"Exactly."
Strange agreed with the Ancient One. It seemed the bald woman before him wasn't some quack after all. But what she said next completely overturned his impression of her.
"What if I told you your body can restore itself in all kinds of ways—would you believe me?"
"You've developed cellular regeneration?!"
Strange was stunned. This was a medical breakthrough that the world hadn't even managed to theorize yet—someone had actually succeeded in researching it?!
His attention remained fixed on the Ancient One, completely unaware that not far from him stood a young man and woman, each holding a teacup and quietly sipping—it was the very tea from the table.
"That would be an incredibly advanced project. So you're researching here because there's no oversight from any medical association? You can experiment however you like?"
Strange grew excited. Cellular regeneration could treat the vast majority of human illnesses—his hands would be nothing in comparison.
"May I ask how far this treatment has progressed?"
He looked at the Ancient One with eager anticipation, like a child who had just heard there might be candy, his eyes shining.
"It's… alright, I suppose~~~ But it's not any kind of cellular regeneration. The method I know involves using your soul to heal your body."
The Ancient One spoke in a rather mystical tone. In Western countries, the soul was often regarded as a form of energy—since it was energy, it could theoretically grant the body extraordinary abilities.
After hearing this, Strange froze as if his mind had crashed. He couldn't find the words to respond. He was a doctor, a staunch materialist. He had never believed in the existence of a soul. If souls were real, he should have seen them easily in operating rooms—or even in the morgue. But he had never seen a single one.
"The soul… healing the body?"
Strange's eyes widened. The person before him now seemed more and more like a fraud. He wanted to turn and leave, but his body wouldn't move—the living example of that man with a spine broken into four sections kept flashing through his mind.
"F-fine… Where do we start?"
Strange forced himself to stay. To heal himself, he was willing to try anything. All he wanted was to fix his hands and stand at the operating table again.
At that moment, Wanda waved her hand, and a book instantly appeared in her grasp. She flipped it open and walked toward Strange.
The sudden appearance of another person startled him so badly he nearly jumped. He was certain no one had been standing there just moments ago—yet now there were two!
His gaze fell on the open page in Wanda's hands. It was a diagram—a chart of human acupuncture points. He was familiar with it. Though trained in Western medicine, he still had some understanding of meridians and acupoints.
"Your method is acupuncture? Sorry, I've already tried that. It can relieve symptoms, but it can't cure anything."
Strange had already exhausted acupuncture as a treatment. He had spent his entire fortune traveling the world, trying every possible method, all to no avail.
Wanda and the Ancient One said nothing, simply continuing to flip through the pages.
"Fine~~ I spent everything I had on a plane ticket to come here for treatment, and now you're telling me it depends on some vague belief system? Are you kidding me?!"
As he spoke, Strange reached out to snatch the book from Wanda's hands—but before his fingers could touch it, a surge of scarlet energy blasted him backward.
"Do you see now? All this time, you've been like someone peering at a leopard through a tube. The only difference is that your tube is slightly larger than others'. But now, your tube has been torn open. Your field of vision has expanded beyond imagination—and yet you choose not to see."
The Ancient One didn't react to Strange's rudeness. She knew he couldn't accept this yet. In time, he would understand.
"I choose not to see because I don't believe in souls or faith! None of that exists in this world!"
Strange lashed out angrily, venting everything he had bottled up. He had wandered Kathmandu for months, only to end up with bedtime stories about belief and souls.
Suddenly, the Ancient One grabbed him and struck his chest with her palm.
Strange fell backward. Time seemed to freeze. In front of him, he saw… himself, still leaning backward. If that was him, then who was he?
Looking down, he saw that his body had become semi-transparent, faintly glowing. He could clearly see everything about himself.
It was as if a door to a new world had opened. Before he could even react, he saw the young man step forward and catch his falling body. The moment his body was steadied—
Strange snapped back into it.
"What did you just do to me?!"
he demanded.
"I merely pushed your soul out of your body."
The Ancient One withdrew her hand and spoke calmly.
"What did you put in the tea? Did you drug me?"
Strange immediately assumed the tea had been tampered with. Tricks like this were cheap—common methods used by cults for brainwashing.
Karl rolled his eyes. He couldn't understand Strange's way of thinking. Even someone as materialistic as Tony had accepted magic after witnessing it—but Strange was as stubborn as a rock.
"You just entered a soul state. Everything you saw was real."
the Ancient One explained. But Strange still refused to believe it, forcing her to continue:
"When the soul leaves the body, everything around you feels slow… almost frozen. I believe you just experienced that."
Strange remained unconvinced, still fixated on the idea that he had been drugged.
Seeing this, Wanda lost her patience. The Chaos Magic within her surged outward. In the blink of an eye, she blasted Strange's soul out of his body once more, and a thread of scarlet energy immediately entered his astral form.
Strange felt like he was on a roller coaster. The scenery before his eyes shifted rapidly—one moment he was flying out of Earth, the next he was dragged into a fantastical realm. He even found himself in a microscopic world… and then in the Quantum Realm.
Just as he was about to black out from the overwhelming experience, his soul was suddenly yanked back into his body.
Wanda showed no gentleness like she had with Karl. Once she sensed his soul reaching its limit, she grabbed it and shoved it back in without hesitation.
Strange looked around frantically like a madman. His face was filled with terror, his pupils dilated—he had been thoroughly shaken.
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