Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1278 The Brain in a Vat Paradox (Second Update)

The more the emperor discovered his place in history, the calmer his mind became.

As Viktor von Dum comforted him after he told the Regent about his discovery, sometimes things are just like that. Accept the destiny given by "The One," complete your life's journey while continuing the struggle, rather than falling into the abyss of nihilism. "If someone claims you are Attila, then you are Attila. I think the joke of choking to death on a nosebleed in your sleep is a good idea for me. I'm a joker, don't you think?"

Mordo simply stared wide-eyed, his face contorted with rage, offering no answer. "He used a gun!" the Kamar-Taj apprentice instructor gritted his teeth, his voice dripping with rage. "Despicable traitor, shameful coward! If he hadn't used a gun, he could never have beaten me fair and square!"

"Yes, yes, who told you to decide to fight to the death?" The Emperor nodded perfunctorily, one hand still resting on the bedside table, continuing to read by the light in Mordo's room. He used to know nothing about firearms, but now he could deduce the situation from the gunshot wound alone. "The wound is not bad, a penetrating wound, close-range shooting. The instantaneous pain and massive blood loss rendered you incapable of fighting and focused; that's where the bruise on your head comes from, isn't it? Whew… Victor went a bit too far. You need a CT scan to check for a concussion; a hematoma wouldn't be a good thing. Apprentice Stephen Strange, am I correct?"

"Absolutely not!" Mordo scoffed, unwilling to answer the humiliating question. He desperately wanted to sit up, but the lingering effects of the anesthetic prevented him from doing so. "I've already been carried back by the apprentices, and I absolutely won't be carried out again! Who treated my wounds, Stephen? Was it you?"

As the only medical professional present, Stephen Strange extended his hands, trembling slightly from nerve damage, indicating his inability to perform the procedure. "If I could still suture skin, I wouldn't be in this state," he said, glancing at the emperor sitting by the bed, his arrogance completely gone. He would never have considered working at a small clinic in the past, but now, with no hope of recovery, Stephen Strange finally began to consider lowering his expectations, at least to pay off the loan first. "I've seen your vascular suturing technique and your control over the dosage of anesthetic drugs. You're very skilled. Which medical school did you study at?"

"An illegal human experimentation medical school, learned from the cries of slaves... Ha, that's a joke. Did you think everyone was as incapable of joking as Mordo?" the Emperor said. "Actually, I don't have a medical degree, only degrees in theoretical physics and astrophysics, so I didn't know if Mordo would survive before I did it. But... look at this lucky fellow, he's still breathing, and hasn't become an idiot yet. What more could you ask for?"

"Where is that coward now! Did he run away?"

"Yes, yes, he has returned to Latvia now."

"Give me the incantation, and I will rise now!" Mordo angrily interrupted the emperor. "Traitors must die!"

The Emperor's expression suddenly turned serious and unfamiliar, sending a chill down even through the furious Mordo. "You've done what you wanted to do, and achieved the result you desired, so this matter is over," the Emperor said in a deep voice. "You cannot abandon your duty, just as Viktor von Doom could not abandon his duty. Mordo, do you understand?"

"Are you using your authority as a superior to lecture me?"

"It is the authority of the Lord of Kamar-Taj. Your duty supersedes your personal feelings. If you cannot learn to control yourself, then you need to return to the apprentice ranks and practice again. I will bring Kasirius back then to supervise you." The Emperor unceremoniously pulled out the Kimber M1911 .45 ACP caliber pistol, the very gun Victor von Doom used to wound Mordo in the thigh. "According to the procedures of Mozambique shooting and contact shooting, the first shot is for control, not for killing. If the second bullet hadn't been a dud, you would have been shot in the chest and head. I don't know if this will make you feel any better. The reason you survived is not because he showed mercy; he genuinely wanted to kill you."

Mordo immediately fell silent. "I'm sorry," he said, closing his eyes. "I got too excited."

"Very good, at least you've realized your mistake." The Emperor released the safety, pulled the trigger, and ejected the bullet. "This is a souvenir for you." He placed the bullet on the bedside table. "It's to make you understand how close you are to death; your automatic defense spells are utterly ineffective against this kind of attack."

"Really?" Stephen Strange approached after leaving Mordo's room. He glanced warily at the closed door, then lowered his voice and asked, "Was that bullet really a dud?"

"That was a practice round, and of course it was a dud after being filled with sand, since it didn't even have a primer," the Emperor casually revealed. "Don't tell Mordo, or he'll die of grief and humiliation. What a hassle, everyone seems to have personality flaws… Oh, and you, Mr. Stephen Strange. Do you have any explanation for breaking into the library and browsing forbidden books?"

The former surgical apprentice shrugged, then joked, "Can't be discovered?"

Then he could no longer laugh, because he felt the cold metal pressing against his skull. "That's the correct explanation." He heard the vibration of the gun being chambered, the slide moving back and forth, striking his skin under the spring's force. "There are never duds, you understand?"

"Okay, okay, let's calm down." Stephen Strange raised his hands in surrender. "I've already been punished, haven't I? Does Kamar-Taj really allow this to happen?"

"For apprentices with an abnormal curiosity, that's fine." He heard the sound of the hammer being switched into standby mode. "I'm starting to wonder if your brain will grow legs and run away after I shoot you and blow your skull off."

"What?"

"This is the result of reading forbidden books without any precautions. All the rules are lessons learned in blood, how could you possibly be an exception?" the Emperor said. "Now no one knows exactly how much you've read, nor does anyone know whether your consciousness is Stephen Strange or a monster disguised as Stephen Strange with all his memories. This creates a kind of objective reality—a brain in a vat. So what do you think I should do?"

"This is a metaphysical question, about memory and the soul. I've read books like this before, in medical school, just to have something to talk about with women." Stephen Strange, realizing the gravity of the situation, desperately tried to recall what he'd read in *Reason, Truth, and History*. "I swear, I am who I am now, Descartes can attest to that!"

"There is no God in this world. You've been in Kamar-Taj for so long, and you still agree with Descartes' philosophy that uses God as an argument. You haven't made any progress." The Emperor curled his lip. "Hilary Putnam will do, or Wittgenstein or G.E.M. Moore will also be fine."

"Okay, okay! How about Plato's parables of the caves!"

What's a way to test if you're a brain in a vat?

"I don't know! Do you think neurosurgeons have it easy?!" Stephen Strange exclaimed, unusually angry. "How would I know if neurons and the spinal cord have their own thoughts? My job is to repair, connect, and suture, not to think about what the meaning of that flesh and blood is!"

"So, you've proven that you are yourself, Stephen Strange."

"What? Just because I don't know the answer?"

"Yes." The emperor moved the gun away, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "If an extradimensional being were to take over your brain, that thing would definitely know the answer. You're still so stupid; you're clearly not inspired by cosmic indifference."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)