Shiller hesitated for a second in the corridor, then turned towards the direction of the library he rembered. He had just rounded a corner when a girl leaning against the windowsill greeted him.
"Hey, Shiller," the blonde said with a smile, "Are you going to the football party next week? Renee asked to invite you, you know."
Shiller didn't recognize the girl, but he knew he should have, and it was obvious from now on, the backstory had to be filled in with details, and what he hadn't forgotten was, according to the setup that Superego had written for him, he had quite a few admirers at university.
"Sorry, I'm always busy on weekends, I've already made plans with the Father," Shiller said with a slight smile and then looked at the girl again.
"Oh, no, you're just being shy. I promised her I'd definitely call you over... Well, I know she's a bit hasty, but what if I invited you?"
"I really appreciate your kindness, but I indeed have an appointnt made well in advance, which is why I need to rush to the library now to get this week's assignnts done. How's your little assignnt going?"
The girl seed quite pleased with Shiller's concern, saying, "It's so-so, Professor Walter doesn't like much, so he's not pressing . But you, you are Professor Bailey's star pupil, it must be a lot of pressure for you."
Shiller stepped aside slightly and started walking toward the staircase, the girl followed him, touching the pen in her pocket, and continued downstairs behind Shiller, saying, "He should give you so personal ti."
"So I don't let down all this kindness? Alright, you can't be fooled by anything, can you, ma'am? I've been indeed having so trouble lately, it's personal, and I might not have much ti for the next few weeks."
After the girl stopped, she said, "Of course, I understand, it seems like you're not just looking to be an ordinary psychologist, maybe we'll bump into each other in the stands at a football ga?"
"I hope so, too. No one can say that an encounter with you isn't a romantic journey. Say hello to Renee for ."
"I will, goodbye."
Shiller smiled at her, turned around, and went downstairs. As he took a step towards the main door, he felt an unfriendly gaze.
Turning his head, he saw Strange's face and nodded at him before walking away briskly.
Shiller walked quickly towards the library. It was noon, and many people were heading to the library after lunch. He blended into the crowd without standing out and reached the library untroubled, finding a seat by the window.
Shiller didn't bring a computer, and mobile phones of the era were not so smart. He could only pretend to read a book while asking Ultron through his glasses if there had been any cases around Manhattan recently.
The internet of this era wasn't well-developed, and there weren't caras everywhere. Ultron needed to access a lot of devices to look up so information, so there was silence on the other end of the conversation.
Shiller wasn't in a hurry. He randomly picked up a novel to read, when suddenly a figure passed by in his peripheral vision. Shiller didn't look up but could tell from the figure and manner of walking that it was Stephen Strange.
The frequency of Strange's appearances was too high. Shiller knew sothing wasn't right. Strange was a genius with an almost photographic mory. If they had already had so many interactions in this era, it was impossible for them to have the kind of relationship they had 20 years later.
Despite only being a backdrop, Shiller was certain, even according to the persona Superego had written for him, that he couldn't have been at such odds with an acquaintance over 20 years of acquaintance unless they were actually strangers.
Seeing a figure pass by again, a slight smile curled the corners of Shiller's mouth. It seed like he found sothing amusing in the novel he held, but it was more akin to seeing a cunning fish circling the bait, back and forth, as if looking for the right angle to bite and avoid getting caught.
Under Shiller's full engagent, he was indeed captivated by the plotline in "The Count of Monte Cristo," which he was reading. Although he had read it before, the book was a rare exciting classic, with crisp and efficient plot setups, and a satisfying 'couppance' storyline, perfect for venting stress.
The worn appearance of the book suggested that there was too much stress to relieve in dical school.
A figure sat down in front of Shiller, that familiar gaze reappearing. Shiller didn't look up, pretending soone had chosen to share the table and sit here.
The other person clearly had communication issues. The movents of the fingers Shiller glimpsed in his peripheral vision indicated that the person hadn't expected Shiller to remain silent, never imagining he would have to initiate a conversation.
Shiller eventually looked up, seeing as the person was a future acquaintance, and asked Strange, "Do you need sothing, classmate?"
Strange pursed his lips, blinking rapidly, with two fingers extended but tucked inward. Seated, his lower half was slightly tilted, as if he didn't want to face Shiller fully.
"Too anxious," Shiller said, removing his glasses to rub his eyes, hoping Ultron would soon bring him so good news. He was almost overwheld by Strange's internal noise.
"I'm very curious," Strange said quickly, looking at Shiller.
"Curious about what?"
"Why are you so popular?" Strange's lips didn't move in sync with the enunciation, they seed to do whatever they wanted, but his speech was clear and fast, "I don't understand, it's puzzling."
"Do I look like a very unpopular person?" Shiller asked Strange with a puzzled look.
He saw Strange's eyes quickly size him up, then shake his head and say, "No, but you're just not annoying, not as popular as you are."
"I completely understand that you don't harbor feelings of jealousy," Shiller said. "You're not a jealous offender filled with offensive psychology."
"Right, I'm not," Strange quickly nodded, "I just want to know why."
"But first you have to tell , in what aspect do you think I am popular? Is it my relationship with classmates and teachers, or with the opposite sex?"
"With the opposite sex."
Strange's answer totally caught Shiller off guard, but he still said with an unchanged expression, "Most n like to display their aggressiveness, always making others feel they are powerful and intimidating, believing the opposite sex will fancy such traits in them."
"Isn't that the case?"
"That's more about attracting hormones, but what really draws your rational, genius brain, making you believe it's good, worth entrusting your life to, is profound knowledge, stable emotions, or witty and humorous conversation."
A look of disappointnt crept across Strange's face; this was clearly a very common answer. Shiller didn't want to withhold the truth, but no matter what, he couldn't explain that this was just a rule written into the cosmos, a perverse twist of one of his personality traits.
But Shiller was indeed popular; whenever he wanted, he could make everyone flock to him. The slight negative connotation in this adjective was the real essence. He didn't shy away from describing his suitors as greedy vultures; that was exactly his intention—the ones attracted to him were never the good people.
"Are you blaming for not telling you the truth?" Shiller looked at Strange and asked, "Do I have that responsibility?"
"No, you don't," Strange shook his head and said, "The fact that you're still sitting here is the utmost courtesy already."
"You don't seem as tense anymore, sir," Shiller looked down at the book in his hands. The two pages of the story were becoming dull, which left him with little interest to continue reading, so he followed up by saying, "Do you have soone of the opposite sex you're interested in? Are you seeking advice on how to be liked by the opposite sex from ?"
"Yes." Suddenly, Strange hesitated again. He turned his head to one side as if he wasn't really looking at anything. He just didn't want to look at Shiller in front of him.
"Is he one of my suitors?"
Strange seed to suddenly burst out. He pursed his lips until they lost color, turned his body stiffly around, and with what could be described as a fierce gaze, he stared at Shiller and said, "I just don't understand..."
"You clearly have no jealousy, you haven't placed the bla on , which is quite surprising because many people see their lovers as flawless and should be completely devoted to them. If there's any mishap, it must be soone else's fault."
"But you don't think so, you push the mistake onto the person of the opposite sex you like, yet you don't bla . You even admire a bit, thinking that I attracted soone's attention because I've mastered certain skills. You don't even think these skills are sinful."
Strange leaned back in his upper body and brought his two hands on the table together.
"You want to learn from , believing that if you also mastered this ability, you wouldn't be inferior to , so that you could also gain so people's attention." Shiller tilted his head slightly and stared at Strange as he said, "This is indeed strange. Your emotional process is abnormal."
"Don't analyze !"
"Oh, sorry, my nose just hurt a bit," Shiller said sothing seemingly irrelevant but then put on the glasses he had taken off earlier. Under the reflection of the glasses, no one could see his eyes clearly.
"You think that what moves people is not emotion but technique, you don't consider your liked one's happiness as your own happiness, and you can't even empathize with her. You only have the desire to obtain and possess her, so you ca to , not to ask what exactly she likes about , but to ask how I managed to get her attention."
"You'd make a fine psychologist," Strange's tone was very cold, making all words of praise sound like sarcasm.
"That's far from enough," Shiller said. "Can you tell who she is? Soone from the cheerleading squad?"
"Renee Hobbs," Strange said.
"What I'm using isn't a healthy technique."
"I only care if it's professional enough."
"No professional terminology can define it, just for personally, it still works pretty well," Shiller said with a smile.
"So what exactly is it?" Strange leaned forward and asked.
"Don't see yourself as a kidnapper."
"What?"
"See yourself as a hostage, then cultivate a kidnapper."
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