On the terrace on the second floor of the hotel in a somewhat dimly lit place, a tall man in a suit pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, leaned on the railing, made a relaxed gesture, but pinched the cigarette tightly, and then tilted his head slightly, looking at the flickering window on the side of the hotel.

The sight in one of the windows caught his attention, and instead of throwing the cigarette butt to the ground, he stuck his fingernail in the center of the cigarette butt, tore the unsmoked part, and lit it with a lighter.

When the flames were about to burn his fingertips, he tossed the cigarette butt with the flame on it to the ground and stomped on his toes, making sure no fingerprints were left.

He walked into the hotel with a steady pace, greeted the waiter who greeted him, and then stepped into the elevator and straightened his suit.

With a "ding" sound, the elevator door opened, he walked out, his shoes stepped on the carpet on the guest room floor, making a dull sound, he walked through the somewhat dim hotel corridor and came to the door of room 3103,

"Tuk", "Tuk", "Tuk", he knocked on the door a few times, there was no response in the room, the man took out a note from the pocket of his suit and stuffed it under the crack in the door, after a while, the door lock rang softly, he walked in and saw an old man with a somewhat serious face.

"You're the liaison sent by the doctor?" The old man looked him up and down and said, "Looks like the guy Pierce is looking for...... Come on in. ”

He turned around and wanted to go into the room, but as soon as he took two steps, he felt something in his back, and the old man, who had been in the sea of spies for half his life, immediately realized that it was a pistol with a silencer.

He slowly raised his hands, and said in a calm tone, "Who are you?" Who does it work for? S.H.I.E.L.D. or KGB? ”

"I work for doctors."

"Bang!"

Seeing the figure of the old man slowly falling, Grant removed the magazine of the pistol, he put the gun away, put on the gloves, groped around the old man's body, took back the note he had passed through the crack in the door, and then turned around and left as if nothing happened.

Walking out the hotel door, in the middle of the night in New York, he walked to a park phone booth to dial the phone, and then said to the other end of the line, "How are you doing?" Let's meet, at the café west of Hell's Kitchen. ”

A slightly indifferent voice came from the other side, "Tomorrow at 3 p.m., ......"

The next morning, in the cafeteria of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Alliance, Schiller and Stark were eating breakfast face to face, Stark was cutting the sausage on the plate, and complained: "I don't know what's going on recently, many councilors have been assassinated, even if you want to take revenge at this time, you have to consider the overall environment, right?" ”

Schiller didn't speak, just focused on the food on the plate with a knife and fork, Stark glanced at his movements and said, "What's wrong with you lately?" ”

"What's wrong?" Schiller did not look up, but asked him rhetorically.

"I think you're getting a little weird." Stark pulled the corners of his mouth down and said, "It's like a different person." ”

Schiller put half a small tomato in his mouth, then looked up at Stark and asked him, "Where did you see that?" ”

Stark opened his mouth, as if there was too much to say, and he didn't know where to start, he lowered his head and cut a piece of beef, and said while eating: "Let's talk about clothes first, you usually like to wear a doctor's uniform, but you like shirts or sweaters, I don't see you wear a suit much." ”

Stark glanced up at Schiller again, who was sitting across from him, wearing a dark suit and a checkered tie, and he continued: "Although there are many people in Manhattan, especially around Wall Street, who like to wear suits all year round, how did your style suddenly change so much?" ”

"What else?" Schiller asked as he ate.

Stark stared at his plate and said, "I just wanted to ask, why did you move the omelette from left to right and back from right to left, is this some kind of ritual?" ”

"Because the vegetables have to be placed on the left at the beginning."

"So what?"

"So the omelette can only be moved to the right."

Stark took a deep breath and said, "If you have any grievances against me, you can just say it, my temper has been much better recently, and I can even tolerate Steve dangling in front of my eyes......"

"It's nothing, it's just that I'm having an anxiety attack." Schiller still didn't look up, he was eating very intently, Stark snorted and said, "You can't fool me, I also have anxiety disorders, although I haven't done it for a long time, but I know what this disease feels like." ”

"Panic, hyperventilation, stiffness, at the worst of the attack, I had to lean against a wall and lift the other with one hand to continue the experiment, I remember you wrote a medical history in my medical records, don't you remember?"

Schiller suddenly stopped what he was doing, then looked at Stark and said, "The answer is full marks, but it is useless." ”

With that, he put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and just as he was about to stand up, Stark stopped him: "You're just leaving??" We're not done yet! What the hell is going on with you? ”

"Is this really an anxiety disorder? How do I feel that something is not right? Stark looked at the cutlery left behind by Schiller, where the rest of the food was neatly arranged.

Schiller stepped out of his chair, glanced back at Stark and said, "It's an anxiety disorder, but it's just a complication, and you can also think of it as a side effect of my broccoli allergy." ”

As he spoke, he leaned over to straighten the fork that was a little crooked, and then turned away neatly, Stark stared at the back of Schiller's departure, and he muttered to himself, "What the hell is wrong with him?" ”

At this moment, another figure walked over, and when the waiter removed Schiller's plate, Steve sat down across from Stark and said, "Don't mind if I eat here?" It just so happens that we can discuss what the Avengers are doing next. ”

Stark twisted his head to the side a little unnaturally, but he didn't object, Steve leaned his upper body out of the chair, glanced back, just in time to see Schiller pushing the revolving door away, he asked, "Do you think he's been weird lately, as if he's changed?" ”

"I found out before you did, and when he said he was going back to that little clinic in Hell's Kitchen, I thought something was wrong."

Steve frowned as he ate, and said, "Remember what we speculated about last time?" Hydra may be influencing the emotions of all of us, do you think he will also ......"

"Unlikely." Stark picked up a potato with a fork, put it in his mouth, and said, "He's a psychiatrist, and he can read minds, but he can't be easily influenced." ”

"Have you forgotten?" Steve leaned forward, lowered his voice, and said, "He came into contact with that black-robed hydra in the sanatorium, those people are very good at brainwashing, Schiller has been with them for a while, we had better investigate this matter clearly." ”

"How are you going to investigate? Go straight to him? Stark tilted his head, put the fork down, and said, "If he hadn't been brainwashed, he would have treated us like psychopaths, and if he had been brainwashed, do you think he would admit it?" ”

"We've got to find a professional." Steve said firmly, Stark raised an eyebrow and looked at him, and the two looked at each other, both thinking of the same person.

By the afternoon the light was getting stronger, and the snow that had covered the streets last night was beginning to melt and the ground was a little muddy, and Schiller stomped his foot on the threshold as he walked into the café, shaking the snowflakes that had stuck to the edges of his shoes.

Grant saw him, but his face remained unchanged, he just lowered his head and drank his coffee, and after Schiller walked over, he sat down across from him, took the coffee from the waiter's hand, scooped the latte art on the surface with a spoon, and said, "How many are these?" ”

"Sixth." Grant glanced to the side, Schiller saw his movements, and said, "I have to say, even in S.H.I.E.L.D., you are a very vigilant agent." ”

Grant let out a low sneer through his nose and said, "So what? Didn't it fall into your hands? ”

"Don't worry, I haven't finished the second half of the sentence yet, your current vigilance is in obvious contrast with your previous naivety, how do you think that there will really be a day to get out of this business?"

Grant pursed his lips and said with a self-deprecating smile, "Indeed, how could I expect a despicable and cunning Hydra to keep his word? ”

Schiller took a sip of coffee from his cup and said, "Do you think I'd love to pick you?" I don't like forcing an ordinary person to be a killer if someone else is available. ”

Everyman? Grant almost sensed the absurdity, it was the first time he had heard someone call him an ordinary person, and even Garrett would often praise him for his talent in this area.

In the career path of an agent and killer, Grant's resume can be called very good, he entered the industry very early, since he was adopted by Garrett, he has been receiving professional agent training day after day, in addition, Garrett also taught him a lot of killing skills, a senior agent's words and deeds, so that the beginning of this industry has exceeded the end of many people.

If the situation in S.H.I.E.L.D. continues to develop according to the previous situation, then it is very likely that he will take over the position of the leader of Hydra in S.H.I.E.L.D. at Pierce's age.

Schiller seemed a little interested in the subject, and he continued: "It may sound ridiculous to you, but many murderers are born, or rather, some natural murderers have a talent in this area that is difficult for ordinary people to achieve. ”

"For example?" Grant asked, looking at him.

"In the case of psychopathic disorder of antisocial personality disorder, it is very unlikely that they will be born homicidal, they are cold-blooded, irritable, and good at controlling others, and one of the cases I recently encountered was a teenager who was much younger than you."

"Who's that?"

"You don't know him, but I know him well, his name is Oswald Copote."

"A ...... with a sharp beak Little Penguins. ”

7017k