"Yes. I'm here to split the rent with you."
Everett nodded, but his gaze toward Strange was a little strange.
There was something he couldn't quite place.
Everett had once been a soldier. A pilot.
Back then, almost every flight was preceded by a psychological evaluation.
After leaving the military and joining the CIA, those evaluations never stopped.
Psychological training was part of the CIA curriculum itself.
It could be said that Everett's entire career had been steeped in psychology.
He wasn't unfamiliar with it at all.
In fact, he was close to a professional.
That was why he noticed it immediately.
When he said the name Stephen Strange, the man in front of him showed a very subtle emotional fluctuation.
Nostalgia?
Or sorrow?
It was faint, complex, and fleeting.
But it was enough.
Almost instantly, Everett became certain.
This man was Strange.
What puzzled him was why the other party refused to admit it.
Unable to figure it out, Everett chose not to pry.
In this day and age, who didn't have secrets?
Since Strange was hiding something, Everett wasn't foolish enough to expose himself either.
After a brief pause, Everett extended his hand.
"John Watson. Former pilot. Studied some psychology. Nice to meet you."
"John Watson?" Strange looked him over with interest. "Judging by your appearance, you weren't born in 1878. But studying psychology does suit that name."
John Watson.
An American psychologist born in 1878, deceased in 1958.
Founder of behaviorist psychology.
President of the American Psychological Association in 1915.
His research focused on behavioral theory, emotional conditioning, and animal psychology.
He believed psychology should study behavior, not consciousness.
Introspection should be abandoned.
Experiments and observation should take its place.
He applied these ideas to animals, children, even advertising.
He played a crucial role in making psychology objective.
In short, a remarkable man.
Which was why Strange was surprised.
Because through magic, he could clearly tell this man was lying.
As for why-
Strange could sense it.
This man had realized that he was lying too.
Strange shook his head and didn't dwell on it.
He smiled.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Watson. By the way, you worked for the CIA, didn't you?"
"What?" Everett froze, then frowned. "What do you know?"
"People who retire from the military and do reasonably well usually go one of four ways," Strange said calmly.
"Bodyguard. Mercenary. Police. Or government agency."
He smiled faintly.
"From your posture, disguise, and temperament, the first three don't fit. That leaves only one."
"That doesn't prove I was CIA," Everett said cautiously.
"Your clothes," Strange shrugged. "Not extravagant, but tasteful. Bodyguards wouldn't buy them. Police can't afford them. Mercenaries wouldn't bother."
He continued.
"And you're always alert. Your stance gives it away."
Strange paused.
"Even with an injury to your foot, you maintain proper posture. A gunshot wound, right? Healed well. You'll walk normally soon."
These were things Strange had learned from Noah.
Not useful in the mundane world, but invaluable for observation.
Magic sharpened his senses.
And his mind.
"Come on," Strange said, turning away. "Let's see the house."
"Wait." Everett was clearly unsettled. "That's it? We just met. You barely know me. And you think you understand me?"
Strange sighed.
"Fine. You were an Air Force pilot. A CIA agent. Recently fired. You're depressed and came to London alone."
He continued without pause.
"You have a gunshot wound on your foot. Combined with your dismissal, you failed a mission."
"For someone like you, failure alone wouldn't get you fired," Strange said.
"So you likely lost your team. Everyone died."
"That's why you're like this."
He stopped.
"As for me?"
Strange paused, then said, "You know my name. Sherlock Holmes. I'm an exorcist."
"You should've heard of the profession."
"Damn it..." Everett stared at him. "Exorcist? The kind that deals with magical creatures and mages?"
"Drop the 'legendary.'" Strange turned toward the door. "So, Mr. Watson. Shall we look at the house?"
"...Yes. Of course, Mr. Holmes."
Noah had no idea Strange had already found a roommate.
Nor that Sherlock Holmes had, by some twist of fate, truly met John Watson.
After personally escorting Wanda to Erik's place, Noah returned to his office.
Then he entered the system space.
There was no pride.
Only clarity.
Noah knew his victory over that Thanos wasn't his alone.
The universe's nature mattered. Thor and Loki mattered.
At most, he felt mild satisfaction.
Thanos was still a problem.
One Noah had been actively preparing for.
Even with the Ancient One and Allfather Odin as contingencies, Noah wasn't relaxed.
Just less tense.
After being beaten black and blue once again by the system's simulated opponent, Noah withdrew.
Slowly.
He exhaled and rubbed his head.
Dizzy.
He had reversed his own state with the Time Stone again.
This power really was like a resurrection coin.
Or a superior version of Izanagi.
At least it didn't cost him an eye.
As his understanding of time deepened, Noah discovered something.
He could now restore himself even without the Time Stone.
Of course, only once.
But once was already absurd.
At that moment, Noah finally felt it.
The feeling of becoming a "super master."
What was a super master?
An immortal existence.
No matter how hard you're beaten, you get back up.
Again.
And again.
Strictly speaking, Noah now possessed near-infinite resurrection.
As long as his magic and mental strength held.
He could even bring others back with him.
This had become his greatest foundation.
"But it has limits," Noah muttered. "Each resurrection weakens me slightly. Recovery doesn't return me to peak condition."
He rubbed his head again.
The dizziness was fading.
He sighed.
His survival ability was getting stronger and stronger.
A good thing.
Though low attack power was still a problem.
"Still," Noah shook his head, calming himself. "Better than dying instantly with no chance to fight."
He paused.
"System. You interrupted my simulation. Did you have something to say?"
He had only fought one opponent.
And lost.
The interruption hadn't been random.
The system was always eager to increase his strength.
Sometimes Noah felt that if godhood pills existed, it would shove them straight into his mouth.
"There is something I need to inform you of," the system replied mechanically.
"The fusion of the six Infinity Stone energies has been completed."
"What?" Noah's eyes lit up.
The dizziness vanished instantly.
It had been almost a month.
Every time he asked, the response was the same.
Currently fusing. Please wait.
He had almost suspected the system was stalling.
Now it was done.
"Good," Noah said immediately. "Tell me the result."
"No problem," the system replied.
"But first, there is something I must make clear to you."
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