Shane Freak
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Chapter 1029: Astonishing Mortals (Part Six)
🕑 Added 2024-02-29 00:06:42 +0000 UTCIn DC World With Marvel Chat Group : Table of Content/Chapter List
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"Philadelphia is far from being as prosperous as New York, not to mention we're not even from Philadelphia. Our family farm is in the outskirts, and it takes half an hour to drive to the nearby town, let alone Philadelphia," Victor shook his head, then continued, "Donna's illness drained a significant amount of money from the family. After Mom and Donna passed away, holding a funeral also cost a lot. The farm's yield wasn't great, which means we couldn't even contribute to your tuition fees, leaving you with no choice but to take out loans."
"Besides the university expenses, the medical college fees are exorbitant, and we have no idea when you'll be able to repay those loans... Have you truly paid them off?" Victor hesitated to ask.
Strange stood there, momentarily stunned. Of course, he had paid off all the loans because he earned a substantial amount from the eternal life factor industry, even buying a decent house and a good car in New York.
"I've told you countless times, haven't I?! You can come and stay in New York. I've said it many times, but you just won't come!"
"Stephen!" Victor raised his voice, saying, "Even if the family can't offer you more help, we shouldn't burden you anymore. Both Eugene and I think this way!"
"The reason he refuses to seek medical treatment in New York is because he's afraid of being ridiculed for his Philadelphia accent. One year, when you came back home, you said you put in a lot of effort to get rid of that accent. If you speak with it at school, no one would even invite you to parties," Victor explained.
Strange's mouth twitched as he recalled saying such things, hastily explaining, "No, that's not what I meant... I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the Philadelphia accent, but here in New York, they just..."
"We understand," Victor said, looking into Strange's eyes. "Even when I go to the town to deliver things, those people consider me a suburbanite and are reluctant to talk to me, let alone in New York."
"People from small towns struggle in big cities; it's a widely known reason. You have no friends or relatives here, you have to study, live, and yet your family can't provide any help. Dad never says it, but he's always worried," Victor continued.
"I didn't tell you? I earned a lot of money. I remember mentioning it!" Strange interjected.
"But how much is 'a lot'?" Victor countered. "Yes, your salary is high, you're a top-notch surgeon, and you surely earn a lot of money, but what about the housing prices in New York? The cost of living here? Don't you need to get married? Don't you need to raise children here? Won't your children need to go to college and pay tuition fees? Do you want them to take out loans like you did?"
Once again, Strange was taken aback by the question. Although his current savings were sufficient to address these issues, they weren't as abundant as his perfectionist expectations.
While the idea of marriage and children wasn't even on Strange's radar at the moment, he had a bigger burden: Kamar-Taj.
The Mages of Kamar-Taj operated within normal society and required funds. Although the Solar System Development Plan would allocate some funds, it still wasn't quite enough.
Victor calculated on his own, "You work at Presbyterian Hospital, so the house can't be too far away. But space is at a premium here; even if you don't buy on Manhattan Island, going too far out isn't feasible."
"If you buy somewhere unreachable on foot, you'll need to buy a car. I've seen the cars parked in the parking lot downstairs; they're not cheap. It's not like us buying a pickup truck and driving it around in the suburbs."
"If you want to date a local girl from New York, you'll have to book restaurants, take her out for meals. The good restaurants here are ridiculously expensive, and on holidays, you'll need to give gifts..."
"I just checked the salary standards of nurses in hospital rooms and surgeons; indeed, they're high, but if used for these purposes, it's still tight. Moreover, there's the issue of preparing for children's education; private schools are expensive..."
Before Strange could respond, Victor said, "If Dad and I move in together, you can't live in a bachelor apartment anymore. At the very least, you'll need a two-bedroom house."
"Listen, Victor, these aren't issues!" Strange tried to explain earnestly. "I've earned a lot more money than you imagine. I have a big house in the most prosperous area of Manhattan, overlooking the entire New York skyline. I can take you there tonight..."
"No, Stephen, that's not the most important thing," Victor said with a frown. "Dad told me if he informed you about his condition, you would surely make arrangements for him to receive treatment at Presbyterian Hospital."
"What does that matter?" Strange asked, perplexed. "Isn't Presbyterian Hospital good enough? It's the best hospital in New York, even the entire East Coast!"
"That's precisely why he can't go," Victor said, looking into Strange's eyes. "You're not a native New Yorker. Social relationships here are unstable, and if you want to join your colleagues' circle, you have to follow New York's rules."
"If Dad and I come here, they'll know you're a farmer's son from a small town. That will make you look down upon," Victor sighed. "It's not easy to blend into circles outside your hometown. You have to pretend to be a local, forget about your less privileged background, and discuss trendy topics."
"But if you have friends and relatives from those places, you can't maintain your disguise," Victor said, looking at Strange through his raised eyebrows. "Stephen, we understand you. You don't want to break your perfect image, and we don't want to break you."
Strange was completely dumbfounded. He took a deep breath and said somewhat absurdly, "So, he'd rather endure the pain of his lungs rotting than come here???"
He stood up from his chair, pacing back and forth in the same spot with his hands spread out. "You guys are insane! You're all a bunch of lunatics! Do you...?"
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, fell silent. Victor also stood up, patting his shoulder, saying, "Dad woke up earlier. He said he didn't tell anyone he's your father, so your colleagues and nurses probably still don't know. As long as you two don't intersect..."
Strange pushed Victor's hand away, saying, "In your eyes, am I a monster who cares only about maintaining a perfect image, with no emotions, no concern for any family?"
Victor seemed somewhat confused by what he was saying. At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Then, Strange saw a hint of fear on Victor's face. He instinctively took a step back, as if looking for a place to hide.
The fear and timidity in his eye contact completely broke Strange. In a manner he would never usually do, he squatted down somewhat rudely, leaning against the nearby chair, shoulders trembling as he cried.
Schiller pushed the door open gently and walked in, then lowered his voice to Victor, "I'm his friend. You should go out first. I need to talk to him..."
Victor glanced at his elder brother, hesitated for a moment, then left the room. Schiller helped Strange up, who was now crying without regard for his image.
Schiller didn't do anything but walked to the door and locked it. He could clearly see Strange's shoulders tremble after hearing the 'click' of the lock, and then the convulsions from crying gradually weakened.
Schiller shook his head. Strange's symptoms were too typical. Due to the overly traditional family education, he lacked a sense of security to an extreme extent. His way of seeking security was to build himself up as a perfect being. As long as no one found fault, he could maintain his advantage forever.
Unlike in the comics, the Strange Schiller knew had sailed smoothly, hardly experiencing any setbacks. He was pulled into the world of the Eternal Life Factor by Schiller in a daze, then smoothly took on the role of Sorcerer Supreme due to the Cosmic Gods' Shared Wealth Project, and even gained possession of the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Later, when the Solar System Development Plan began, sorcerers under his leadership continued to overcome challenges and developed many magic energy civilian technologies, further enhancing his reputation.
He had never experienced the despair of losing a hand, never given in to self-pity and drunkenness every night, nor found a glimmer of light in despair and darkness, abandoning everything to enter the door of Buddhism.
This Strange didn't understand, but understood too much. Because he had reached such a high level now, he could understand how much ordinary people like his father and younger brother worried about the mundane struggles of everyday life.
Precisely because he had achieved fame and success, and had little to worry about, he could feel how insignificant these worries, which couldn't change anything for him, were for someone who hadn't transcended human society.
How much understanding must one have to allocate precious mental energy from already difficult lives to consider others? Furthermore, if one must endure additional pain and avoid shadows, it would be more like a saint.
Schiller spent over an hour barely calming Strange down, helping him recover from deep sobbing fits. Just as he was about to get some water, his mobile phone rang again.
"Dr. Schiller, sorry, are you okay now?" Steve's voice came from the other end. Schiller heard a slight tremor in his tone, understanding that Steve must be having an episode.
"Listen, Steve, take a deep breath, like I taught you before. Focus on something stationary, look at its details, and block out the hallucinations in front of you... Where are you right now?"
"The Avengers' base? Spider-Man is there too? Hand the phone to him... Hello? Peter? Yes, I know he's not doing well. Oh, no, don't comfort him for now. Just leave there first..."
"Listen to me, Peter, I'm a professional psychologist. Yes, find an excuse, leave there first, let Steve be alone for a while... I'll come over right away."
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Next Chapter>>Chapter 1030: World-Shaking Mundane (Part Seven)
