Marvel: The Psychologist Who Stole Wanda and Gwen's Hearts!

11 p.m.

A family of three... No, wait.

A man and two women... that works too.

Either way, Lorien, Gwen, and Hela were sitting at the table having dinner. Hela was chomping away, as if taking her frustration out on the food.

Gwen and Lorien chatted happily while they ate. Partway through, Lorien noticed some rice scattered beside Hela’s bowl.

"Hela, you’re on dish duty tonight. If you make a mess, you’ll be the one cleaning it up."

Hela froze for a moment, then started eating more neatly. Gwen kept watching her with a faint smile.

I could cry from laughing. Hela really was giving it her all to make people laugh.

Lorien glanced at Gwen, suddenly recalling the day she’d left, and asked,

"Gwen, how did things go when you got back that day?"

"I didn’t run away from home, so I guess I didn’t get beaten."

At the mention, Gwen’s eyes lit up as she remembered.

"Lorien, it was so close that day! George was waiting right at the door—good thing I didn’t climb in through the window! He was about to grab my ear. I told him exactly what you told me to say, and it worked! He didn’t scold me at all, just told me to be safe and study hard!"

Not bad. Just as Lorien had expected—George trusted her because of his reputation.

But Gwen wasn’t done. She grinned, drawing it out.

"But the most important thing is—he lifted my curfew! As long as I’m not out with other people, I can come and go as I please. And if I get into a good university, he’ll even let me move out!"

So that was what she was really excited about. Fair enough—no more curfew already meant a lot more freedom. And moving out after getting into a good university? Even more freedom.

"Congratulations, Gwen." Lorien smiled and clinked his glass against hers.

"Me too." Hela lifted her glass and tapped it against theirs.

They each took a sip. Gwen, a little tipsy, looked at Hela and laughed.

"Every time I see you drinking, I feel a bit guilty. You’re too young, hehe~"

Hela shot her a disdainful look.

"Little girl, I was drinking before you were even born. Hmph~!"

Lorien chuckled at the two of them. They were hilarious. Hela really was more fun than big Hela.

As they chatted, Gwen glanced around and asked curiously,

"Where’s Wanda?"

"Wanda went to Kamar-Taj to learn magic," Lorien said, still eating. "She won’t be back for a while."

Gwen’s eyes brightened. "When did she leave?"

"This morning."

"Aw aw aw~"

No sooner had Lorien answered than Gwen started wolfing down her food. He looked up—yep, she was really going at it.

"What’s with you?" Lorien stared in confusion.

Gwen stayed silent, keeping the mystery.

After a moment, she finished, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and stood up. Without another word, she headed for the bathroom.

"Shower!"

Lorien: !!!???

In an instant, his expression became... interesting. Ohhh, so that’s how it is. If that’s the game, I’d better eat faster too.

Under Hela’s watchful gaze, Lorien started shoveling food into his mouth. He finished in record time, didn’t even wipe his mouth, and told her,

"You can shower later, no rush."

Then, unbuttoning his shirt, he headed toward the sound of running water.

Hela: ...

"Hmph, beast!" she muttered, blushing.

A short while later—

"Hey! How’d you get in here? Hela’s outside—how are we getting to the bedroom?"

"It’s fine, we’ll just teleport."

"But the bathroom isn’t soundproof!"

"No problem, I can block the sound."

"Ah... so big!"

...

The next few days, Lorien and Gwen spent their time with Hela.

There was no other way—Gwen had school, Lorien preferred to slack off, and the only time they could both rest was on weekends. Luckily, their schedules lined up perfectly. When there was work, they got busy together. When there was rest, they enjoyed it together.

It was a good arrangement.

Meanwhile, Wanda was diligently studying magic at Kamar-Taj. Even when Lorien had free time, he didn’t go to visit her. He knew that once Wanda entered a state of deep focus, dropping by for a short while might be fine, but staying too long would make it harder for her to get back into that state.

So instead, he kept in touch through letters.

For example:

[Lorien: Wanda, how have you been lately? Are you happy? Made any new friends, or...]

Wanda always replied with enthusiasm, and it felt as though they had gone back to the old days of handwritten correspondence. The Ancient One fully approved of this approach—each letter from Lorien replenished Wanda’s energy without disrupting her concentration, which only made her progress faster. The Ancient One could clearly feel the improvement.

As for Lorien’s own days, they were spent idly running his shop. Sometimes there were customers, sometimes not.

But it didn’t matter. His "main job" was just something to pass the time, and his "side job" was something to do when he was bored. His philosophy was simple: take it easy and be happy.

"Bang bang~~"

"Come in."

The door opened, and a familiar customer from not long ago stepped into Lorien’s office—Natasha.

Today she was dressed in a leather jacket, looking sharp and cool, her hair tied with decorative bands that gave her a rock-and-roll vibe. Her expression had been neutral before entering, but once inside, it turned more troubled, and she let out a sigh.

Lorien gestured for her to sit and asked Hela to bring her a bottle of milk tea. Natasha took it, drank it down in one go, and sighed again.

Lorien didn’t even have to guess.

"There’s bad news in the Avengers, isn’t there?" he said.

"Mm." Natasha nodded, looking dejected.

As one of the original Avengers, seeing the team in its current state—especially with what had just happened—made her mood understandably low.

"Go on," Lorien prompted, motioning for her to speak.

Natasha didn’t waste words. She went straight to the point.

"Tony found out yesterday what Captain America and the Winter Soldier were up to. They uncovered a conspiracy within the United Nations. The three of them met, fought, and in the end... they broke apart. I don’t know exactly what happened or why they split, but the Avengers are now truly... divided."

Natasha’s voice carried heavy disappointment.

Lorien understood. In the past, they’d had what could be called a civil war, a split—but their bonds were still intact. The division was over issues, and once those issues were resolved, reconciliation was possible.

In other words, the earlier conflict hadn’t crossed anyone’s bottom line.

But now was different.

Tony and Cap had fallen out. The two pillars of the team had clashed beyond repair. That was a true breaking point—this time, it was a complete split. There would be no reconciliation unless the Earth faced total annihilation... and even then, what would be the point?

The Avengers were gone, not just in name, but in spirit.

That was the real reason for Natasha’s despair.

Lorien thought for a moment before asking—

"Did Tony tell you the reason?"

Natasha shook her head. "No."

Figures. No wonder she was feeling down—if even one of the Avengers’ original members didn’t know why they’d split, how could she not be depressed?

The truth was, Tony hadn’t said anything because he didn’t want to badmouth Cap in front of others. It was their private matter, and there was no need for outsiders to weigh in.

Lorien understood that perfectly well, but it wasn’t exactly something you could just say outright.

"Hmm..." He thought for a moment, organized his words, then said,

"Natasha, you should realize that if neither Tony nor Cap told you the reason, it means this isn’t about official business—it’s personal between them.

Since it’s personal, that means a bottom line was crossed, but no fundamental principle was violated. When a real crisis comes, they’ll still fight side by side. That’s principle.

As for the falling-out... well, it’s already happened. It’s like a night of passion—no matter how much you want to, you can’t pretend the next day that it never happened."

Natasha nodded along to the first part, fully agreeing.

A bottom line is a bottom line, and principles are principles—two separate things. You might stop being friends, but you can still save the world together.

In other words, if it can’t be undone, there’s no point trying to fix it.

But Lorien’s last remark caught her off guard. His sudden change in tone made her blink in surprise, and once she processed it, she couldn’t help but laugh.

"You’re impossible..."

Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but afterward she felt much lighter. She let out a long breath.

"Su, you really are a friend to women. Every woman I’ve seen talk to you ends up feeling better—Wanda, me..."

"What? How can you say that?" Lorien immediately denied the charge. "Didn’t Tony and Stephen also get better? And Bruce Banner."

"Banner!" Natasha perked up at the name. "Right, and now we have no idea where he is."

"No need to worry about him," Lorien said with a smile. "If he runs into trouble, Hulk will come out and smash everything."

"That’s true."

And just like that, today’s special guest—Miss Natasha—had her troubles eased.

This time, the problem was mostly in her head: the Avengers’ true split, plus the unknown reason behind it, had left her feeling useless.

But really, it was one of those problems that was neither huge nor trivial—just something that couldn’t be undone.

So there was no point in tormenting herself over it.

"Sip~"

Natasha took a slow drink of her milk tea. Whatever crossed her mind, it made her give Lorien a faint, knowing smile.

"?"

Lorien raised an eyebrow. He could already tell this troublesome woman was about to pull something.

Sure enough, Natasha’s fingers slid up to the zipper of her leather jacket’s collar. She leaned in slightly and asked in a low voice,

"Guess if what’s underneath is the same as yesterday?"

Tch. How vulgar.

If he actually guessed, wouldn’t that make him look like a total pervert?

So instead, Lorien turned his head, thought for a second, and gave a light cough.

"Last night, I had Gwen wear the same outfit as you."

"!!!"

Natasha froze.

His meaning was obvious: No matter how sexy she dressed, he could always get Gwen to wear the same thing and spend the whole night "dueling" with her. What good was her outfit if he couldn’t taste it? But Gwen—now that he could.

Why would he ignore the meat already at his lips to go drool over something he might never get?

In short: Don’t waste your tricks on me.

That took the wind right out of Natasha’s sails. Wolves without meat are already hard to handle—why would a well-fed wolf fall for a bait-and-switch?

She slowly unzipped her jacket, revealing a wide expanse of snow-white skin, then pulled out a bank card and slapped it on the table. The zipper stayed down as she waited for him to swipe it.

"Ahem."

Lorien took the pleasantly warm card and slid it through the reader. Once the transaction was done, he sighed with regret.

"Tsk. Why doesn’t it break now, of all times?"

He glanced at her.

Natasha’s lips curved in a smile. She straightened her posture, leaned closer, and asked,

"Not broken? Let me take a look."

The two of them studied the perfectly fine card reader together. Natasha still hadn’t zipped up, and Lorien’s eyes felt like they were being hit by a flash—no, more like standing under a blazing white spotlight.

After a while, they reached their conclusion.

"Ahem. It’s not broken."

Natasha took her card back, slid it away, and smiled with sultry charm.

"William Shakespeare once said, ’A thousand readers will have a thousand Hamlets.’ Do you agree?"

"I do." Lorien nodded without hesitation.

Even if two people wore the exact same outfit, their essence made them different. That was the point Natasha wanted to make. Lorien hadn’t understood at first, but now—

You’re right. Absolutely right.

Seeing him agree, Natasha nodded in satisfaction, stood, and waved.

"I’m heading out. Goodbye. It’s rare to get a day off—I’m going to go enjoy it."

Lorien stood to see her off. "Goodbye. Stay safe."

He knew what she meant—she was leaving the door open for them to hang out later—but he already had plans with Gwen this afternoon, so he didn’t take the hint.

...

Once Natasha was gone, it was already 4:30 in the afternoon.

"Mm~~~"

Lorien stretched lazily, then walked to the floor-to-ceiling window behind him, gazing out over the sea.

Hela was still deep into her game, utterly engrossed. She had a thing for bloody, hack-and-slash titles—completely in her element. As long as the killing was satisfying, she could go at it all day, switching up methods and never getting bored.

Even so, she glanced over at Lorien and asked,

"Strange, why isn’t that old bastard Odin coming down to check things out? His Destroyer Armor’s gone."

Lorien finished his stretch and chuckled. "You actually want him to come down?"

"Nope." Hela shook her head like a rattle drum. "I haven’t played enough yet. We can talk after I’m done."

"..."

Lorien eyed her. Great. Looked like he was raising an internet-addicted loli.

At 5 p.m. sharp, he headed out to check in.

He hadn’t checked his rewards in a while, preferring to save them up—he figured the good stuff only dropped in bulk.

"Beep~"

His phone buzzed with a text. He glanced at the screen.

[Wanda: The New York Sanctum Sanctorum has been attacked. I’m here right now. Are you coming, Lorien?]

...

(70 Chapters Ahead)

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