In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group - Chapter 515: Confession in Dreams (2)

When the two of them returned to the base of the Radiance Alliance, the atmosphere had changed somewhat. However, from the outside, there didn’t seem to be any visible changes. Stark was still focused on selecting the target paths, while Steve stood by his side, arms crossed.

“I guess… it should be this one.” Stark frowned. Steve didn’t know if Stark had found some pattern or if he was relying purely on intuition, but he chose to trust Stark.

With another blink, they found themselves in an open space. Together, they looked up, and overhead was an endless high tower.

In that moment, Stark seemed to lose some strength, unable to stand as upright. Steve covered his face and said, “Good thing, I knew it… I knew he wouldn’t make it so easy…”

“Wait.” Stark furrowed his brow, turning his head around and then said, “Why is it so quiet here? Where’s Schiller? Where are the others?”

Steve also recalled his first visit to this high tower. At that time, it was bustling with people, Schiller constantly moving in the corridors. But now, the high tower seemed much quieter. Although there were still some figures in the higher levels, the lower corridors were completely empty.

Steve and Stark hesitated. Professor X had repeatedly warned them that some of the rooms in this high tower were very dangerous. Coupled with Schiller’s unusual behavior, they felt Professor X’s warning had its reasons.

However, they still needed to explore here. They followed the staircase from the ground floor to the first floor. Currently, it was empty, the room doors closed, and the corridor pitch-black.

Neither Steve nor Stark had thoroughly explored the first floor before, even when they came as premium members to play games. They were usually teleported directly to the meeting room on the higher levels.

As they walked up the staircase, they noticed that the first floor of the high tower looked somewhat rudimentary. The ground wasn’t even covered in flooring, just concrete, and the walls seemed old, with peeling paint. The density of rooms was also lower compared to the higher levels. They circled the corridor on the ground level’s atrium but found no rooms.

Just then, Stark heard movement ahead in the corridor. He quickened his pace and walked over, with Steve following closely. They reached the corner of the corridor, and with a bang, they collided with a shadow.

The small figure stood up, rubbing his forehead. He opened his eyes wide as he looked at the two intruders, his expression one of shock, as if he didn’t understand why they had appeared here.

It was a young version of Schiller, quite young, dressed in very ordinary child’s clothes. Stark gazed at him for a moment, then crouched down, patting his head and saying, “Schiller? Where’s the other you?”

The young Schiller blinked, shaking his head. Stark asked, “Do you not know, or can’t you say?”

Young Schiller shook his head again. Stark asked a series of questions, but the young Schiller didn’t respond at all. Steve walked over, patting Stark’s shoulder and saying, “It seems he can’t talk.”

Stark stood up and looked at the retreating back of the young Schiller, his brow furrowing. He said, “The good news is, Schiller should still be alive. The bad news is, something special has indeed happened, causing a part of his personality to disappear. We need to find him…”

Saying this, Stark followed the young Schiller, with Steve trailing behind. The young Schiller seemed unconcerned about them following and slowly walked into the corridor.

Upon entering the corridor, Stark noticed something unusual. This corridor was different from the ones he had seen on the upper levels. It appeared to be an old passageway, with traces of smeared cement on the ground, walls covered in peeling paint, disordered wires and mailboxes, and layers of small advertisements…

Steve stopped in front of the advertisements with writing, saying, “This should be Chinese, right? Do you recognize what’s written here?”

“Renting, locksmith, certificates…” Stark translated into English and read it to Steve. Steve raised an eyebrow in surprise and said, “You know Chinese?”

“I know almost all languages in this world.” Stark stepped over the clutter on the corridor and continued to follow the young Schiller.

Although the corridor seemed run-down, it was relatively neat. They soon arrived at the only door there. This door was different from the ones they had encountered before. It was a deep blue iron door with a square-shaped lock and a keyhole.

The young Schiller struggled a bit to open the door with a key, then walked in. He changed his shoes by the shoe cabinet near the entrance.

After changing into slippers, he walked into the room. Steve and Stark stood outside, observing the room.

“This should be a regular residential building in China,” Stark judged. “My company has Chinese employees, and in the photos left behind by their parents, the interior layout is like this.”

“They have a large living room, the kitchen is on the other side, and there’s usually a door—frosted glass doors carved with flowers. There’s also the word ‘Blessing’ posted on the bedroom door…” Stark pointed out the details inside the room, while Steve began changing his shoes.

After opening the shoe cabinet and checking the shoes inside, Steve said, “This seems to be a family of three—adults, a lady, and children’s shoes…””This should be Schiller’s childhood memory,” Stark said. He had also changed into men’s slippers. Together, they entered the room and found the young Schiller sitting on the sofa watching television.

“Isn’t it a bit inappropriate to rummage through someone else’s house?” Steve hesitated a bit. However, Stark was resolute. He said, “Special circumstances require special handling. We want to save Schiller, so looking for some information here shouldn’t be a problem.”

In the end, Steve nodded. They split up and began searching for clues in the room.

While searching the living room, Stark was the first to notice the picture frame on the TV cabinet. It was a golden frame with European-style patterns. Stark picked up the frame and saw a photo of a family of three, with the young Schiller standing between his parents.

The photo was a full-body shot, so their faces weren’t clear. After putting the photo down, Stark began searching the bookshelf for books. At that moment, Steve’s voice came from the master bedroom:

“Tony, come here, take a look!”

Stark walked quickly into the bedroom and saw Steve holding an album. They opened it, and most of the pictures inside were of the family of three. Stark commented, “Very ordinary, a happy family. It seems Schiller had a good childhood…”

Suddenly, Steve stopped flipping through the album, and Stark looked at the photo. It showed a man holding a baby. Steve furrowed his brows and said, “No, his father isn’t ordinary.”

“Why? How do you know?” Stark asked.

Steve pointed at the hand closest to the camera in the photo. He said, “Look here, calluses.”

“His father might be a soldier or an agent, and one who’s constantly in combat,” Steve deduced based on his extensive experience.

He flipped a few pages back in the album, staring at the details in the photos, and then said, “His mother isn’t ordinary either. Based on the musculature, her body fat percentage is low. Clearly, she underwent professional training…”

“They’re probably both military personnel,” Stark shrugged, not paying much attention, and started looking for other clues.

Pulling open drawers, flipping through books on the shelf, they found all sorts of books with no clear direction. Then, as Stark pulled out a thick history book, a few sheets of paper fell out from between its pages.

Stark picked up those sheets of paper, and with a puzzled expression, he said, “Sensory Training?”

Steve came over, and Stark pointed at the sheets, saying, “These are records of Sensory Training. Sensory Training is usually for children. Look here, it says sensory dysfunction, the reason is… autism? Is Schiller an autistic patient?”

“That’s not surprising. I remember he mentioned having Asperger’s syndrome,” Stark rubbed his chin.

He flipped the records a bit further, and at the end, he said, “According to these records, as Sensory Training progressed, the subject’s physical coordination greatly improved. They gained preliminary language skills, and their language abilities were rapidly increasing…”

Stark turned the page of the paper. On the other side were notes left by a ballpoint pen. He read aloud, “July 24th, able to name toys. August 19th, can read a children’s story. December 2nd, first conscious call to Mom and Dad. April 6th, clearly expresses which storybook they want…”

Steve said with emotion, “It seems Schiller’s parents loved him and made efforts to treat him. They even recorded his process of learning to speak.”

“Wait a moment…” Stark furrowed his brows, looking at the notes. He said, “Up until April, he was able to clearly express which storybook he wanted. His language abilities were no different from those of ordinary children, but…”

Stark turned his head toward the living room. He put down the notes, walked out quickly, and crouched in front of the young Schiller. He began asking the young Schiller some questions, using language and gestures to pique his interest. However, the young Schiller just looked at him, not saying a word.

After a while, Stark stood up. He told Steve, who had walked over, “He really can’t speak. He understands what I’m doing, but he doesn’t say anything…”

“But the treatment should have been successful. So why is this child, who represents Schiller’s childhood memories, still unable to speak?”

Stark turned around, picking up the family photo of three, and began to observe it again.

Just then, the light outside gradually dimmed. Stark realized that the room was divided between day and night as well.

The young Schiller, who had been sitting on the sofa watching TV, suddenly stood up. Stark and Steve’s gaze followed him as he walked into the bedroom. Stark shrugged and followed the young Schiller to the bedroom door, saying, “It seems he’s used to going to bed early from a young age.”

“Alright, sleep well, kiddo. We can go search for clues somewhere else…”

As Stark turned around to leave the bedroom, he saw that the young Schiller, who wanted to sleep, hadn’t gone to the bed in his room but had walked into the closet.

Opening the closet door, he climbed onto the shelves, almost as tall as him, curled up, and closed the closet door.

Stark saw that between the two closet doors, there was a gap that revealed the young Schiller’s eyes staring at him.

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