Spider-Man’s Great Wisdom (Part One)

"Hello, Dr. Ethan. This is Dr. Connors. You two should have plenty in common," Schiller introduced Ethan.

"Hello." Ethan shook Connors’s hand, and Schiller continued, "If I remember correctly, you both taught at the University of California, didn’t you?"

"Oh, yes, that’s right." Ethan said, "I taught physics at the University of California for half a year. That was quite a few years ago."

"More or less the same for me, except I was a Visiting Professor, so I taught for less time. And you know, biology wasn’t very highly regarded back then…"

"Do you remember those little punks causing such a huge mess at that graduation party?"

"Oh! You mean those people from the Onion Club? Of course I remember. Those sheep ran wild around the school for three or four days. I heard Professor Old Frank even got kicked in the ass by them. Hahahahahaha…"

The group chatted for a while as Schiller subtly guided the conversation. Before long, Ethan said with a sigh, "That really was a near-death experience, wasn’t it?"

"…They didn’t have any advanced methods for disposing of bodies. I went into shock, so they casually tossed me into a mass grave. Luckily, a kind corpse collector noticed that I seemed to still be alive and dragged me out. Later, Stark sent people to find my body so he could bury me, and that was when they discovered I was still alive…"

"And thanks to him, too. That place lacked both doctors and medicine. If Stark hadn’t sent people back for me, I probably wouldn’t have lasted another two days."

Dr. Connors shook his head and said, "Why would a perfectly good professor like you go to a place like that? Afghanistan is practically a graveyard. Even regular troops don’t come out of there unscathed."

Ethan sighed. "There was originally a confidentiality agreement, but there’s nothing left to hide now. It had something to do with a military project."

Connors’s fingers tightened. He glanced at Schiller, who exchanged a look with him before clearing his throat. "Coincidentally, we recently discovered a military human experimentation project as well…"

"That doesn’t matter anymore," Ethan said. "I did everything I could to stop the inhumane parts of it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been abandoned alone in that hellhole."

They continued talking, and Schiller gradually learned from Ethan the full story of how he had survived that disaster.

Ethan was a physicist. He had apparently gone to Afghanistan under military escort for a secret experiment, but something went wrong midway through. Ethan seemed to have tampered with something, causing certain experiments to fail. When the military withdrew, he was left behind alone in Afghanistan, and soon afterward, he was captured by the group that had captured Iron Man.

That group heard that Ethan was a doctor of physics and wanted him to build weapons for them as well. What followed was the plot of Iron Man 1, except Ethan had not died in the end. He had escaped by sheer luck.

That answered one of Schiller’s questions. Logically speaking, Stark’s desire to shut down the weapons division should have been very strong. Yet this Stark had changed his mind after only a little persuasion. Schiller knew he was only a psychologist, not God. How could Stark have changed his mind so easily?

The reason was that the stimulation Stark had received lacked the crucial event of Dr. Ethan’s death. Stark had reflected on the fact that the weapons he made might harm more people, but he had not become as obsessive as he had in the original story. That was why Schiller only needed to persuade him a little for him to change his mind. Otherwise, no matter how much anyone talked, Stark would never have turned back.

Schiller briefly told Ethan about what had recently happened with Stark. Ethan was somewhat moved, but in the end, he said, "No matter what, the uncle who raised him never died. He isn’t alone. He still has family, and that’s a good thing. People need something to hold on to, or else they may fall into despair and be unable to turn back."

The three continued chatting in the psychology clinic. They actually had many topics in common, since they had roughly similar levels of education and many similar experiences.

If one counted it up, the three were even alumni of sorts. Dr. Connors had three doctoral degrees, while Ethan and Schiller each had two. They had also taught at many different schools, and there were always one or two institutions they had in common. Talking about such experiences always gave them plenty to discuss.

After a while, the clinic door clicked softly, and Peter entered with his backpack. The moment he came in, he was intimidated by the aura of academic excellence in the room. "Uh, did I come at a bad time? I’ll come back later…"

Before he could slip away, Dr. Connors stood up, pulled him over, and put an arm around his shoulders. "Look, look at this talented kid of ours. Ethan, this is Peter. He’s still in high school, but when he interned in my lab, he performed exceptionally well. He was no worse than any graduate student I’ve supervised."

"Peter, this is Dr. Ethan…"

"Hello, Dr. Ethan."

Just as Peter greeted him, Steve walked in as well, holding a hot dog. He had not met Connors before, so Schiller introduced them. "This is Dr. Connors, who holds doctorates in medicine, pharmacology, and biology. Dr. Ethan holds doctorates in mathematics and physics. As for me, you should already know—I hold doctorates in psychology and philosophy."

Steve opened his mouth, then gently nudged Peter’s arm with his elbow. "There are seven doctorates in this room right now, right?"

"There are only five of us."

"On average, each of us has more than one." Steve winked at Peter, who smiled as well and whispered, "Someday, I’ll get two too. No, I’ll get three doctoral degrees. Then the five of us will have ten doctorates, averaging two each."

"Then I’ll have two doctorates too. Well, Thank you very much."

The two of them leaned together and laughed.

After they sat down, as usually happened during conversations, the topic gradually shifted to the youngest person present. Ethan asked Peter, "Have you decided what field you want to pursue in the future? Which university do you plan to apply to?"

"I haven’t really decided yet." Peter said shyly, "Even though my grades are pretty good now, I’m not very confident about applying to those top universities. There are just too many people with good grades…"

"Don’t worry. We can write you recommendation letters. Of course, you’ll still have to work hard yourself. Otherwise, even if you get into a university, graduating will be difficult."

"You’re underestimating him too much," Dr. Connors said. "When he interned under me, the talent he showed was absolutely among the very best. Forget university—I think he could go straight into graduate school right now without much trouble."

"Oh, don’t say that, Doctor! I still have a long way to go."

Connors noticed Peter’s lack of confidence. He was not being modest; he genuinely seemed to have little faith in himself.

He gave Schiller a look, and the two went up to the roof to smoke. Schiller said, "Peter’s family circumstances were poor before, and he was heavily excluded at school. Even though his grades were decent, he had to worry every day about college tuition. His uncle is a good man, but an ordinary one…"

"I understand. It’s that again. I’ve seen plenty of students like that. Most of them lack confidence."

"Peter’s problem is more serious. You know, he’s Spider-Man. He has placed all his hopes of realizing his self-worth on his superhero identity. We’ve all been trying to correct that, encouraging him to be Peter Parker more often. But you know how it is—he suddenly gained such great power, and he can use it to help others. Of course he would do that."

Schiller said, "You can’t explain too many grand principles to someone his age, nor can you use professional knowledge to make them understand the balance between two identities. Their self-control isn’t that strong. Whichever identity gives him the greater sense of accomplishment is the one he’ll rely on more."

"That’s such a shame. I don’t want him to become someone who only swings around and fights street thugs. He’s incredibly gifted and intelligent. He could achieve much more."

As they spoke, Schiller noticed a plume of smoke rising in the distance. Then a tall figure appeared. Schiller narrowed his eyes and looked carefully, realizing it seemed to be some kind of monster.

Schiller put out his cigarette, threw it onto the ground, and crushed it beneath his foot. Then he said, "Let’s go back first. Something’s happened."

The moment he reached the first floor, Stark called. "A monster has appeared in the East District. Go ask Dr. Connors whether he has any ideas."

"Dr. Connors? Why ask Dr. Connors?"

"Because that monster looks a lot like an iguana. I figured iguanas and lizards are in the same family, right?"

At that moment, Dr. Connors was also looking through binoculars at the distant scene. The creature leaping wildly through the city was a fiery red monster. Unlike an ordinary lizard, it looked more like an iguana, with the distinctive spikes of an iguana on its arms and head, rougher skin, and layers of throat sacs beneath its neck.

Dr. Connors cursed, lowered his binoculars, grabbed his coat, and prepared to leave. Peter hurried over and grabbed him. "Doctor! Where are you going?"

"To the lab at Stark Tower. Oh, right, Schiller! Tell him to grant me access. This is very likely a product of that military project. I need to find a way to deal with this problem."

"No. We might pass through the affected area on the way from here to Stark Tower. You’re just an ordinary person. Let me take you there."

"How are you planning to take me? Have me swing through the air like you? That stupid monster would definitely chase after us and bite us."

Connors put on his coat and strode out of the clinic. Peter followed behind him, and when Connors reached his car, he said, "Come on, get in."

Peter immediately climbed into the passenger seat.

But he regretted it very quickly, because he had forgotten that Dr. Connors, like Steve, was a veteran.

By the time the car reached the entrance of Stark Tower, Peter was crouched on the ground beside the bumper, nearly vomiting.

The destruction caused by that monster had not merely failed to reach them—it could not even see their taillights.

Dr. Connors said, "Back when I still had both hands, I could drive a car more than ten kilometers under the bombardment of six bombers. That thing is nowhere near enough."

After he said that, a thumbs-up slowly extended from in front of the car’s engine.