In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group - Chapter 530: Who Made Schiller Bloodthirsty? (2)

Stark and Steve arrived at the hospital room, and as expected, they found Schiller asleep again. Stark approached and shook Schiller, but there was no response. He manipulated his combat suit to play music, activated vibration mode, and then placed his hand on the bed’s headboard. However, Schiller remained in a deep slumber.

Steve had already gone out to call the doctor. When the doctor came in and conducted an examination and adjusted the machines, he said, “All physiological indicators are fine. He’s not in a coma. He’s genuinely just sleeping.”

“You might not know this, but in many mental disorders, insomnia and excessive sleepiness can occur simultaneously. He probably had symptoms of insomnia last night, so he’s sleeping soundly during the daytime. If you don’t have any pressing matters, you can come back later to see him.”

After the doctor left, Stark frowned as he looked at Schiller. He said, “I think we need to find him in the Temple of Thought and get this sorted out.”

Saying that, he walked to the other side of the room, to the adjacent patient bed, and said to Steve, “You stay here and keep an eye on me. I’ll enter a dream state to find Schiller and figure out what’s going on.”

Steve didn’t object. He also knew that it was safer for Stark, who now possessed knowledge of magic and psychology, to enter the dream world. Bringing Steve along might actually hinder their efficiency.

Moreover, if both Schiller and Stark were in the dream world at the same time, with no one guarding their physical bodies, it could be risky. So, Steve settled down in the middle of the two beds, with Schiller on his left and Stark on his right.

Once in the dream, Stark used the same method as before to enter Schiller’s Temple of Thought. This time, the temple was much busier. From the bottom to the tenth floor, there were numerous figures. Astonishingly, there was even a Schiller waiting to receive him.

A version of Schiller with an Earth-like head approached Stark, shook his hand, and enthusiastically guided him onto an elevator.

Inside the elevator, he introduced himself to Stark, “Recently, I don’t know what’s gotten into Schiller. He locks himself in his room every day, using that Balance to make phone calls…”

“He mutters to himself even when facing an empty table. His words are all about resurrecting conditions, the Hall of Heroes, and the like…”

“To be honest, we’re worried, but it’s hard to ask. Since you’re his friend, you might be best off advising him. Tell him not to get lost in his dreams all the time and to quickly get back to the real world to get things done…”

The globe-head version of Schiller’s head became increasingly serious as he spoke. The elevator came to a stop, reaching the 201st floor. He guided Stark forward, saying, “This is a temporary office floor. His office is all the way in the back. You’ll see it when you push the door open.”

This Schiller was considerate, even pointing Stark in the right direction. Stark nodded and walked briskly towards the room.

When he pushed open the door, he saw Schiller sitting at a desk. There was nothing on the desktop except for the Balance they had seen before. One end of the Balance had a feather, while the other end had a heart.

At this moment, the inner end of the heart was higher, and Schiller pressed it down with two fingers. There seemed to be an invisible presence Stark couldn’t see, and he pressed down on the other end.

Schiller was drinking from a cup when Stark entered. Consequently, Stark didn’t hear what he was saying. He walked up, hesitated, and saw an empty chair placed opposite the table. Stark thought of sitting down and moving closer…

“Sit over there,” Schiller pointed to the other side of the table. A chair appeared there. Stark was momentarily surprised and asked, “Why?”

“Someone is sitting across from here.” Schiller extended his finger and rubbed his temple. In his line of sight, there was a woman in professional attire. Her name tag read, “Party A Manager.”

The female figure was mainly based on comics Schiller had seen before. Originally, the image of Death in his mind was the same as in Thanos’s mind, as it was the image that left the deepest impression on Schiller from the comics he had read in his past life.

After a few rounds of negotiation, Death’s attire had changed from the usual robe to a professional office lady outfit. Because after dealing with the likes of Party A Managers, there would be hardly anyone else as difficult to deal with.

Fortunately, Schiller had made some progress. Now, Death was willing to sit across from him and have a conversation, an unprecedented breakthrough.

So, even when Schiller heard someone calling him in the real world, he didn’t leave. He was determined to close this deal, even if it was the king of kings who had come. He wouldn’t let it go until it was settled.

Some might think that this was just a projection Schiller conjured up, much like Thanos’s case. However, it was entirely different; Death was truly here.

To be frank, Death was someone Schiller couldn’t easily trick. Throughout his long professional career, he had dealt with many beings, including Odin, Osiris, Mephisto, Hela, and more.

Most gods who held the position of Death in their pantheons, or those who possessed the authority to resurrect, had engaged in trade with her. The general process was that these gods sensed Death’s presence, and when they perceived Death as having a tangible form, they would see her in the manner that Thanos did. At this point, they would realize that Death yearned for more deaths, and resurrection was just another way to bring about death.

They understood that Death, as an abstract concept, couldn’t create death directly. She needed to use intermediaries, in other words, she couldn’t simply tell Odin to “go and kill someone.” She could only achieve her goals through an indirect approach. For instance, she could grant Odin the authority to resurrect warriors, thereby enabling him to bring about more deaths.

They gleaned these insights in the depths of their consciousness when contemplating the entity of Death. Once they agreed, the trade was completed. There wouldn’t be any dramatic changes, just a permission granted from now on for resurrection. The Souls they specified would be rejected by the Realm of Death.

And how Death discerned these designated Souls was through tokens. Odin’s token was his spear, and Osiris’s token was the Balance.

Normally, tokens weren’t lost. The objects of Death’s trades, often possessing the power of resurrection, would usually develop many followers and become powerful. No one would wrest these tokens from them. For example, it would be difficult to take Odin’s spear from him.

A long time ago, when the Egyptian pantheon was thriving, it had many followers and Osiris was mighty. However, in recent times, the Egyptian pantheon had encountered many problems and hadn’t followed the path of ascent like Asgard. Hence, the trade volume represented by the Balance had always remained low.

Death’s power was limitless, but refusing Souls meant a loss of income. This loss became her investment in this pantheon.

Only when rejected Souls created more death could this investment break even. However, due to the recent decline of the Egyptian pantheon, their followers were few, and powerful individuals were even fewer. The Balance’s trade volume had been incurring losses for a long time.

Death had already allowed Osiris to resurrect many followers, which was akin to a sunk cost. If she were to give up the Balance at this point, then those rejected Souls would be a wasted effort, wouldn’t they?

Any creature with humanity, when faced with sunk costs, would hesitate. Death was no different.

Therefore, she’d rather endure Schiller’s annoying phone calls than abandon this avenue. Who knew, in a few million years, the Egyptian pantheon might evolve into something like Asgard.

However, on one hand, Schiller was indeed too annoying. Pushing sales wasn’t just an enemy of humanity; it was harassment that any intelligent creature would find intolerable. Death had roamed the realm of love for so many years, and regardless of whether they were powerful Space overlords or lofty gods, they were all her subjects. Yet, only Schiller was different; he didn’t talk about love, he didn’t talk about emotions. Every day, he was all about money, money, money, money, money. In just three days, he had proposed over a hundred plans, made thousands of phone calls, and every sentence was about interest rates, principal and interest, loans…

To be honest, after listening for so long, Death almost had a grasp of humanity’s financial theories.

Because of this, Death was indeed intrigued. In Schiller’s words, her previous mode of cooperation had been inefficient, involving too much effort for too little gain.

Schiller utilized the comparison between Asgard and the Egyptian pantheon to provide a thorough analysis of why this method didn’t work.

In simple terms, every investment carried risks, and nobody could have a foolproof strategy. One might make a substantial profit from one investment, only to suffer a massive loss from another. This was akin to the prosperous Asgard versus the near ruin of the Egyptian pantheon.

And there were numerous ways to achieve a comprehensive investment portfolio, especially since Death held such enormous authority. With this in mind, Schiller analyzed why Death’s previous methods weren’t working as effectively.

This analysis deeply resonated with Death. However, she wasn’t like the Spacedemon gods. With her immense power, she didn’t wish to cooperate on equal terms with anyone; she wanted to control Schiller just as she did Thanos.

At present, their relationship was straightforward: Schiller wanted to use Death, and Death wanted to use Schiller. Both knew each other’s hidden agendas but were reluctant to let go of the mutual benefits. Schiller wanted to win, Death wanted to win; they both sensed each other’s competitiveness but couldn’t abandon their own pride.

Anyway, they had been at a standoff for a long time, only recently achieving a breakthrough when Death finally appeared to negotiate with Schiller.

However, the negotiations weren’t going smoothly. Death was aware that the situation wasn’t in her favor. She didn’t know how Schiller learned of her final condition, that creating more death was her ultimate goal. Yet, she was oblivious to Schiller’s endgame.

Right before Stark entered the room, Death was probing Schiller, trying to ascertain what he intended to achieve with their trade.

Coincidentally, during halftime, Stark entered. Stark wasn’t Death’s negotiating partner, so he couldn’t see Death at all. In his perspective, Schiller was just mumbling to the air.

“Truth be told, Schiller,” Stark placed his hands on the desktop and said earnestly, “I can understand your past ideals and beliefs. Even though I’m not a Marxist, after hearing Steve and Natasha talk about the glory of that era, I can’t help but feel moved.”

Schiller was preoccupied with all those contracts and treaties, so Stark’s words caught him off guard.

“But, just like I told Steve, that era has passed. Dwelling on the past won’t bring any benefits. It’ll only hurt you to be consumed by it. And if you want to resurrect the past, it’ll hurt even more people.”

Stark looked into Schiller’s eyes and spoke earnestly, “If you want to resurrect the Soviet Union, I have to dissuade you.”

An overworked and mentally drained Schiller didn’t grasp what Stark was saying, but suddenly he saw Death across from him freeze, a look of fear on her face. Then, she swiftly disappeared.

Before departing, her voice echoed in the room:

“You want to resurrect the Soviet Union???”

“Goodbye!!!!!!”

Schiller was left dumbfounded.

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