Ch: 476-483
476. The Doctor Who is Sometimes Clear and Sometimes Confused
Kan Shu Net.
That's right.
A freshly baked scumbag!
Locke is very sensitive to auras, especially since he can remember the appearance, voice, and aura of anyone he has ever come into contact with.
George had showered.
But... auras are not that easy to wash away.
Locard's exchange principle is absolutely correct: there is a transfer of matter between objects after contact. For most people, this transfer of matter is tangible.
But for Locke, even if this transfer of matter is intangible, he can still perceive it.
Just like George now... Although George had showered and even changed into a new set of clothes, there was still a faint, almost imperceptible scent of another person on him, a scent that even Gwen probably wouldn't recognize.
A woman's aura.
And it was the aura of a woman who existed in Locke's database.
Ms. Patty Finn.
Roughly judging by the lingering scent, even if George hadn't had skin-to-skin contact with Patty Finn, he had definitely had close physical contact.
Scumbag!
Helen is so gentle and virtuous, yet you could do such a thing.
I despise you.
Locke glanced at George.
Coincidentally.
George also looked at Locke, then, seeing Locke's inexplicable gaze, he was slightly taken aback.
The next second.
George cleared his throat and looked directly at the approaching waiter, no longer looking at Locke.
In Locke's opinion, this was a sign of a guilty conscience!
Tsk tsk.
Indeed.
Unexpectedly, George, with his thick eyebrows and big eyes, still couldn't escape the conclusion that 'a man with power turns bad'.
Alas!
What should I do?
Locke fell into deep thought.
Should I directly expose George to Helen?
That's possible.
But... besides Gwen, the Stacy family also has three background characters, plus little Andy, who is only one year old this year. Locke doesn't care about the three background characters at all, but Locke and Gwen did take care of little Andy for a while.
If Helen and George were to have a falling out, little Andy would suffer the most.
And Helen.
Helen has been tirelessly devoted to the Stacy family. Let's put it this way, if Helen dared to say she was the best wife and mother in the Federation, no one would object.
Because Locke would voluntarily help to throw anyone who objected into the sea to reclaim land.
Never mind, never mind.
Locke thought to himself, skin-to-skin contact is a home run, close physical contact, at most, can only be considered that the two of them once hugged, at worst, it can only prove that George, this old man, made it to second base or something, it doesn't prove anything else.
Moreover... Locke didn't have any concrete evidence. If he spoke rashly, it would be fine if George admitted it, but if he didn't, it could lead to a big crisis.
But... no, there must be a sense of crisis.
Locke raised an eyebrow. Although he also had a good impression of Ms. Patty Finn, if he had to choose between Patty Finn and Helen, without a doubt, Locke would firmly stand on Helen's side.
If he had to choose between George and Helen, then Locke would still stand with Helen.
As everyone knows.
George has always disliked him, and since that's the case, Locke has no intention of trying to curry favor.
I'll find a private detective when I get back!
Hmm.
Follow George, take pictures of George. If there's nothing, it's just a false alarm, at most, a little loss of excitement. If there is something, then it's preparing for a rainy day. In the future, when George really becomes a scumbag, those photos can help Helen win any lawsuit.
At that time, with the top legal team at TNT Law Firm, in a divorce lawsuit, let alone the house, car, money, and Andy, even George's heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys could be split in half.
Hmm.
I'll find a private detective later. If there's something, prepare for a rainy day; if not, it's a false alarm.
No problem.
After Locke figured this out, he temporarily put the matter on the back burner and focused on the grand meal, which was said to cost five hundred US dollars per table.
From this level of consumption, it was clear that Helen was truly happy.
Her husband was promoted.
Her daughter and son-in-law had won another Grand Slam. It was estimated that starting tomorrow, the calls from universities would constantly ring again, trying to poach Gwen with even greater and more generous offers.
After all, if they got Gwen, it would definitely be a buy one, get one free deal.
So, Helen was very happy, even drinking a whole jin of red wine by herself.
She had an impressive capacity for alcohol.
Locke was astonished. He raised his vodka, which he had poured into a clear glass, and clinked it with Helen, drinking with her: "That's amazing, Helen. I never knew you had such a good tolerance for alcohol."
Helen laughed: "Not anymore. When I was at NYU, that's when I was really good."
Who hasn't had a wild youth?
However, Helen knew what age to be wild and what age to settle down. So, after marrying George, Helen gradually said goodbye to her wild past.
Gu / Next to them.
George, who was drinking ice water, watched his wife and Locke chatting animatedly, and shook his head, a little speechless.
George didn't drink today. After all, he had just taken over three sub-precincts, and he had entered a completely new state ten days ago. He couldn't say he was flying around busy, but he could say he was constantly on the go.
Drinking?
How could George, who had just started his career, upheld the belief of impartial law enforcement, toiled for over twenty years with great ambitions, and now finally had the opportunity to realize his aspirations, possibly drink?
Such things could wait until he retired, then, looking at the peaceful and harmonious New Saint City, leaning back in a lounge chair, watching the beautiful sunset, he would have plenty of time to drink.
"I am a disciplined Deputy Chief."
George thought to himself.
Gwen didn't drink either, after all, she wasn't twenty-one yet.
And... Gwen was also looking at Locke, who was listening intently to her mother Helen tell stories about her college days, stories she had heard countless times. Then, she thought of something and whispered: "Dad, are there any leads on Dr. Connors?"
The past month had been entirely dedicated to preparing for the knowledge competition, and she had been doing practice questions almost every day until she felt sick, even her exercise was pitifully little, so she had no time to pay attention to other things.
Today, she could finally relax.
Although there was still the student council's knowledge competition platform next month, she and Locke only planned to win the team championship and didn't intend to play in the solo mode.
After all... if she took all the prizes herself, it would be called self-entertainment, which would go against the original intention of Locke establishing this student council knowledge competition platform.
At least, that's what Gwen thought.
George looked up and glanced at Gwen: "Didn't Director Maria Hill tell you? I remember you said you had called her."
Gwen said: "I only called ten days ago."
It was still the same old line.
"Still actively searching."
But... it had been over a month. Even with a carpet search, they should have found him by now.
"It's not that easy."
George listened to Gwen's suggestion, shook his head, looked at the peaceful restaurant, and then looked at Gwen, saying: "New York City only knows that the crisis has disappeared. If we search so ostentatiously, it will once again plunge New York City into panic."
Gwen frowned: "But what if Dr. Connors, who is not in his right mind, leaves New York?"
Dr. Connors was very dangerous right now.
But... Gwen felt that there was still a chance to save him.
"I plan to go to the Osborn Bio-Industrial Lab tomorrow."
"What?"
"I participated in Dr. Connors's entire experiment. Dr. Connors's mental confusion was only caused by the imbalance of gamma rays and lizard serum. If I can find a way to neutralize it, maybe I can create an antidote to restore Dr. Connors's consciousness."
"...Really?"
"I think so."
"..."
George looked at his daughter's serious face, shook his head, and sighed: "Actually, five days ago, Homeland Security found Dr. Connors."
Gwen's eyes lit up.
George whispered: "At that time, Dr. Connors attacked a chemical factory in the Queens suburbs. By the time Homeland Security arrived, several machines inside the chemical factory were missing."
Gwen was slightly stunned.
The next second.
Gwen said: "So, Dr. Connors's consciousness has cleared?"
A lizard monster with only instincts wouldn't be able to use chemical equipment. If Dr. Connors stole chemical equipment, there could only be one purpose: Dr. Connors realized his own problem and was trying to find a solution.
But... "That's not right!"
Gwen frowned: "Since the doctor realized his problem, why didn't he come back for help?"
As she spoke.
Before George could say anything, Gwen suddenly mumbled to herself: "I know, it must be that the doctor's consciousness is sometimes clear and sometimes confused. So, in order not to let the lizard harm innocent people when he's confused, he's been hiding, trying to develop an antidote on his own, right, Dad?"
George was stunned. He looked at Gwen, whose face was full of certainty that this was the case, remained silent for a while, then nodded.
Just then.
"Boom!"
"Ah!"
"..."
George instantly snapped back to reality, turned his head to look outside the restaurant, then quickly stood up and walked out.
Locke, who was talking to Helen and listening intently to her various interesting stories from college, also raised an eyebrow at this moment, looked up, and glanced at Gwen next to him, saying: "I'll go out and take a look."
As he spoke.
Locke immediately stood up and followed George out of the restaurant.
In his sight.
Across the road.
The anti-theft glass of a precision instrument shop, which had already closed for the night, had shattered. In the light, he could see a very terrifying creature moving something inside...
477. The Antidote for Lizard Serum
"Connors?"
"Dr. Connors?"
Locke and George ran out of the restaurant. Facing the crowd of well-trained people who immediately ran in the opposite direction after hearing abnormal noises, they looked across the street. When their eyes fell on the massive figure in the shop filled with precision instruments, they instantly knew who it was.
It was Dr. Curt Connors, who had unfortunately turned into Dr. Lizard because of that exotic visitor, the Black Spider.
George subconsciously reached for his waist.
Then... he felt nothing.
Locke glanced at George.
"Where's your gun?"
"...I left it in the closet."
"Getting complacent?"
"Hmm?"
Locke looked at George with some curiosity. "Before you were promoted to deputy director, you never left home without your gun. What, now that you're deputy director, you don't even carry a gun anymore?"
Goodfellas.
I gave you a demon-slaying gun, but it wasn't for you to just leave it there, or even worship it like a mascot... wait.
Hold on.
Locke was suddenly stunned. If George wasn't carrying a gun, it meant he wouldn't be doing field work. If he wasn't doing field work, it meant the probability of him appearing on the streets would decrease. This meant... the Peerless Assassin could come out and play?
Locke raised an eyebrow!
There was no other way. He hadn't been in any lawsuits recently, so these days, his accounts only showed money going out and none coming in. But don't forget, Locke received dividends from the Family Fund every year.
They were called dividends, but in reality, it was a secure way to launder the money earned by the Peerless Assassin so Locke could use it legally and reasonably.
And on the Family Fund's side, the capital had already decreased.
If there was no income this year, he feared there wouldn't even be dividends at the end of the year.
So... Locke had been planning since the beginning of this year that it was time for the Peerless Assassinto take a few jobs. After all, if he didn't appear for a long time, the Continental Hotel might freeze the Peerless Assassin's account to prevent outsiders from directly using it to enter the hotel.
It wasn't easy.
Locke felt a bit emotional. For two years, he had been calculating how to keep George from provoking the Peerless Assassin, lest he lose his life for nothing. After all, once the Peerless Assassin got angry, even Locke couldn't control him.
After all, Locke was very refined and easy-going, but the Peerless Assassin was simple and crude.
And now?
George didn't even carry his service weapon. This showed that Locke's efforts had finally paid off.
Locke's mood suddenly improved. With a flick of his right hand, he handed another Glock 17 to George. "Here."
George was slightly taken aback and looked at Locke.
"You brought a gun?"
"I'm carrying it so I can protect Gwen and Helen at a moment's notice. After all, between the two of us, at least one should be armed, right?"
"..."
George felt those words were a bit odd, but he didn't think too much of it. He told Locke to stay put, then with a click, he chambered a round and ran toward the precision instrument shop across the street.
Locke snorted in amusement.
Stay put?
No one could tell him what to do!
"Dr. Connors!"
"Roar!"
Inside the precision instrument shop, Dr. Lizard, who seemed to have a bit of a temper and was dragging a long lizard tail, suddenly heard someone calling his name. He let out a violent roar, then with a series of crashes, he knocked over a row of expensive shelves. He glared with his lizard eyes at George, who had already reached the window. "Roar!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa..."
George held his gun in one hand and raised the other to show he was harmless. "Doctor, it's me, George. George Stacy. Remember? From the NYPD. Gwen Stacy's father. Your assistant, Gwen Stacy's father."
"Gwen?"
A hint of confusion flashed in Dr. Lizard's eyes, but he seemed instinctively able to sense that Gwen Stacy was not a threat; she was even someone he cared about. Thus, the ferocious expression on his face gradually softened.
But... as Dr. Lizard watched George, who intended to step over the window frame and come inside, he let out another roar: "Roar!"
It seemed like a warning to George not to cross the line.
George immediately stopped.
His expression was sincere.
"Doctor, I can help you."
"Dr. Connors, we can help you."
"Let us help you, alright?"
If this were the Black Spider, George wouldn't waste words; he would have just shot it dead in short order. But although the Dr. Lizard before him didn't look very pleasant either...
Dr. Connors was innocent, and after he had turned into Dr. Lizard, he had even saved them.
Toward criminal suspects, George had always dealt heavy blows.
But toward a savior, George truly believed in repaying kindness with gratitude. Just like with Locke, since the beginning of this year, George hadn't had the traffic department specifically target Locke's driving to see if he was driving under the influence.
It was that same saying.
George seemed impersonal, but he was actually the most sentimental person.
Therefore, when George said these words, he was very sincere.
Evidently.
Dr. Lizard also seemed to feel the sincerity in George's words. Although he was still growling low like a husky, the volume was lower than before.
"Gwen... Gwen..."
Dr. Lizard's eyes were filled with confusion as he looked up and stared at George. "My... my assistant!"
George nodded. "Yes, Gwen. Gwen Stacy, your assistant. Remember, Doctor? I once visited you to ask for advice on some matters."
The confusion in Dr. Lizard's eyes swirled, then he looked at George. "I... I... need help, Gwen's..."
George continued to nod. "Of course, we will help you. Anything, as long as it helps you."
Just then.
Dr. Lizard suddenly shook his large head.
The next second.
Dr. Lizard looked up with a snap. "Leave quickly."
These words were perfectly articulated!
George was slightly stunned.
Locke, who had followed behind and was watching from not far away, raised an eyebrow. He stepped forward in three strides, grabbed George's right shoulder, and pulled George toward him.
Just then.
Boom!
Inside the precision instrument shop, a shelf was thrown out like a cannonball following a roar, crashing with a boom.
Locke let out a cold snort in a voice inaudible to George!
"Hmph!"
"..."
Once again, the lizard instinct that had taken over Dr. Connors seemed to be driven by animal laws under that cold snort. With a jolt, he turned around and dove into the hole leading to the sewers.
In a few swift movements, he disappeared without a trace once more.
"Dad!"
Gwen had also run over from across the street by now.
Not far away, police cars with sirens blaring arrived at the scene just in time.
However, as usual, they were late once again.
Dr. Lizard had already escaped into the sewers again.
Inside the shop, everything was in a mess, as if a tornado had passed through. A large pile of electronic components was scattered on the floor.
"Conservative estimate, a million in losses?"
"..."
Gwen, who was watching from outside the shop with Helen, heard Locke speak and asked curiously, "How do you know?"
Locke raised his right hand and pointed to a middle-aged bald man crying his heart out outside the police cordon not far away. "That crying is worth a million. Also, he's probably the type who couldn't bear to buy insurance."
Gwen looked in the direction Locke was pointing.
She saw it.
A middle-aged bald man there, crying his heart out, wailing loudly.
Then... Gwen agreed with Locke's guess and nodded.
After all, if this shop owner had bought insurance, he shouldn't be crying right now; he should be laughing out loud.
Because insurance wouldn't just compensate him for all his losses, it would likely cover the damaged shop as well.
But... Gwen shook her head. "Insurance is very expensive."
Locke nodded. "Yes, but I've always felt it's better to be safe than sorry. Having insurance provides protection."
Preparing for a rainy day.
Just like when Locke went on the poseidon last time. If he hadn't bought insurance then, he would have had to bear all those losses himself.
And the result?
He had bought insurance, and then, while he couldn't say he made a pure profit, he certainly made a killing.
Just then.
George walked out of the shop. "Gwen."
Gwen's eyes lit up as she looked at the approaching George. "Dad, did you find anything?"
George shook his head, then handed a somewhat tattered book that looked like it had been in a trash can to Gwen. "Dr. Connors probably left this behind. Take a look, can you understand it?"
"What?"
Gwen was slightly stunned. She took the notebook and flipped it open.
Locke also leaned in to take a look.
What he saw...
The notebook was filled with dense writing.
All sorts of chemical formulas and symbols.
One look confirmed it.
This is something I don't like.
Locke thought to himself and dutifully withdrew his gaze. Although with his current level of knowledge he could understand it, this stuff looked like a book from heaven before you knew it, and once you did, looking at it too much would make your head swell.
Besides.
Locke only unlocked knowledge skills to farm points.
Let's put it this way.
If there were a better way to farm points, Locke would definitely not earn points through studying.
Gwen, however, was engrossed.
From her initial motionless posture to flipping the pages, then flipping through page after page, the surprised smile on Gwen's face gradually became more radiant.
After a while.
Gwen looked up, her face full of surprise and joy.
"Dad!"
"Hmm?"
"Do you know..."
Gwen excitedly raised the notebook in her hand. "Do you know what this is?"
George seriously suspected his daughter was looking down on him, a mere man of action!
Gwen didn't seem to expect George to answer anyway.
She was full of excitement!
"The complete formula for the Lizard Serum!"
"Or rather!"
"The antidote!"
478
Four hundred seventy-eight: Dr. Connor's Cry for Help
Yes.
The antidote!
To be precise, the notebook contains the complete formula for manufacturing a human-restoration serum from start to finish.
"My God!"
"Doctor, that's incredible."
Back at Starlight Tower, after a shower, Gwen hurried to the study and reopened Dr. Connor's notebook, gasping in amazement every few moments.
Locke walked in carrying a spray bottle of disinfectant.
Then… *pfft-pfft!*
"…"
Gwen looked up, blinking at the notebook now misted with disinfectant in Locke's hand. "What are you doing?"
"Sanitizing it."
Locke was deadpan. "Darling, sewers are crawling with viruses."
As he spoke,
Locke flipped his hand and offered her a surgical mask. "Safer if you wear this…"
Gwen: "…"
Locke didn't object to Gwen obsessing over the human-restoration serum—or to her desire to save Dr.Connor.
Put it this way: if he'd objected, back then he wouldn't have merely snorted and scared off the instinct-driven Connor; he'd have turned the Lizard Doctor to ash on the spot.
But… the man had saved Gwen.
Locke keeps a clear ledger of debts and grudges; since the Lizard Doctor had once rescued Gwen, Locke would never punch him into the afterlife.
Frankly, Locke had considered easing the Lizard Doctor's misery as thanks for saving Gwen.
However, he'd been swamped, and ever since the business with The Weaver Miles ended, Gwen had kept him on a short leash all month—plus schoolwork—so he'd had the intention but no time.
Now?
Locke had just tracked Connor's scent—and again lost the urge.
Simple reason: while Locke isn't a neat-freak, he avoids filthy places, foremost among them so-called African-American neighborhoods.
He absolutely refuses to set foot there, won't even go near them.
Next on the list: the sewers.
Much of New York's sewer system is clean enough to ride a horse through, but parts are unspeakably foul—especially the stretches beneath those neighborhoods.
Down there, even if Locke wanted to help Connor, he'd be powerless.
Looks like it won't be necessary, though.
After a while,
Gwen, evidently finished with Connor's notebook, pushed open the bedroom door and climbed onto the bed where Locke lay reading the latest Doctor Who.
She got under the covers.
"I'm going to Osborn Biologics tomorrow."
"Mm."
"The equations in Connor's notebook look different from the old ones; I want to use the lab gear and see if I can synthesize it."
"Okay."
Locke glanced at her. "Need help?"
Gwen shook her head, then seemed to remember something. "Do you know where Dr. Connor is?"
Locke shrugged. "No idea."
He was telling the truth—he only knew where Connor's scent had last lingered, not what the place was called.
Gwen rested her chin on her arms, studying him.
Locke smiled back at her.
After a moment:
"I'll find proof."
"Really?"
"I will."
"I'm looking forward to it."
Locke's mouth curved; he rolled and pinned her beneath him. "But I'm more looking forward to this."
The next second Gwen yelped, then burst into giggles.
On the bed, chaos reigned.
The next day,
Oscorp Bio-Industrial Building.
A month of repairs had erased every sign of the disaster; even the Underground Room was fixed.
The speed? Not fast—Osborn simply paid well.
"Huh?"
"Locke?"
"Gwen."
As they stepped out of the car, Harry Osborn—suited up, hair slicked like an adult—climbed from a black sedan, delighted. "What brings you two here today?"
Since the renovation, Harry had interned at Osborn Biologics every weekend, and Norman Osborn, seeing his son mature, had begun passing the company to him, step by step.
Gwen smiled and pointed to the floor where Dr. Connor's lab was located. "I'm going to borrow Dr.Connor's lab."
Harry nodded, then remembered something. "The Military's scientists are also inside Dr. Connor's lab."
Although Dr. Connor had turned into a lizard.
And... Dr. Connor's entire research team had been wiped out.
But... that didn't mean the research would grind to a halt. No way. The Military had sunk money into it, so even though Dr. Connor was missing and his team had died in the line of duty, the Military kept its eye on the project. The very next day they brought in scientists from their own lab to take over Dr.Connor's unfinished work.
However.
Gwen wasn't worried in the least and said with a smile, "I know—it's Dr. Connor's good friend, Dr.Bruce Banner. I've already spoken with Dr. Banner."
Harry nodded, murmured "Good, then," and turned to Locke. "Locke, how about I call Mary and we all have lunch together at noon?"
Locke chuckled. "I thought you said you always eat take-out at the office on weekends."
Harry smiled. "Today's different. If Dad knows it's because of you, he'll let me off."
Locke laughed aloud. "I'm not your get-out-of-jail card!"
Harry shot him a pleading look and whispered, "Come on, help me out. I promised Mary I'd go shopping with her this afternoon, but my dad..."
After a month of training and competing, Harry hadn't exactly shed his introversion, but at least he'd loosened up a bit in front of people he saw every day—Locke and the others.
At the very least, he wasn't so quiet anymore.
Locke shrugged. "Sure—but if your date makes Osborn stock nosedive, I'll be furious."
Harry blinked. "You bought our stock?"
Locke gave a soft grunt. "Not just yours—Stark's too.
He'd bought them all.
Same old story.
With no lawsuits and no assassin gigs this year, there'd been zero income. But cutting expenses? Impossible. Not in this lifetime.
If you can't cut costs, the only option is to raise revenue.
Locke happened to recall seeing Dr. Lizard the night before.
This time, Dr. Connor almost certainly wouldn't become Dr. Lizard again. And as long as he didn't, the human-regeneration serum actually stood a chance of success.
If it worked, Osborn stock would skyrocket, right?
Besides, late last night Locke had quietly flipped through the notebook Dr. Connor left behind.
Not bad.
At the very least, he and Gwen couldn't spot any flaws in it.
So... first thing this morning, Locke called his bank manager and used half his cash to buy Osborn and Stark shares.
What?
Buy in as a shareholder?
No interest.
Playing the market was fine—buy on the upswing, short on the down.
Become a shareholder?
Are you nuts?
Working for others was out of the question, and in a way, being a shareholder was still being a wage slave—something he'd never allow himself to become.
Very soon.
Inside the lab!
The moment Gwen stepped in, she spotted Dr. Bruce Banner sitting at Dr. Connor's computer, brows knit in puzzled concentration. "Dr. Banner?"
Bruce Banner looked up, saw her, and brightened. "Gwen—perfect timing. You're finally here.
In fact, if Gwen hadn't phoned last night, Bruce Banner would've called her himself.
Put simply.
Each to his trade!
Bruce Banner was great at super-soldier serum or gamma rays, but when it came to biochemistry he wasn't just under-qualified—he was clueless.
Not merely clueless; it was like having ten holes in a board and plugging nine. One stubborn hole remained unplugged.
So Banner had thought of asking Gwen over to help fill that last gap—and last night Gwen had phoned him first.
Then... Bruce Banner politely shook hands with Locke, whom he was meeting for the third time, and turned eagerly to Gwen. "You said on the phone that Dr. Connor asked us for help?"
Gwen nodded and pulled the notebook from her backpack.
"Yes."
"Last night the Doctor left this notebook. It records the full formula for the human-regeneration serum, and some of the supplementary equations are brand-new. I think it's his cry for help."
As she spoke.
Gwen briefly told Dr. Bruce Banner what had happened the night before at the precision-instrument shop across from the restaurant...
479. Osborn's High-Stakes Entrustment
But…new data doesn't mean instant production.
At the very least, when Locke, Gwen, Harry, and Mary Jane returned to the lab after lunch, it was three in the afternoon and the place was still a hive of activity—six researchers with Military backgrounds shuttling about.
Gwen, white lab coat on, was among them.
Lounging on the sofa, nursing his fifth afternoon bourbon, Locke yawned.
Gwen walked over. "If you're bored, you can go home."
She paused.
With a sly smile: "Or you could lend a hand."
Locke raised an eyebrow. "No."
"What?"
"I'd rather be bored."
Seriously—did he study knowledge to actually use it?
Not at all.
He learned because learning earned points, period. Turning knowledge into something else? He wouldn't even entertain the thought.
In short:
Though his points came from academics, Locke cultivated his superhuman worldview through science.
I'm going to be a sun god, man!
Flesh is weak? Ascend via machine?
Sorry.
Locke isn't interested.
Gwen blinked. "Then head back. We're working while you've downed six bourbons."
Locke shook his head again, showing the first now-empty glass. "I figure I can handle ten more."
Gwen rolled her eyes.
Next second.
She gave him a flash of ponytail and hurried back to the benches.
Locke smiled at her retreating figure.
Go home?
Not happening.
He wouldn't repeat that mistake; last time he'd thought Gwen safe at Osborn Biotech, and The Weaver Miles had walked right in.
Besides.
Locke had vowed early on to be an absolute top-tier good guy.
And what screams "good guy" louder than waiting for your girl to clock out so you can shop and cook together?
Just then.
Norman Osborn's secretary—tall, black-rimmed-glasses Felicia—walked in hugging a stack of files. "Mr. Broughton."
Locke stood and shook her hand, feigning deep thought: "Ms. Felicia… if I remember right."
She smiled. "Your memory's spot-on, Mr. Broughton."
Locke grinned. "People tell me that. Even if my memory failed, I'd still recall you."
Flattery oils the wheels.
Just as he'd never snipe at George on a first visit to the Stacy home, he won't speak out of turn on Osborn turf.
Basic life principle.
After pleasantries.
Felicia invited: "Mr. Osborn heard you're still here and asked me to escort you."
Though Locke is only eighteen.
That age needs a qualifier:
An eighteen-year-old who built a two-hundred-million fortune—in cash.
Even Pepper Potts would address him formally if they weren't acquainted.
Locke lifted a brow. "Sure. I just bought some Osborn stock; chatting with Mr. Osborn will bolster my confidence in holding it."
He was bored here anyway.
He knew what Gwen and Dr. Bruce Banner were working on, but unless you're invested it's dull.
Coincidentally.
Locke had zero involvement and even less interest; only the decent guest bourbon kept him anchored.
Norman Osborn's office sounded better.
At worst it beat this boredom—and it's the same floor. If anything blew, five seconds would get him back.
He rose, pointed Felicia out to Gwen, then upward—signalling the chairman's suite—and mimed a call.
Quickly.
Gwen looked up, nodded, and made a answering face.
Locke turned to Felicia. "Let's go, Ms. Felicia."
She nodded and they left the lab, heading for the executive elevator nearby. "You and Ms. Stacy seem very close."
Locke smiled. "She's my cinnabar mole!"
Felicia looked at Locke, not understanding.
After all, this was outside her knowledge.
The corner of Locke's mouth curled as he put it plainly: "She's my goddess of luck."
Ever since he arrived in New York and met Gwen, every step he took to earn points had gone smoothly—growing bolder and stronger with each battle.
Locke wasn't like Stark.
Pepper Potts served as Stark's lucky goddess, yet when it came to sharing credit she was stingily awarded only a few points.
Locke figured… put it this way:
If he ever became a sun god, Gwen's importance in that outcome would account for at least 49.99 percent.
Hmm.
The remaining 50.11 percent came from his own relentless effort and struggle.
As everyone knows,
Locke was born a beast of burden, but through perseverance he turned himself into Rome!
Felicia gave an enlightened nod.
Top floor!
Osborne's flat-office had a huge floor-to-ceiling window; from it you could see the not-so-distant Stark Industries Building.
"Mr. Broughton."
"Mr. Osborne, just call me Locke. Harry and I are friends."
Led by Felicia, Locke stepped into the office and shook hands with Norman Osborn, who looked fine on the surface but clearly wasn't in good spirits.
After showing Locke in, Felicia turned toward the drinks cabinet.
Obviously,
she was preparing refreshments.
A moment later
Felicia returned carrying two glasses:
one of bourbon,
and another… bright green.
It looked like something very healthy.
Noticing Locke glance at the bourbon, Norman Osborn lifted his green drink and said with a smile, "I refuse injections and pills, so my Doctor has no choice but to treat me this way."
Must be nice to be that Doctor,
Locke thought; just toss together some herbs and elements from the periodic table and you can fool your only patient.
What could be easier?
Still… Norman's approach was understandable. Osborn Biologics wasn't in the same boat as Stark Industries.
Stark Industries is a family firm; it grew into the giant it is today not through financial tricks but through Howard Stark's brilliant mind.
Osborn Biologics, on the other hand, rose through capital manipulation.
In short,
after Howard Stark died, Wall Street vultures stirred, but as long as Stark Industries gave them no opening they couldn't bite.
Osborne Biologics was different: once Norman was gone, if Harry Osborn couldn't keep those Wall Street shareholders in check, Osborn Industries could easily change its name.
So… Norman couldn't show weakness; once a tiger falters, it can't intimidate the other beasts until it's strong again.
Norman smiled. "Locke, may I ask—were you the one sweeping up company stock in the market today?"
Locke sipped his bourbon and nodded. "Yes. Once the human-recovery serum succeeds, Osborne's share price will skyrocket. If I don't buy now, I won't be able to afford it later."
Norman laughed heartily. "Felicia told me this morning—thanks to Gwen."
Locke merely smiled, leaving the sentence unfinished.
Norman glanced at Felicia.
A moment later:
"Mr. Broughton."
"This is…"
"A share-transfer agreement."
"Hmm?"
Locke took the document from Felicia and raised an eyebrow at Norman. "Norman, what does this mean?"
Offering money on a silver platter?
For what?
Did he see my potential and want to place an early bet?
Or… is this a form of entrusting his orphan?
Reading the question in Locke's eyes, Norman smiled and gestured for him to open it.
Locke unfolded the agreement
and looked it over.
It ran long, but across ten pages only two sentences mattered.
First:
Mr. Norman Osborn shall transfer five of the forty-eight shares he holds, free of charge, to Ms. Gwen Stacy.
Second:
The transfer carries one—and only one—restriction:
for five years from the date of completion, Ms. Gwen Stacy may not cash out.
If she must sell, the Osborne family has first right of refusal…
480. Locke: The Path Has Widened
After finishing the equity transfer agreement.
Locke had only one thought in his mind.
As expected of a capitalist.
In a word.
While truly willing to pay a heavy price, he also truly ensured his interests were maximized.
On the surface, it was indeed an agreement for the gratuitous transfer of shares; although there were two additional conditions, this was normal.
After all... free things are always the most expensive.
However, from a certain perspective, this agreement was quite conscientious... it was just... Locke still looked at Norman Osborn with some curiosity.
Norman Osborn didn't seem to hide anything, pointing at the equity transfer agreement in Locke's hand: "This agreement was a decision I made after the Military confirmed they would invest in Dr. Connors' human body rehabilitation serum potion research and development."
Locke smiled: "Then the recipient of this agreement should be Dr. Connors."
Norman Osborn nodded: "Yes, originally, this agreement was split in two. Dr. Connors could obtain three percent of my shares, and Ms. Gwen Stacy could obtain two percent."
Locke glanced at it and nodded.
This explanation was quite reasonable.
After all, if Dr. Connors' research succeeded, it might not monopolize the global medical market, but it would certainly mean 'GG' for all companies worldwide that manufacture and develop prosthetic limbs.
This rehabilitation serum alone might not make Osborn the World's number one company, but it would certainly make them the World's number one medical hegemon before the patent expired.
As for Gwen?
Don't forget.
Without Gwen, Osborn would also lose its Military background. In that case, after Norman Osborn's unfortunate passing, the people on Wall Street would become even more unscrupulous.
However... "Then why..."
"Dr. Connors requested it."
"Hmm?"
Locke looked up at Felicia, who had spoken, and raised an eyebrow: "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
Three percent equity sounds like very little.
But this is three percent of Osborn Biologics Industry. In terms of value, let alone three percent, even one percent is worth more than what an ordinary person could afford after thirty years of struggle.
So here's the question.
Has Dr. Connors gone crazy?
Felicia repeated what she had just said, explaining that Dr. Connors was actually the first to leak the news about the agreement. However, after reading the first draft, Dr. Connors stated that he didn't need any equity. Or rather, he requested that his three percent be transferred to Gwen Stacy as well.
As for the reason?
Felicia shook her head: "I asked at the time, but Dr. Connors didn't say. After I confirmed multiple times, his attitude didn't change. At least, until he went missing a month ago, there was no change in his stance."
Alright.
Locke nodded inwardly, feeling a spark of curiosity. However, he still handed the equity transfer agreement back to Felicia: "Then you should take this to Gwen, not me."
Goodfellas.
Locke suddenly felt a bit sentimental.
He thought his money-making speed was already fast enough.
But now?
With this equity transfer agreement, if Gwen signs it, although she can't cash out for five years, and there's a slight possibility that Osborn Biologics' stock price might plummet to nothing after Norman Osborn dies...
But for now, the value of these five percent shares might not have surpassed Locke's, but it's safe to say they beat the sum of all his assets.
Tsk tsk.
Is this what they call 'knowledge changing one's destiny'?
Locke wanted to laugh when he remembered teasing Gwen about being a billionaire, only for her to flip her ponytail and say proudly that she would definitely be rich in the future because her knowledge would bring her wealth.
And now?
Locke didn't want to laugh; he wanted to cry. He started wondering if he should just engage in some entrapment, get some law enforcement agency to'scam' him, so he could extort... bah, earn a hundred million.
Norman Osborn smiled: "Didn't Locke just ask me to reveal some news to give you confidence in holding our company's stock? This is the news that will be announced immediately after the Lizard Serum is successful."
Locke glanced at Norman, shook his head, and was left speechless.
An hour later.
In Norman's office, Locke drank two glasses of bourbon worth three thousand dollars, received a call from Gwen, and returned to the lab.
Upon entering.
Gwen was taking off her white lab coat and hanging it on the wall.
After a while.
Gwen walked out with a bright smile, took Locke's arm, and said with a smile: "Let's go."
Locke raised an eyebrow: "Did you manage to whip up the antidote?"
Gwen nodded, then shook her head.
"Osborn doesn't have the gamma equipment anymore."
"Hmm?"
"The preliminary work has been completed here, but the final steps need to be carried out by Dr. Banner back at the New Jersey Military Base. Only they have the gamma equipment. However, Dr. Banner and I both feel it's going to work."
"That's great."
"Yeah!"
Gwen nodded, feeling the same way, but added: "But we're still missing one thing!"
"What?"
"Dr. Connors' blood sample."
After opening the driver's side door and buckling her seatbelt, Gwen looked at Locke, whom she had relegated to the passenger seat because he had been drinking: "Although Dr. Banner and I think this can help Dr. Connors return to normal, we don't know exactly how much excessive gamma rays Dr.Connors' blood has absorbed."
The antidote has been formulated.
But the antidote varies from person to person.
If the dose is too low, it won't be effective.
If the dose is too high... he'll die.
After all, the Lizard Serum is also very violent. One mistake, and instead of saving someone, it becomes murder.
Gwen drove slowly: "Right now, the most important thing is to find Dr. Connors."
Locke nodded, looked out the window, coughed, and said to Gwen: "Let's go to Brooklyn. I remember there's a good restaurant there."
Gwen looked at Locke suspiciously: "Mom is still waiting for us in Long Island."
Locke smiled: "I've already told Helen. We're going to celebrate together tonight."
"Celebrate?"
Gwen blinked: "Celebrate what?"
Locke shrugged: "Celebrate our Ms. Stacy becoming a billionaire."
"Ah!"
"Felicia said she mentioned it to you."
"Oh."
Gwen seemed to remember something: "Are you talking about that equity transfer?"
Locke hummed, as if catching Gwen's ponytail: "Honey, you're hiding another little secret from me."
Gwen rolled her eyes at Locke: "It's not a secret, because I don't plan on taking it. The human recovery potion is Dr. Connors' achievement. Besides, I don't have the influence to make the Military sponsor Dr.Connors directly. They sponsored him because of his research; it has nothing to do with me. I'd accept one percent, but I won't accept two."
What's mine is mine.
What isn't mine, I won't take.
This was Gwen's principle.
"That's not what Dr. Connors said."
"..."
Locke glanced at Gwen, directed her to turn left at the next intersection toward Brooklyn, and then told her about the equity transfer information he had just heard from Norman Osborn.
After finishing.
Locke smiled: "You think it's Dr. Connors' achievement, but Dr. Connors seems to think it's all yours."
I have to say.
Even Locke had to admit it.
Connors... he's really widened his path.
And in the widest way possible.
Tsk tsk.
Just for this, I have to say Dr. Connors deserves a purification blood vial.
Gwen was very surprised, looking at Locke repeatedly: "What? Are you sure what you're saying is true?"
Locke shrugged: "I don't think Norman Osborn has any reason to trick me."
"But... why, Doctor?"
Gwen was stunned. If she hadn't been driving, she probably would have devoted all her attention to this.
Just then.
Locke looked at the scenery outside and, seeing a restaurant by the road, said: "We're here."
Gwen hit the brakes and turned to look at the restaurant by the road: "Mexico..."
As she spoke.
The moment Locke unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed the door open, a familiar scent wafted into Gwen's nose.
Dr. Connors?
Gwen blinked, opened the door, and stepped out. She then stared at a manhole cover across the street, her eyes flickering.
Down there... is Dr. Connors' scent. No mistake.
Gwen looked down at the transparent fine hairs on her arm, which were dancing slightly as if to music.
The next second.
Gwen seemed to realize something and turned to look at Locke, who was already standing on the sidewalk.
He brought her here on purpose.
Gwen was sure of it!
But... she had no evidence.
Locke wouldn't admit it either. Looking at Gwen as she walked over and stared at him intently, he smiled: "Let's go. I've been drinking all afternoon and I'm a bit lightheaded. I heard Sam say this place is pretty good."
As he spoke.
To increase his credibility, Locke showed his evidence.
His chat history with Sam.
Of course.
This was something Locke had arranged with Sam over the phone while in the elevator; he had written the script himself.
The reason?
Locke had just said it.
Dr. Connors... has widened his path!
Chapter 481: Laboratory in the Sewer
After Dr. Connors turned into Dr. Lizard, he had Gwen leave immediately. This gave Locke a reason not to kill him when his wrath descended back then.
And now?
Although he didn't know for what purpose Dr. Connors would give Gwen what he deserved, as everyone knew, Locke had always been a person who looked at results rather than the process.
How the process went didn't matter.
The result was the most important thing.
And the result was that the equity, which should have been split 3:2, was all given to Gwen.
So... it was a matter of returning a favor.
You help me, I help you, building a harmonious society of friendship and favors, adding bricks and mortar to the social barrier of favors in a capitalist society.
Half an hour later... the people from S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived.
Gwen wanted to go straight into the sewer to find Dr. Connors.
But... Locke stopped her.
Again, if it weren't for Dr. Connors making the right move, Locke would never have come here, let alone enter a sewer; it had nothing to do with whether Dr. Lizard was inside or not.
Besides, Dr. Lizard wasn't in the sewer right now.
Where did he go?
No one knew.
Locke said he would help, but he didn't say he would see it through to the end. He meant that Dr. Connors was worth a Purification Potion, but that would only be given after he understood the reason.
What if Dr. Connors was plotting something bad? In that case, wouldn't he be slapped in the face?
So.
Locke looked up at Gwen, who was absentmindedly looking out of the restaurant while eating. Across the street, S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel were disguised as city construction workers, setting up cordons and occasionally going down manholes. Locke said, "The professionals..."
Before he could finish his sentence.
The restaurant door pushed open.
Maria Hill walked in with a smile, pulled out a chair, sat down directly, and looked at Locke. "Mr. Broughton really knows how to pick a time. It's the weekend, I just got back to New York, and the call came. And, what a coincidence?"
Locke looked at the knowing expression on Maria Hill's face while eating his Mexican burrito. "This restaurant was recommended by a classmate, I have proof. Besides, if I had known this was happening here, I wouldn't have come. By the way, Ms. Hill, would you like some? My treat, as long as you pretend you don't know about this, how about it?"
Maria Hill laughed directly.
Locke laughed along.
Knowing you were here, to prevent any potential catastrophic events, I've already ordered the S.H.I.E.L.D. Special Response Team to be on alert two blocks away.
And you want to dismiss it with a single Mexican burrito?
Maria Hill thought to herself.
"Ms. Hill."
Seeing the two of them speaking in riddles, Gwen, who was in no mood to participate, spoke up directly, "Ms. Hill, what's the situation down there? Have you found the doctor?"
Hill snapped back to reality. "Our people are..."
As she spoke.
The walkie-talkie crackled.
"Officer!"
The voice of a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent came through, sounding somewhat impressed and bewildered. "Uh... Officer, maybe you should send the Science Division down here to take a look."
Hill raised an eyebrow and took out her walkie-talkie.
"Found the target?"
"No, but we found his laboratory."
"Laboratory?"
"Yes."
On a protruding platform in the wide sewer, a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent confirmed the air was free of toxins aside from the stench, took off his Gas mask, and stared at the various instruments and the dense data displayed on the open computer like a monkey seeing God. "We found the doctor's lab, but the data on here is beyond our understanding."
Hill hummed in acknowledgement. "Alright, I know. I'll have the New York branch..."
Hearing this, Gwen interjected, "Ms. Hill, I can help."
Locke whispered from the side, "It's very smelly down there."
Gwen turned to Locke and smiled. "We can wear Hazmat suits and Gas masks."
Locke raised an eyebrow. "We?"
Wait a minute.
I never said I was going down.
But... fifteen minutes later.
Locke walked into the sewer wearing an airtight, white protective suit with its own oxygen supply and an added grass-scented internal circulation oxygen tank.
Gwen and Maria Hill walked in front.
Locke was somewhat speechless; he felt his bottom line was dropping step by step.
But when he thought of what Gwen had whispered in his ear about taking things "a step further" when they got back tonight, he felt at peace.
It's not good for a person's bottom line to keep dropping.
But if someone else's bottom line drops with yours, two negatives make a positive, so it can't be called a drop in bottom line.
Soon.
A laboratory built on a protruding platform in the sewer appeared before everyone's eyes.
Gwen's eyes lit up. With the help of a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, she climbed onto the platform and looked at the lab, which was not much different from the ones at Osborn Biologics, with only differences in efficiency and precision. "Oh my god, I knew the doctor must be trying to find a way to cure himself."
As she spoke.
Gwen's gaze swept over the connected equipment and then fixed on the computer that was running some kind of simulation program.
"This is..."
"A simulation of an Antidote?"
Maria Hill also walked over and asked as she looked at the bar graphs and pie charts on the computer screen.
Gwen didn't say anything.
The next second.
Gwen glanced around at the Agents who had taken off their masks, then took off her own, unfastened the arm protection, and began operating the computer with both hands.
The data on the screen refreshed rapidly like a waterfall.
However... as Gwen watched, her expression gradually became more and more troubled.
Maria Hill had been watching Gwen's expression.
"What's wrong?"
"...This is..."
"Poison!"
"Huh?"
Hill snapped back and looked at Locke, who had suddenly spoken from behind.
Locke watched Gwen operating the computer and looked at Maria Hill. To prevent her from disturbing Gwen, he explained, "This isn't data for a Human Recovery Serum, it's the genuine Lizard Serum Virus!"
Maria Hill's pupils dilated. "A virus?"
Locke nodded and looked at Maria Hill. "Yes. Based on the data here, if ten milliliters of the lizard virus were to spread, it would be enough to turn everyone within a five-kilometer radius into what Dr. Connors looks like now."
As expected of a renowned biologist.
By slightly modifying a few steps and dosages of the same biological reaction equation, he could turn a life-saving Antidote into a top-tier biological poison.
Why didn't I think of that?
Locke thought to himself, but then felt at ease after looking at his current levels in Biology and Scientific Application.
Maria Hill couldn't feel at ease. Hearing Locke's words, her pupils dilated again. "Wait, you mean Dr. Connors isn't developing an Antidote, but a poison, trying to turn New Yorkers into lizard people as well?"
"No!"
Hearing this, Gwen immediately shook her head and looked at Maria Hill. "The doctor isn't that kind of person. There must be some misunderstanding."
Gwen knew Dr. Connors' character all too well.
Although Dr. Connors had a disability, he was naturally optimistic and treated his subordinates very well. This was why, when Dr. Connors' lab lacked funding in the past, several staff members never spoke of jumping ship or resigning.
Because in other labs, it was just a place to work.
But in Dr. Connors' lab, the atmosphere was like a small family, and in this family, Dr. Connors was undoubtedly the parent—the kind who cared for his family.
So... Gwen said this as she continued to search the computer for evidence that could explain everything. She didn't believe that Dr. Connors would turn from a doctor who cared for his family and was kind to his friends into a villain trying to transform more lizard people.
Just then.
Gwen's eyes lit up as she found a video file.
Click!
Soon.
"Huh?"
Gwen was slightly stunned when she saw a figure appear on the screen after opening the video. "Doctor?"
In the video.
Dr. Connors had returned to his original form. He was covered in sweat, which was pouring down as he faced the camera, seemingly having transformed back from his Dr. Lizard form.
But... when the camera moved, it was revealed that although Dr. Connors had returned to human form, the thick, long lizard tail behind him gave him away.
"Save me!"
...
The first sentence out of Dr. Connors' mouth immediately shocked Gwen and Maria Hill.
"I can feel the power of the demon inside me growing stronger day by day."
"I'm losing control."
"I wanted to seek help, but I can't control this demon for long anymore. If I appear on the surface and lose control, many innocent people will lose their lives because of me."
"But..."
"I'm not going to make it, especially after I saw this data yesterday."
"This demon is trying to drag more innocent people with him and turn them into his likeness."
"He absorbed my knowledge and even tampered with my experimental data, turning the Antidote I originally wanted to create into one that could destroy the World."
"Ah!"
As he spoke, Dr. Connors suddenly let out a roar. Veins popped on his face, and his whole body curled up as he struggled to look at the camera. "If you find this place, stop him, kill him, please!"
As he spoke.
Whoosh.
Just as Dr. Connors was about to finish the operation.
Instantly.
He transformed into Dr. Lizard!
482. Dr. Lizard and Dr. Banner
"Heh-heh-heh!"
"Demon..."
"You idiot—you're the demon!"
"Once everyone evolves like us, accepts this glorious biological ascension and becomes a lizard-person, won't your dream finally come true?"
"A World without deformity, a World without flaw!"
"No more scorn!"
"Harmony!"
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"You're the fool; I'm only helping you finish your dream!"
On-screen,
Dr. Lizard—born from Dr. Connors's transformation—let out weird cackles, his jade-green eyes fixed on the camera as if speaking to the lens, or perhaps to the struggling Dr. Connors himself.
Then... he switched the camera off. The video ended.
Gwen gasped.
So did Maria Hill. She spun round, ordered the S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical team two blocks away to shift from standby to go-mode, then—remembering something—looked straight at Locke.
Locke had arrived.
Disaster... had struck again.
Sure enough—this guy really was a walking catastrophe.
Locke raised an eyebrow, instantly reading Maria Hill's expression. "Hey, hey, get this straight: I didn't want to come. And check the timestamp—when Dr. Lizard claimed credit for this mess yesterday, I was safely holed up at home."
One sentence:
This had nothing to do with him.
He was innocent.
Besides... Locke waved a hand, looking relaxed. "And no need to panic. To turn that stuff into a real poison, one crucial step is still missing. Without it, even if you drink it, worst case you get a bad case of the runs and maybe an ICU trip—nothing more."
"One step left?"
"Exactly."
Gwen, snapping out of her shock, added with worry, "Locke's right. Right now the serum in Dr.Connors's hands is still safe. Theoretically it could even be the antidote, because whether it becomes cure or poison depends on one device."
"What device?"
"A gamma rig."
"..."
Gwen pressed on. "Whether it's antidote or poison, it needs gamma assistance. Just the right gamma dose makes it a cure; too much tips it into deadly poison."
Clearly,
Dr. Lizard wasn't here—apparently off hunting gamma equipment.
But... Gwen frowned. "There's hardly any gamma gear in New York capable of this. I can think of only one place."
"Where?"
"Dr. Bruce Banner's lab."
"..."
Gwen looked up at Maria Hill. Bruce Banner was the top gamma expert; his lab held the best, most complete gamma setups. If anywhere could help Dr. Lizard turn the serum into true poison, Banner's lab was second to none.
Only... Gwen shook her head. "Bruce Banner's lab is on the New Jersey Military Base—tight security."
Maria Hill blinked. "You mean the New Jersey Base?"
Gwen nodded. "Is... something wrong?"
Maria Hill drew a sharp breath. "Today is Military payday."
Gwen blinked. "So?"
Maria Hill spun round, shucked her protective suit, and headed back the way they'd come. "Meaning tonight security there is at its thinnest."
One sentence:
Where do G.I.s go the moment they're paid?
No question:
The bar.
Every payday, every bar near a federal Base is packed. That day, no exaggeration, sixty percent of a soldier's fresh pay cycles straight into beer, pole dancers, and... escorts.
Sure enough—
"shit!"
Maria Hill cursed at the dead line, then called New York S.H.I.E.L.D. Commander Victoria Hand: "Contact the Military—something's up at New Jersey Base!"
Right now,
inside the Base—
"That's weird,"
Betty Ross murmured, hanging up after trying to call out. She turned to her boyfriend, who was poring over data. "Haven't they fixed the phone lines yet, Bruce?"
Bruce Banner didn't even look up. "No surprise—today's payday; by now the maintenance crew's probably passed out drunk in some bar."
Besides, the Base's comm lines were always garbage.
Put it this way:
If every piece of gear and wiring on a Military Base were built to last years—decades—without breaking, how would anyone earn a little side money?
Even in the Military's closed-off Small World, you still have to keep up appearances; when you're skimming, you need a creative excuse.
For example: overhaul the comm lines every three months, one-day job, one hundred grand.
Money made.
As for it…
Bruce Banner had long since stopped being shocked, and it wasn't his place to interfere. While he spoke he was studying the fresh data on the monitor, clicking his tongue in admiration. "Kurt's mastery of biochemistry is breathtaking."
Betty Ross stepped over, scanning the rows of figures on the screen, then arched a delicate brow. "Success?"
Bruce Banner nodded. "This year's Nobel in Medicine belongs to Kurt, hands down."
From now on, losing an arm or a leg won't be a nightmare.
One shot of human recovery potion:
An amputated arm grows right back.
A severed leg regenerates just the same.
Disabled people?
The word itself might become a myth.
Of course,
getting the tech to the masses will probably take a century—R&D capital expects returns.
Betty's eyes sparkled. "When Dad hears, he'll be thrilled."
After all, the project succeeded under General Ross's leadership; as partners the Military gets the formula royalty-free. Once it rolls out, every active-duty amputee—and every disabled vet across the country—will owe their recovery to General Ross, locking their loyalty to him.
In short,
this alone will make General Ross's position in the Military unassailable.
Bruce Banner nodded.
Just then,
a commotion burst in from outside.
Bruce Banner and Betty Ross blinked and turned in unison.
"What's happening ou—"
Boom!
Before he could finish, gunfire erupted.
The next second,
a thunderous crash
shattered the door; a guard, torn up like a rag doll, was hurled into the lab.
Immediately after,
a hulking, two-meter-tall Dr. Lizard, dragging a long tail, stooped and stepped inside.
Bruce Banner froze.
"Dr. Connors?"
"Dr. Banner!"
Dr. Lizard's maw moved; words came out. He strode straight toward the fully equipped gamma-device control booth nearby. "I need your help."
Right then,
Bruce Banner's phone rang.
He answered instinctively.
Gwen's voice spilled out at once.
"Dr. Banner, Dr. Connors is under lizard-mind control. He wants the gamma rig to brew lizard poison. Be care—"
Smash!
"Betty—"
Before Gwen could finish, Dr. Lizard lunged; his tail whipped Betty aside, giving her no time to react—she cried out in pain.
The phone crumpled in Dr. Lizard's claws.
Dr. Banner ran to her. "Betty—Betty!"
Betty's face was pale.
The serum-pack on Dr. Lizard's back shifted as his compound eyes pinned Dr. Banner. "Doctor, help me—otherwise…"
He raised his tail like a steel whip, aiming at Betty. "I'll kill her."
No choice:
different trades for different blades.
More crucially,
running the gamma console means typing, and with Dr. Lizard's claws one finger-stroke would trash the keyboard.
Dr. Banner stared at the monster threatening him. "Kurt, snap out of it!"
A snarl flashed across Dr. Lizard's face; he seized Betty by the throat.
Instantly,
Dr. Banner shouted, "I'll help—let her go and I'll help!"
Dr. Lizard stared.
Dr. Banner drew a ragged breath. "Let Betty leave this room and I'll do whatever you want—anything. I swear it, Kurt—just let her walk out first."
Dr. Lizard: "…"
483. A Calamity Magnet, aka the New Guy
Night fell.
By the time Locke and the others reached the Military Base, the entire Base was on total lockdown; the lab building where Dr. Bruce Banner worked had been sealed off completely.
Yet... Maria Hill slammed the door, stepped out, and frowned at the ring after ring of troops surrounding the building. "Why aren't we storming it?"
A Commander who'd skipped the bar was already at his wits' end. "We can't get in."
"What?"
"There are bombs inside!"
"..."
Never mind where Dr. Lizard got enough explosives to stack at the entrance and wire them to motion sensors—just consider one simple fact.
Today is payday.
Even without the bombs, the state those troops were in after being dragged out of the bar meant that going in would basically be suicide.
"Betty!"
Gwen spotted Betty Ross the moment she stepped out of the car—wrapped in a blanket by an ambulance, being treated—and hurried over. "Where's Dr. Banner?"
Betty looked up, brightening at the sight of Gwen, then glanced at the building they couldn't yet breach. "Bruce... is still inside."
To save her, half an hour earlier Bruce Banner had struck a deal with Dr. Lizard: release Betty Ross, and Banner would help activate the gamma device.
But when they came downstairs they found the entrance stacked with explosives—
all taken from the Base's own weapons depot.
Same old story.
It's payday. Unlike East-country Bases that go on alert for every holiday, federal facilities are at their weakest on payday, weaker than any national holiday.
Otherwise, how could a sixteen-year-old orphan once stroll onto a Base and steal a fighter jet?
Sounds absurd, yet reality keeps showing us the bottom is just a new beginning.
"What?"
Learning that gamma expert Bruce Banner was inside, Gwen blurted, "We can't let him start that device or..."
the whole Base could end up lizard-ized.
Betty looked down. "Relax. Bruce heard your call—he's not helping Dr. Connors activate it."
When the two of them had returned earlier to finish processing the serum with the gamma rig, even the brilliant Dr. Banner saw the flaw at once.
The serum could serve as a human recovery potion—but boost the gamma dose and it became poison.
Gwen froze.
"What?"
"Just now the alarm sounded."
"Huh?"
"Bruce has sealed the gamma lab from the inside."
"..."
Locke standing nearby raised an eyebrow.
Locked the gamma lab from the inside?
Wait.
Am I about to witness history?
Locke thought. If he remembered right, Bruce Banner's gamma-ray meltdown was what birthed the Green Hulk.
Right now?
Goodfellas!
A sudden idea struck him; he turned to Maria Hill. "Ms. Hill, remind me—why exactly did you invite me here?"
Hill gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm counting on you to bring an even bigger disaster."
No choice.
Only magic can beat magic.
If Locke's arrival triggers a bigger calamity, the lizard plague Dr. Lizard might unleash won't even make the front page—hell, it won't get a column inch.
Locke's mouth twitched. "I think you've got the wrong idea about me."
"Your disaster-magnet constitution?"
Maria Hill shot back, then smiled. "The onlooker sees most of the game. Trust me—I've sized you up perfectly."
Locke's eyelids spasmed.
The next second
he sucked in a sharp breath.
Hold on... if the Green Hulk really appears tonight, won't that confirm this ridiculous calamity-magnet label?
No way.
Absolutely not.
Just then—
Ding!
Quest generating!
Quest title: "Peaceful Semester, Stage Two!"
Quest subtitle: "Birth of the Hulk—aka Stop Maria Hill from Learning the Truth!"
Quest briefing: "Bruce Banner can become the Hulk—just not tonight!"
Quest note: "Still self-defense!"
System message: "Go for it, buddy. You charge ahead; I'll figure out how to frame the quest. Love you forever—your faithful system!"
"...What the hell?"
"What's wrong?"
Locke's mouth twitched again. Collecting himself, he looked at Maria Hill, exhaled, and said, "You really have the wrong idea about me. I'm not who you think I am."
What disaster magnet?
That's the constitution of the kid who spent a decade repeating high school and still calls himself a freshman.
And me?
I've merely slogged through 482 chapters of senior year—still a senior. Tops, four hundred more chapters and I'll finally graduate.
Locke complained silently.
Still… how am I supposed to finish this blasted mission?
Charge in head-first?
Charge my foot.
Out of the corner of his eye Locke saw Gwen, who looked ready to turn into Spider-Man and dash in to rescue Dr. Connors; his brows twitched.
At that moment a Military-green jeep screeched up.
Behind the wheel sat General Thaddeus Ross.
"Daddy!"
Betty Ross brightened the instant she spotted her father. She jumped up, ran over, and hugged Thaddeus Ross. "Dad, Bruce is still inside. Hurry—if we wait any longer it'll be too late."
Thaddeus Ross soothed Betty, gave her a solemn promise, then shook hands with Maria Hill. "What exactly happened?"
After all, the plan—no, the rescue of Dr. Connors—was a joint S.H.I.E.L.D.–Military operation. In New York City the Military couldn't show its face, so it offered support from the shadows.
Maria Hill repeated their intel: "We can't let Dr. Lizard activate the gamma device. If he succeeds, all of New York—no, the entire nation—will be in danger."
Hearing that Dr. Lizard meant to brew a serum that would turn people into lizard-men, Thaddeus turned grave. "The bomb squad's on site. How long to clear the charges?"
The last question he aimed at his aide.
"Ten minutes, sir!"
Gwen nodded. "The gamma unit needs an hour to pre-heat. Half that's already passed; we should make it."
Forcing the machine on without warm-up would be catastrophic.
Ten minutes—neither long nor short.
To everyone except Locke, each second crawled.
The instant the final door charge was neutralized, the S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team rushed into position.
Maria Hill accepted the vest Barbara Morse handed her; it might not stop claws, but better safe than sorry.
Just then Gwen spoke up. "Ms. Hill, I'm going in with you."
"Absolutely not."
Hill refused without hesitation. "We don't know what's in there; you're staying put."
Gwen insisted. "I can help. The antidote that restores Dr. Connors is ready—do you even know how to use it?"
Betty Ross chimed in. "We're not sure how much excess serum he has, but even a partial dose should bring him back to his senses. The vial's in our office; it must have fallen near the upper-left corner of the carpet when he threw me."
Gwen turned to Hill. "Dr. Connors is my teacher. I promise I won't get in the way."
Hill looked at Locke.
Locke blinked. "Don't tell me you want me to go too."
He'd just realized… this mission was basically free points.
Why?
Read the prompt.
What did the briefing say?
Bruce Banner can become the Hulk—but definitely not today.
So Locke didn't have to do a thing. Just stand here, count to five, wait three hours, and—boom—mission complete once the calendar flipped.
Even if gamma rays flooded his cells, rewriting DNA took time.
So even if the device blew right now and Bruce got dosed, the earliest he'd turn into Green Hulk would be tomorrow.
Therefore, Locke saw no reason to move.
Hill shook her head at his remark. "Of course not. What I meant was: I might let Gwen go, but if you want to tag along, the answer is no. Who knows what would happen if you went in there."
Locke: "…"