Schiller and Natasha came to the farthest ice cave. Schiller put down the chair, stretched out his hand to point to Natasha's chair surface, and then crossed the ice cave to support another chair.
Natasha sat down on the first chair and untied the tangled fishing line while saying: "Sure enough, it was right to be in a group with you, doctor. The group of people has been completely overwhelmed by the joy of the fish being hooked.
He's lost his mind and has no gentlemanly spirit."
"You have to tolerate these gentlemen who have no time to fish all year round to occasionally show their wild side." Schiller walked to the side and picked up his fishing rod, then took off his gloves and started arranging the fishing line.
Natasha seemed to be adjusting her fishing rod with lowered eyebrows, but in fact her attention was focused on Schiller's hands, especially the veins on the back of her hands that occasionally showed up when she pulled hard on the fishing line.
"Madam, what do you think about fishing and hunting?" Schiller asked while hanging the bait, as if he had found a topic at random.
"It depends on what form they are." Natasha has already hung up the bait and is fixing the boom. Her movements paused for a moment, as if recalling and said: "The beauty of fishing
It’s about waiting, and the beauty of hunting is in the chase.”
"Generally speaking, I prefer to move and take the initiative in my own hands." Natasha slightly shrugged her nose, and when she lifted her upper lip, she revealed a wild and ferocious look from her plumpness and beauty.
"In other words, chasing the smell of blood makes me excited, walking through streams and trees, finding every possible trace, and finally capturing the dying prey, dismantling them, and turning them into my own energy. It's so primitive and brutal, but
It’s an adrenaline rush.”
"Which step excites you the most, killing?"
"No." Natasha shook her head and said, "I never torture prey deliberately, and I also find the screams very harsh. I will kill them very quickly, stabbing them in the throat with a knife, and I have no interest in the corpses."
"If I have to say, as I gradually mastered their traces, I can imagine that their chances of survival are getting less and less. The power of life and death is gradually being held in my hands as I advance. This sense of control
It fascinates me.”
“Control over other people’s lives is the highest form of control,” Schiller concluded, and then went on to say: “When you hunt, the ignorant prey always has hope of survival, unaware of the approaching danger, but at a certain moment
You know he is dead at this point, and this information and class gap make you feel superior."
"Very accurate, doctor." Natasha smiled and said, "A rather violent way of obtaining pleasure. Perhaps this is why I can carry forward the name Black Widow."
"The vast majority of your prey are men?"
"There are also a very small number of women." Natasha shrugged and said, "Few of them do it because of personal hobbies, and most of them do it for mission purposes."
"Most of them are just consumables for entertainment, but there are a few that impressed me deeply."
Natasha showed a playful smile, and her eyes moved as if she was deliberately hinting at her debauched style. But since she said that, Schiller knew that what impressed her most about those people was definitely not their sex.
"Well, let's talk about fishing, doctor." Natasha took the initiative to initiate another topic.
The conversation between them was a bit like a chess game, one piece for you and one piece for me, but because it was too smooth and not as jerky as a turn-based game, it sounded like a casual chat.
"I prefer fishing to hunting." Schiller looked up at the fishing line shining in the sun and said, "The hunter understands his prey, and the fisherman understands himself."
"People often say that anglers are fighting with their own patience. Fish are never our opponents. As long as you are patient enough, they will always take the bait."
"But it often requires some exquisite philosophical thinking." Natasha proposed: "Choose the right fishing rod, choose the right bait, and you also need to have the right place at the right time."
"That's right." Schiller nodded and said: "This is the interesting thing about fishing. Everything is completed in the early stage, and when it comes to the conflict part, everything is hidden under the water. I prefer to call it
It’s civilized violence.”
"Interesting." Natasha commented on this point of view, and continued: "Isn't violence that is whitewashed by civilization not violence?"
"I wouldn't say that, but I would think that this whitewashing process transforms violence into something else. The focus is not on the bloody conflict, but on how you patiently arrange it, wait patiently, and finally get a rich harvest as expected.
That kind of indescribable excitement.”
"Doctor, you always seem to be hinting at something." Natasha looked into Schiller's eyes and said, "Are you also hiding a lot of truth under a thousand feet of these words?"
"We're all like that, aren't we?"
"But this is me accompanying you to fishing, not you accompanying me to hunting." Natasha immediately took the initiative again, and she said without giving up: "You have to be more straightforward and let me understand."
The charm of fishing, otherwise we would have to rely on Nick and Steve to brag about their catches."
"What do you want to hear?" Schiller asked.
"More views on emotion."
"But I don't provide emotional counseling."
"This is really strange." Natasha suddenly smiled brightly, squinted her eyes and looked at Schiller and said: "I have never heard any psychiatrist say that. Don't most patients do emotional counseling?
?”
Schiller pushed up his glasses again, as if trying to find a suitable position for them on the bridge of his nose, and then he had to say: "So, I'm not a doctor."
"then who are you?"
"I'm Schiller, obviously."
"Ha, yes, it's the multiple personality thing again." Natasha opened her hand and took out a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket, and said, "What do you stand for? Violence?"
"Do I look violent?" Schiller leaned back and leaned on the back of the chair, looking up at the fishing line on the top of the fishing rod that was trembling slightly in the wind.
"You look very civilized, too civilized." Natasha threw the cigarette box aside, blew out the smoke, and said, "You are even a bit too gentlemanly. If it were a former doctor, he wouldn't care.
Should I have invited him, I would have gone to help Professor Charles and the others solve their family-related confusions, or make jokes with those two guys whose minds are full of fish."
"Why do you think your previous doctor wasn't interested in you? Do you think you're not charming enough to impress me?"
The question may sound suggestive, but Natasha knows very well that Schiller is good at burying the truth under a layer of deceptive words, and not just a thousand feet deep.
The beautiful female agent tucked her red hair behind her ears and said: "The reason why he is not interested in me does not lie with me, but with himself, or rather with you."
"What's wrong with me?"
"You won't get any confusion, sadness, or anger from me that you expect to see in others. I accept everything reality gives me so straightforwardly, and I can even find some fun in it. We are the same kind of people.
, so you are not interested in me."
"What about the sexual aspect?"
"Don't be ridiculous." Natasha blew out another puff of smoke. She stared into Schiller's eyes and said, "For the craziest lunatic in the universe, the pleasure that the body can provide is not as good as those complicated plans of yours."
One ten-thousandth of the excitement that comes with completing it.”
"And now, what makes me a little uncertain is..." Natasha lowered her eyes, took out the cigarette from her mouth, put her wrist on the edge of the chair, tapped the end of the cigarette with her fingers, and shook off the ashes.
, she then said: "Some concentration that I have never felt in you is coming back, making you more like a normal person."
"Then what do I look like originally?" Schiller leaned back on the chair as if he was aroused, looking at Natasha's face and asked with interest.
"A...existence (thing)." Natasha tightened her chin slightly and said while thinking: "Like nature, it exists around me, but it is rarely realized. Everything I see about you
The surface is only a small part of the whole, and the rest is so huge that it doesn’t occupy any attention.”
"Do you think it would be better to focus on great things? Or not?" Schiller turned to pick up the thermos cup in the bag and asked casually.
"I'm not sure, but at least you look better now." Natasha pinched her chin with the knuckles of her thumb and index finger and looked at Schiller without hesitation, looking at Schiller with a look of scrutiny or even gaze.
"You allow all of us to see you again in a state other than knowing and feeling nature, and to see a person named Schiller, not an existence."
"This is not entirely a good thing, madam." Schiller unscrewed the lid of the cup and said: "When nature shows its power and you see it, it means that some kind of disaster is about to happen."
Natasha didn't look nervous at all. She flicked the ashes of her cigarette, lowered her head and pursed her lips to smile. Then she looked at Schiller with a smiling look and said: "Let's see the real you - Schiller...
Rodriguez - Disasters are nothing in comparison. The disasters that have befallen me in the past have not allowed me to see the true face of any great thing...Want a cigarette?"
Schiller saw Natasha's eyes from under her red hair. Her eyes weren't really shining, but the invitation wasn't really an invitation either. Just as he was about to speak, the top fishing line shook violently.
"The fish is hooked."
In Schiller's bedroom on the second floor of the psychological clinic in Hell's Kitchen, Luo Ji's fingers stopped on the spine of a book on the bookshelf. The name of the book was "The Complete Book of Norse Mythology".
By some strange coincidence, Luo Ji took down the book, and then discovered that this book was different from most of the books on the shelf. It was older and had more obvious signs of wear and tear.
Luo Ji opened the first page of the book, where there was a line drawing of the father of the gods holding thunder and leading the gods. Odin looked very heroic, as always.
But under the painting, the long-dried ink written this line - "A great king and a failed father, but the former is not the cause or excuse of the latter."
Luo Ji's eyelashes trembled, and her thumb pressed hard enough to leave a fingerprint on the first page. Then she quickly used magic to erase the mark, and looked up and around guiltily as if she was worried about being discovered.
Then, she turned to the next few pages and found a picture of Thor, with the same comment written on it, "He will be a great king, but he may prefer to be a good brother and father."
Luo Ji felt her heart beating like a drum. She quickly turned through a few pages, found her name, and saw a sentence on it.
"Never a great king, but she loved her brother and father more than the throne."