After suturing the wound, Shiller rewrapped it for Stark and found a relatively clean jacket to put on him, letting him sleep in the bed for a while.
When Stark woke up, he took a sip of water; the first thing he said was, "I know you think it's childish, I know if I don't sell, soone else will. I just want them to pay a price, even if it ans I also have to pay a price."
"I need them to understand that I will resist everything at any cost, I don't want any easy profit, not any further hope, and nobody is going to make a blood-stained hangman."
Shiller sat by Stark's bed, silently watching him. eting Shiller's gaze, Stark said sowhat irritably, "Why don't you say anything? Do you have any opinions? Aren't you psychologists the best at criticizing everything?"
"I'm not a psychologist." Shiller shook his head, "And I've never cured any patient. I spend most of my ti busying with military research. I don't think you would want to hear from an accomplice."
"You..." Stark was choked up again, after a few seconds of silence, he asked, "So, you only killed the mastermind?"
"Perhaps, there were too many, I can't rember."
Shiller walked away for a bit, ca back with a tal military flask, and used warm water to clean the skin around Stark's wound.
"What are you planning to do next?" Stark asked.
"I will continue to observe your wound. When they deliver food later, I will ask them when they can get enough drugs, but don't hope too much, they can't even tell the difference between ibuprofen and fentanyl."
"I was talking about the long run." Stark gestured to suggest a length, "You have to leave here eventually, right?"
"Why should I leave?"
Stark didn't know how to answer that question. Then he rembered what Shiller had told him about his past. He lowered his hand to rest on the tal rail on either side, "You have to leave here, to experience the life you've never had, to enjoy the prosperity of civilized society."
"Then to be hunted down by the Federal Bureau of Investigation?"
"You can testify against their illegal human experints, illegal imprisonnt. You are a victim."
"You know I'm not, the subjects in the experints I participated in were the real victims, not ."
"If I had a moral compass," Shiller said with a sigh, "I wouldn't have been comfortable helping them carry out those illegal experints. But I don't have one, so this, to , is also a way of life."
"But you could have lived differently." Stark moved his body a little, but was held still by Shiller. He raised his voice for emphasis, "If you hadn't been experinted on as a child, you could have gone to school like a normal child, then you would have had a life as happy as any ordinary person!"
"In which case, I might have ended up being a helpless test subject in an illegal human experint, rather than the one who could escape."
Stark banged a tal bar beside him with his hand; he sighed deeply, "Okay, there are too many problems with this country and society, but I will try to change it. Can't you be a little more optimistic?"
"I believe in you." Shiller picked up the flask, got an old down jacket from the side, and covered Stark with it.
Then, he picked up the burnt charcoal from the fire pit, put it in a worn-out stainless steel basin, and placed it under Stark's bed. The charcoal was almost burnt out, not very hot, but it could deliver a stable warmth, making Stark feel warm.
His eyelids were fighting against sleep, yet he insisted on winning the argunt, mumbling, "You have to do more than believe, you have to see it all, witness succeeding in changing everything, sincerely believe that life can get better, that's what you need to do."
"Yes, I will. You should get so sleep now."
Stark fell asleep, but his mind did not. He couldn't bear anyone's perfunctory words.
Eventually, Stark had a long-lost dream of saving the world, where he used his advanced tech to make everyone live happily on Earth.
He dread of Shiller leaving the cave, returning to civilization, re-earning his psychology license, becoming Stark Group's psychological advisor, and gaining worldwide fa for curing Tony Stark's anxiety disorder.
The sudden noise made Stark squint his eyes, trying to cover his eyes with his hand. He heard so local dialect he couldn't understand being repeated, mixed with Shiller's gentler-toned voice.
So unknown ti later, Stark slled sothing fragrant. The feeling of emptiness in his stomach forced him to open his eyes; he saw Shiller toasting bread on a fire grill.
Seeing Stark wake up, Shiller walked over. He helped Stark sit up, then asked him, "Can you walk?"
"My back is injured, not my legs. Let go of , I can walk by myself."
But Shiller still helped him walk over to the fire. Only then did Stark realize that it wasn't bread on the grill, but a thick piece of bread-like flatbread.
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