help Gwen in return.

But this was a good opportunity for compensation—getting into Presbyterian Hospital wasn’t easy. Even if Gwen’s father was the police chief of New York, getting a comprehensive check-up appointment still required a long wait or might not be possible at all.

Peter felt he was incredibly lucky lately; first, he gained superpowers, and now he had met a doctor who was a friend he made online and seemed to be the attending physician. Now his uncle and aunt wouldn’t think he was wasting time chatting online.