Strange’s Happy Life (Part 1)

New York, on a clear morning, not even seven o’clock yet, the streets of Manhattan were already bustling. Wall Street elites in suits carried reports as they walked, rattling off a torrent of technical terms into their phones. The boss of a coffee shop was struggling to move a magazine rack to the entrance, while the drive-through line at a fast-food restaurant stretched long. Vehicles of every kind flowed nose to tail like parts on an assembly line, sunlight glinting off rearview mirrors and glass skyscraper facades.

Summer was nearly over, but iced coffee never went off the market. Outside the sanatorium on the corner, quite a few young people had gathered to drink coffee and read magazines. Schiller leaned against a lamppost by the sanatorium gates, coffee in one hand and a phone in the other.

"…Yes, I did forget, but I’m the director. You can’t leave the director locked outside the sanatorium, can you?"

"You said you were busy. What could you possibly be busy with? Didn’t you finish handing over your resignation paperwork from Presbyterian Hospital ages ago? It’s been months. Other than the sanatorium, what work do you even have?"

"You became a specially appointed doctor at Presbyterian Hospital? Hey, you went out and found a side job without getting approval from me, the director?… You couldn’t find me? Does that make you right? The contract clearly states…"

"Fine, fine, I know you have professional ambitions. Stop worrying about all that and bring me the keys…"

"A crazy home intruder came looking for you? Just like me? I’m not… Then why didn’t you call the police? Don’t know 911’s number?"

"Who? A bald woman in yellow? Then never mind. You can take the day off. Bye!"

"Oh, one last thing. You’d better be polite to her. Come to work alive tomorrow!"

As soon as Schiller finished speaking, he swiftly hung up. He took a sip of coffee and happily thought, I just got back to Marvel and already heard good news. What a great start.

At that moment, in Strange’s apartment, The Ancient One waved her hand. Starlike points of light swirled around her, while an endless starry sky seemed to spread behind her.

Strange stared at it all in shock. In an instant, the magical radiance vanished again. Apart from The Ancient One’s robes fluttering slightly, it was as if nothing had happened. The Ancient One looked at Strange and asked, "What do you think?"

Strange’s mouth hung open, too stunned to answer. It was not as though he had never seen Schiller use magic before, but Schiller had only ever floated a ballpoint pen or something similar. How could that compare to a spectacle like the universe descending before him?

Little did he know, The Ancient One was sighing inwardly as well. Things had developed far beyond her expectations.

It all began with the so-called descent of the Bat God.

The so-called Bat God Guardian sent over by the Morlun Family had actually been nothing more than a shameless stowaway, no different from a rat sneaking through a hole.

With Odin and The Ancient One around, Earth was not a place just anyone could visit. When Odin lost his temper, he would chop up even the Symbiote God without hesitation. As for The Ancient One, she either spent every day beating up debtors or was on her way to beat up debtors.

The Demon Gods that launched grand invasions through the front door were chopped into dumpling filling. Those who entered through the side door were pounded into even finer dumpling filling. Most of the rest had learned their lesson. Though they drooled over this place, no one dared act rashly.

But with both the front and side doors blocked, there would always be someone who did not mind getting dirty and loved crawling through rat holes.

Throughout Earth’s long history, rituals to summon evil gods had existed for ages.

Back in the era before the title of Sorcerer Supreme even existed, when humans had only just formed tribes, emerged from a life of raw meat and animal skins, and begun building civilization, many tribes had shamans and priests who used witchcraft to communicate with the world.

Most of it was merely psychological comfort, but a small portion of them did manage to find the real thing.

At the time, tribal shamans used rituals to summon a portion of an evil god’s power to Earth, trading living sacrifices for wicked power to attack other tribes.

Some evil gods left behind their marks and exclusive passages, making it easier for their followers to summon them.

After The Ancient One became Sorcerer Supreme, she had spent no small effort patching up these loopholes and dealing with such historical leftovers. The Demon Gods daring enough to do such things had all paid for their youthful recklessness and become fertilizer for Earth’s defense system.

Although The Ancient One had tracked down and killed most of the careless Demon Gods, some cunning ones had hidden their passages well. Even after several rounds of magical crackdowns, a few fish still slipped through the net.

The vampires had used one such forgotten passage.

That race lived a long time and could always get their hands on strange things. In some ancient books of witchcraft, they had found a way to communicate with the universe.

The ignorant feared nothing. They directly sent out a signal into deep space, and a member of the Morlun Family happened to be hunting in this part of the universe. Like a hound catching the scent of blood, he rapidly locked onto the location.

He silently arrived on Earth through that stowaway passage and intended to hunt Spider-Man amid the chaos.

Everything about the story had remained normal up to that point, until that enormous Venom Bat rose into the sky. After communicating with certain higher mysterious powers, The Ancient One received the answer that a new Beast Totem was being born.

Naturally, she became busy. If a new Beast Totem was truly about to be born in this universe, then The Ancient One, Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme, had plenty to prepare for, such as collecting debts, chopping dumpling filling, and launching a new magical crackdown.

In short, once that major incident ended, The Ancient One became the busiest person of all.

This led to a problem. During that brief period, she had no time to keep an eye on her future successor, Strange. Or rather, once The Ancient One got busy, she simply forgot about him altogether.

Who could have expected that in such a short time, Strange’s life would undergo a tremendous change?

The most obvious and influential change was that he became rich overnight.

Strange had not exactly been poor before. As one of the world’s best neurosurgeons, he earned a considerable income. But clearly, earning a fixed salary could never compare to making money through less conventional means.

Ever since he became the medical consultant for the Stark-Osborn United Pharmaceutical Group, gave speeches worldwide about the effects of the Immortality Factor, and used his status as an elite doctor to endorse the mysterious drug, Strange suddenly discovered that it seemed as though the entire world was desperately trying to stuff money into his hands.

Stark and Osborn would pay him a huge sum as salary. Beyond that, S.H.I.E.L.D. would pay him compensation, the sanatorium paid him as well, and none of those were even his main sources of income.

There were plenty of people in the world so poor that all they had left was money. Middle Eastern tycoons sitting atop black gold, Far Eastern oligarchs with total control over public finances, monopoly magnates in certain industries—did they truly not know the Immortality Factor was partly hype? Not necessarily.

They were simply too rich. Even if they spent money only to hear a sound, as long as it sounded nice, they were willing.

Under those circumstances, they were willing to pay a fortune for a top doctor to tell them every day, "It works." Even if it only had a placebo effect, it did not matter. Money was just a number to them.

In such a situation, the price offered by even one of them was enough to leave Strange dizzy for a long time.

And Strange really had been knocked senseless by money.

At his core, Strange was not an innately good person like Peter Parker. His high standards for his profession were also largely because his professional ability could bring him generous rewards, prestige, and status. That was only human nature.

But his sudden wealth almost instantly shattered his understanding of money. Strange suddenly realized that money was not actually compensation for labor. He had done no real work at all. He merely acted as a recording device repeating a few sentences, then went to lavish banquets to eat and drink, exchanged a few words with the richest people in the world, and money flew into his pocket on its own.

Strange realized that the way the world economy operated seemed to be a scam from the start. After jumping from a victim being scammed to a scammer, he suddenly stopped being so conflicted about it.

After all, being rich was truly enjoyable.

So, when The Ancient One finally found time to check on Strange after finishing a period of work, she discovered that Strange seemed to have let go of something.

Just as she was about to investigate what had happened during that time, another problem tied up her hands. The person in charge of the New York Sanctum was wailing and begging for a transfer, so The Ancient One had no choice but to comfort the apprentices and figure out how to reconnect the Sanctum’s Wi-Fi.

But she had not expected that a quantitative accumulation of money could produce a qualitative change.

Before long, Pepper finished handling the important transfer of power within Stark Industries and began restructuring the businesses related to the Immortality Factor. She established the Immortality Factor Foundation, and Strange naturally became one of its members.

When you received shares in such an important industry, everything changed.

Simply put, he had gone from an employee to a capitalist overnight.

Whether Strange truly possessed a heart that could not be corrupted by wealth and luxury, even he did not know. But The Ancient One, returning after finishing her work, clearly thought he did not.

After the Sorcerer Supreme returned, she discovered that things were racing headlong in an entirely wrong direction.

Due to Schiller’s absence, Strange had become an indispensable figure in the professional field of the entire Immortality Factor industry. His importance kept rising, and he had even reached a decisive position. He had gained public credibility in the medical side of the Immortality Factor, and thus the final authority to interpret it.

That meant that within this industry, he had become as important as Stark and Osborn. To reinforce that credibility, the Osborn Group planned to open a company for him to raise the professional standards of United Pharmaceutical. Before The Ancient One came looking for him, the process of starting the company was nearly complete.

This future Sorcerer Supreme was about to set off down the road of capitalism with no return.

But The Ancient One knew that if Strange truly became a capitalist of equal importance to Stark or Osborn, holding the lifeline of an industry, then neither Car Accidents nor the death of an important loved one would free him from the entanglements of worldly fame and profit and send him seeking the mystical arts.

Even if he wanted to do so, those who could profit from him would never permit it.

For example, if Stark now wanted to abandon everything and become a monk, the first person to panic would be the US President—and his blood pressure would rise through the roof.

Once those people became involved, matters would become very troublesome. During her many years as Sorcerer Supreme, The Ancient One had followed a policy of noninterference. Now, Strange’s future was tied to the Immortality Factor industry, which was tied to Stark Industries, the Osborn Group, S.H.I.E.L.D., the military, and Congress. She did not want conflict with so many forces over the matter of her successor.

At the same time, The Ancient One strongly doubted whether Strange, with his current willpower and character, could truly avoid being corrupted by money.

What if he really became an utterly evil capitalist, spending every day sprawled atop piles of money, drowning in luxury, and charging headlong down the path of effortless gain and indulgence? What then? She could not exactly chop him into dumpling filling too, could she?

Things had reached this point, so in order to prevent her favored successor from hurling himself into the embrace of capital without looking back, The Ancient One decided to handle this as a special case. The steps of those tests could be skipped for now. Making sure Strange did not go astray was more important.

Thus, on the same morning Schiller was locked outside the sanatorium because he had forgotten his keys, Strange truly came to understand the world of magic for the first time through The Ancient One, and received an invitation to study abroad at Kamar-Taj.

That was right, an invitation to study abroad, not some act of mercy where she took him in as a disciple.

After all, the current situation was not Strange begging everyone he could find to cure his illness. The Ancient One had taken the initiative because she recognized Strange’s talent and did not want worldly fame and fortune to blind him. Naturally, the invitation was much more polite.

Furthermore, The Ancient One knew Strange could not simply leave everything behind under these circumstances. Too many people depended on him to make money. If she simply took him away, the Wi-Fi cable that had just been reconnected at the Sanctum would probably be dug up again.

So the Sorcerer Supreme was very open-minded about it. Strange could commute, for example, taking a Sanctum portal after work to attend a few hours of class, then returning in the morning.

The Ancient One also told Strange to think about it for two days before answering. After all, she needed time to consider what level of Car Accidents would be necessary to make him turn over a new leaf if he refused.

When Strange came to work that afternoon, he was still in a daze. The magic The Ancient One had displayed had clearly shocked him even more.

Floating a ballpoint pen like Schiller did was not something unheard of in stage magic. Compared to real magic, it looked more like a trick.

But The Ancient One was the genuine Sorcerer Supreme. Every movement of hers had been honed through countless Demon Gods chopped into dumpling filling. When a master made a move, let alone an ordinary person like Strange who had spent the first half of his life studying science, even the world’s most creative magician would be intimidated by the boundless magical power emanating from her.

"Does everything we do really have any meaning?" Strange sat at his desk and asked with vacant eyes. "I spent so many years learning knowledge and techniques, but that magic… they only need to wave a hand to accomplish all of it…"

Strange lowered his head and looked at his fingers. Pointing at one of them, he said, "When I was cutting vegetables before, I cut my finger. The wound was right here…"

"Then she waved her hand, and the wound healed. No medical technology, no medicine, no doctors…"

"So what is the meaning of human medicine? What is the meaning of my existence?"

"A patient could just lie in bed, find a group of magicians to wave their hands at him, and then I could get lost. There would be no need for a ten-hour surgery, no need for post-operative recovery…"

Strange spread his hands. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Then he asked Schiller in utter confusion, "You’re all in this together, right? You people who can use magic—what do you think ordinary people are? Do you think we’re stupid and ridiculous? Spending decades learning knowledge and honing skills, only to end up…"

He gave a self-mocking laugh and said, "Like a bunch of ants running in circles in the mud, right?"

"Then why don’t you try it for yourself?" Schiller sat across from him and said. "Go see whether magic is really as simple and easy as you imagine."

"What could be easier than waving a hand? It makes no sense at all." Strange sighed, covering his forehead. "Ever since I was young, I knew there were people in this world who could easily obtain things you could never get in your entire life."

"They never have to put in any effort. It is only because they are lucky. This world was never fair."

"But…" He paused before continuing, "the degree of unfairness still surpassed my imagination."

Strange smiled, but it looked exceedingly difficult. He said, "Now it seems those rich people are nothing but fools being kept in the dark too. That is the only good news I heard today."

"Do you know how Stark sees magic?"

Strange looked at Schiller. He wanted to say that he did not care what that annoying guy Stark thought, but he truly wanted to know how people who already stood at the pinnacle of ordinary humanity, who possessed the greatest fame and fortune in the world, viewed such supernatural things.

"During the vampire invasion, he considered this question too. The immortality, even eternal life, that ordinary people dreamed of was something those big bats were born with. They were incredibly strong and possessed Superhuman Strength. Even well-trained ordinary people had to band together to handle one of them. It seemed terribly unfair, like a joke from a biased creator."

"But later, he thought about it and realized that this kind of thing had happened millions of years ago. In the ancient savage era, human bodies could not compare to the beasts with sharp claws and fangs. Yet in the end, we survived to this day and built such a prosperous civilization."

"But this is different." Strange pointed out the flaw in that argument. "Magicians are still humans, not beasts. They have every advantage humans have. They are intelligent, capable of thought, and able to pass things on."

"And she told me they are organized as well. Like ordinary people, they form groups, divide labor, and cooperate. They have every advantage ordinary humans possess, plus magic…"

"Then why haven’t they ruled humanity? Or rather, why had you never heard of them before in your previous life? Why would such a superior and powerful group not step into public view and lead humanity toward even greater glory?"

Strange fell silent. Schiller said to him, "Perhaps one possibility is that their abilities truly are completely superior to those of ordinary people. They are nobler than us and would not use those abilities to enslave ordinary people."

"But you and I both know that where humans have intelligence, they have ambition and desire. If they were truly so superior, capable of achieving in an instant what ordinary people could not achieve in decades, without paying any price, then we would certainly see brutal wars between them and ordinary people in history books."

"Humans even try to rule other humans through nationality and skin color. How much more so when it comes to a genuinely superior ability?"

"So…" Strange said hesitantly.

"So naturally, they have to pay a price." Schiller spread his hands. "If you still do not believe it, why not try it yourself?"

"I…" Strange closed his eyes. His brows furrowed, and he looked pained. Anyone would feel deeply discouraged after having the skills they had painstakingly studied for years denied.

But he had to admit that he was curious about that miraculous power.

Or rather, having encountered magic in this way, Strange felt more confusion than anything else. He wanted to know where this power came from, why it was so strong, and whether it truly had no weaknesses.

Schiller looked at Strange and thought that now, this future Sorcerer Supreme was not actively seeking magic out of an intense desire to save himself or others. Instead, on such an ordinary morning, he had learned the other half of the truth about the world.

The impact on him was immense, but the questions he considered were different. Strange still had the leisure to ponder lofty philosophical questions, rather than being like a stray dog with nowhere left to go, able only to treat magic as his sole lifeline.

The change in his social status had given Strange considerable initiative when facing The Ancient One.

Strange still had a way out. Even if he did not become Sorcerer Supreme, he could remain a happy tycoon in ordinary society. Even if he later became Sorcerer Supreme, he could still play an important role in this society.

That had also been Schiller’s goal.

Schiller had always believed that a Sorcerer Supreme completely detached from human society was not good enough. When they placed themselves in an isolated, lofty position for too long, their mentality would gradually change. They would become separated from ordinary humanity and forget that they, too, were born from this ordinary society, the root from which all things emerged.

And that could very well make them humanity’s greatest threat.

Even if Strange, like The Ancient One, could truly detach himself from the world and hold fast to his original heart, the role he played would still be too small. With the status and abilities of a Sorcerer Supreme, he could do much more.

If others did a little more, Schiller could do a little less and have more time to slack off while getting paid.

Therefore, Schiller chose a financial offensive. He used pie falling from the sky to knock Strange, the future Sorcerer Supreme, senseless, so that he would not drift too far from society.

Schiller asked Strange, "Isn’t being rich enjoyable?"

"Of course it is." Strange answered instinctively. "How could anyone with money not be happy?"

"You may think being rich is enjoyable now, but after you encounter miraculous and magnificent magic, you will discover…"

"Being rich is not enjoyable enough?"

"…You will discover that being rich is truly enjoyable."