The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman

After the law and order in New York was completely cleaned up, Schiller completely gave up.

He felt that he could no longer find someone who could be treated, so he began to drink more and more.

Even though the skytrain station at the sanatorium was finished, he didn't move back in, instead he drank in his little clinic.

Schiller is now paralyzed on the sofa in the center of the clinic living room. The white coat that was buttoned up meticulously is now completely open. There are wine stains on one side and two holes scalded by soot on the other. Know where the blood is coming from.

Schiller seemed to have just woken up from a hangover, and subconsciously touched the wine bottle beside him, and found that the bottle was empty. He lowered his arms weakly, pursed his lips, leaned on the armrest of the sofa, and fell asleep.

In the next few days, Schiller discovered that all tobacco, alcohol and drugs had disappeared throughout Hell's Kitchen, and even in Brooklyn along the Hudson River.

It means disappearing in the physical sense. No matter how much money he takes or where he buys it, he cannot buy it at all.

Schiller can use the flash to travel freely in Hell's Kitchen, but his continuous flash has a distance limit.

Stark and Strange, who knew Schiller very well, pulled out a large defense net and cleared all addictive things within the range of Schiller's activities.

This is not a situation where Schiller can gain something by throwing away his moral bottom line. These things just disappear on the physical level, and there is no way to change it no matter whether it is to deceive or sneak attack.

Just like what Matt said, the world's most talented scientists and the world's most powerful magicians have teamed up, there is nothing they can't block, even the sewers near Hell's Kitchen have been sieved by them, all The empty wine bottles and empty medicine bottles that fell in were all picked up, and there was not even a trace of residue left.

Now, Schiller is in a complete vacuum, no smoke, no alcohol, no drugs.

Although he can buy it if he travels a little farther, but the feeling of emptiness and helplessness in Schiller's heart makes him unwilling to leave too far away from the place he is familiar with. He just wants to go back to the clinic as soon as possible, which can give him a lot Not much security.

After returning to the clinic, Schiller felt idle again. Gradually, he didn't like to stay in the clinic anymore, but began to wander the streets, preferring to squat in front of the window in the middle of the night rather than go home.

Such a picture gradually shrunk, Stark, Strange and Steve looked at the shivering Schiller squatting on the street corner in the picture, and sighed in unison.

He must be feeling very sad right now. Steve covered his mouth with his hands, and then emphasized:

I think he didn't understand at all why we ignored him all of a sudden!

Steve shook his head vigorously, put the shield on his hand aside, and said, I feel like we are those bad students who take the lead in isolating others in school... I really can't do this, if you can't give Come up with a better treatment plan, I'm going to find him now!

After finishing speaking, he turned around and was about to go out, but Stark stopped him and said, Don't do this, Steve, don't worry, we have consulted the most famous psychologists in the world, including Schiller's teachers and professors.

In addition to including authorities on psychology and psychiatry, it also includes experts who specialize in drug or psychogenic addiction.

The unanimous conclusion they gave was that in the initial stage of treatment, there must be a process of forced withdrawal. In this world, to quit any drug or addiction, you need to let the body and brain adapt to the state of low feedback. This process is bound to be painful and long.”

And after the body gradually adapts, you can start to solve the psychological problems...

It was rare for Stark to explain a lot patiently. Steve took the shield and knocked on the edge of the table and said, I really can't accept it. Seeing my friend in such pain, but not helping him.

He took a deep breath, and then said, Fortunately, you send Peter out first, otherwise, we won't be able to stop him no matter what.

The people sitting here are all relatively rational adults. Strange said: We all know that Schiller can't go on like this, whether it's the symptoms of his autism or the stress caused by psychological trauma. irritability, or the psychological barrier that he has been pursuing excessively for emotional stimulation, sooner or later it will be resolved.

Do you hope that now we will work together and unite, and use the most resources and the best state to treat steadily, or do you plan to wait until the day Schiller really has an accident and rush to recover?

Steve was silent, lowered his head, Tony sighed softly and said, I know, we are all uncomfortable, but this day will come...

Steve paused, put down his shield, and made a sign of the cross on his chest. His low prayer echoed in the room, and at this time, snowflakes had just fallen outside the window.

Lord, if our friend is doomed to this fate, please do not relieve me of the sorrow and pain in my heart, and make me share with him.

Also make me, in the days of your birth, no longer feel any joy and happiness, to comfort the cold he felt... Amen.

The winter in New York is getting deeper and the temperature is getting lower and lower. This year is destined to be a very lively Christmas. Christmas decorations have been placed on the streets in advance, and the merchandise in the windows has also been renewed.

After the first snowfall, the festive spirit intensifies and Christmas carols are played everywhere.

At the end of the street covered with thick snow, a man in a coat and scarf squatted down beside the street lamp.

He didn't seem to be in a good condition, he was struggling to breathe, and the saliva and snot flowed out together, and before they were wiped off, they condensed into tiny ice crystals.

But no one will be interested in him. This kind of person is too common in this neighborhood. Of course, there can't be any good people living in a neighborhood close to Hell's Kitchen. A drug addict who suddenly fell ill on the side of the road is not even called here. It's the scenery.

The man wasn't wearing gloves, so he stuck his hand into the other cuff, sniffling and shivering, looking both cold and severe withdrawal.

He squatted next to the street lamp for a while, and seemed to feel better, so he turned his head and looked at the window next to him, but at this moment, a hand stretched out, and there was still half of it between his fingers. smoke.

The man squatting next to the street lamp, as if seeing a savior, took the cigarette butt with trembling hands and put it in his mouth.

When he reached for the cigarette, he turned his body sideways, so the standing man, Shadow saw his face clearly, and exclaimed:

Schiller???!!

Eddie hurried over and found that it was actually Schiller who was crouching next to the street lamp and fell ill.

Seeing Schiller trembling all over, Eddie hurriedly took off his coat and wanted to put it on Schiller, but looked at the dust on the coat and hesitated.

Eddie took two steps back, looked up at the sky, and finally decided to reach out and put the coat on Schiller, but to his surprise, Schiller remained motionless and let him fiddle with it.

Schiller's attention was all on the half of the cigarette, even though his hands were trembling so that he couldn't put the cigarette into his mouth accurately, he was still trying his best, completely ignoring the butt that was almost burnt to the end The flames scalded its frozen white knuckles.

Eddie hurriedly stretched out his hand, grabbed Schiller's wrist, shook the cigarette butt off his hand, and said, Dr. Schiller, what's wrong with you? Are you sick? Do you want me to call an ambulance for you? ?”

Schiller shook his head immediately, he blinked with some effort, and then his eyes fell on the cigarette butt that Eddie threw away, and Eddie followed his gaze, but at this time, Schiller had already He stretched out his hand.

Eddie hurriedly stopped him, then took out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket in a panic, handed Schiller one, and then wanted to help him light the cigarette.

But Schiller couldn't hold the cigarette with trembling hands, and couldn't protect the fire. Eddie had to suck the cigarette by himself, lit the cigarette, and handed the cigarette to Schiller hesitantly.

He knew that this doctor had a very serious obsession with cleanliness. He would not even accept cigarettes from other people's cigarette cases, let alone cigarettes that others had smoked. Moreover, he almost never used a lighter, only matches .

However, Schiller completely abandoned his former demeanor, like a real drug addict living on the street, he hurriedly stuffed the cigarette into his mouth, took a puff, held his breath for a while, Take a puff of smoke.

Whether it's the hand holding the cigarette, or the action of smoking and spitting out the smoke, the lightness seems to be afraid of wasting any nicotine.

Eddie squatted down opposite him, frowned, squinted, put his head close to Schiller's face, then looked into his eyes and said, Doctor, what's wrong with you?

...I'm not a doctor. Schiller's hoarse voice made Eddie startled. He had long since lost the smooth and soothing tone he had during psychotherapy. It sounded like he was eager to find someone late at night. The coughing sound of a homeless man sheltering from the wind in a cardboard box.

Suddenly, Eddie's body shook, the venom spread, and the big mouth with fangs came close to the tip of Schiller's nose, and the hoarse voice of the venom sounded:

Look...who is this? Doctor? No, no, no, a patient...a very sick patient...I can feel...

Venom's spider's compound eyes blinked, and the low tone made Schiller think of someone.

So, Schiller removed the cigarette in his hand with trembling hands, raised his head, exhaled the last puff of smoke, and then pressed the cigarette butt on Venom's eyes fiercely.

Awww!!!!

Venom let out a scream, covered his eyes and retreated, and the next second, he retreated into Eddie's body.

Eddie stood where he was, rubbed his eyes, and shook his head. Schiller, who was squatting on the ground, looked up and asked him, ...do you still have cigarettes?

Yes, but you can't smoke here. Eddie bent down, helped Schiller up, and said, I'll take you back to the nursing home, doctor, there's everything...

Schiller bent over, stood there panting heavily, and the cold air he exhaled covered his glasses with a layer of white mist. He took off his glasses and said, No, I won't go back, I won't go anywhere ...

Eddie looked Schiller up and down, and knew that something must have happened to him, so Eddie said, Okay, how about you go to my house? At least it's warmer than here, and there's smoke...

Schiller didn't object, so Eddie helped him and walked to a building in a residential area not far from this block.

Climb to the third floor and open the door of the room at the end of the corridor. Eddie opened the door with one hand and helped Schiller in with the other.

As soon as Schiller walked in, he slumped on the sofa in the living room, looking unimpressive. Eddie lit a cigarette for him again, and then his eyes fell on his coat that was soaked at the edge because of the snow. .

Eddie picked up his coat, put it in the laundry basket next to him, and said to Schiller, Dr. Schiller, take off your coat, and I'll wash it for you...by the way, your coat should be washable. Bar?

Schiller was too busy smoking a cigarette and completely ignored him. Eddie could only sigh, stepped forward, and took off Schiller's coat like he was playing with an inflexible puppet, and threw it into the laundry basket as well. .

Seeing that Schiller's condition was stable, Eddie took the laundry basket and came to the washing machine on the balcony.

He first picked up his jacket, took out his pocket, and threw it into the washing machine, then picked up Schiller's coat, subconsciously put his hand into the pocket, and then realized that his actions seemed a little impolite .

However, the hand he reached in did touch something and felt some strange touch on his hand. Eddie pinched the thing, retracted his hand, and looked down.

It was a piece of gold and red candy paper that was neatly folded and every wrinkle smoothed out.

Schiller bad luck x

Schiller