Bruce let go of the back of his hand and found a very tiny wound between his middle and ring fingers.
Had he been bitten by a spider?
Bruce sighed. The climate of the East Coast where he previously lived didn't really accommodate these tiny bugs, so he had never been bitten by one before. The West Coast was warmer and more humid, and the dark, damp condition of the warehouse was exactly what spiders loved, so it was no surprise there were spiders.
Although Bruce was not extraordinarily knowledgeable, he had commonsense. The majority of poisonous spiders were not lethal, their venom not sufficient to cause death.
The vast majority of people killed by poisonous spiders died from allergic shocks or infections. Symptoms like rapid heartbeat, rising blood pressure, sweating, and bodily stiffness would typically appear within seconds after being bitten, necessitating treatment with the relevant antidote.
The spider Bruce had caught sight of was hardly more than a centimeter long, not nearly the 4-5 centimeter size of certain venomous species. The venom volume wouldn't be much, and the bite was not deep, and he didn't feel any acute pain.
For his own safety, he of course should have immediately called an ambulance. But after waiting on the spot for over 30 seconds and finding no abnormal reactions, he decided to take a gamble.
Mainly because he was at their mercy. He came to the warehouse to investigate, and an accident occurred. To put it nicely, he was bitten by a spider due to an accident. But to put it crudely, was this not him asking for trouble?
Bruce was not certain that the Osborn Group wouldn't pursue the matter. Since he wasn't poisoned, he decided it was better not to raise the issue.
Bruce then turned his attention back to the safety computer. Unfortunately, after studying it for quite some time, he was unable to unlock this unfamiliar electronic device. Feeling helpless, he continued his search for written documents.
Regrettably, in the formal procedures of any large corporation, paper files would never be kept in a goods warehouse, they would be transferred by dedicated personnel. Bruce found nothing after a full circle of searching.
It was getting late and, concerned about a potential night check, Bruce quickly returned to his bedroom.
Lying in bed, he felt his heart was beating a little faster than usual, but it wasn't abnormally fast. Upon careful consideration, there weren't any significantly poisonous spiders on the West Coast, so Bruce managed to reassure himself and drifted to sleep.
The next morning, Bruce woke up to intense hunger.
It wasn't exactly hunger, but more like a surging desire to consume, to the point where he even wanted to gnaw on the table legs.
Bruce's willpower wasn't as unshakeable as other Batmans, so as soon as he left his room, he asked the staff, "When do we eat?"
"Are you hungry, Sir? Breakfast will begin in half an hour. How did you sleep last night?"
"I was groggy, I think you guys took too much blood."
"I'm afraid that's not related, Sir. The volume of blood taken was completely normal. If you're really feeling unwell, we can conduct another checkup after breakfast."
"No need." Bruce continually swallowed saliva.
It wasn't his stomach sending signals of emptiness, but every single cell in his body. What he needed was not simply food, but energy, and a tremendous amount of it at that.
"Can I have some energy bars?" Bruce requested. "I've been feeling a bit dizzy since last night. My blood sugar is probably low, I need to replenish energy."
The worker leading the way glanced back at him and, seeing that Bruce indeed looked unwell, led him to the prep room and asked a nurse for two energy gels.
"Sir, this is Osborn Group's latest product, which is excellent for energy replenishment. Considering that you were injured yesterday, it's normal to feel a bit weak. Please don't mind."
Bruce could no longer hear what was being said clearly. He numbly took the energy gel and squeezed it into his mouth, like a starved ghost that had been reincarnated in hell multiple lifetimes.
With two energy gels down, Bruce quickly felt a sense of satisfaction, as if each and every one of his cells was being rejuvenated. The joy of this primal human desire for food being satisfied was indescribable.
"It seems you're looking better, aren't you? Then please do help us promote Osborn Group's products." The staff member stood at the entrance of the cafeteria, smiled at him, and said, "Enjoy your meal."
Bruce nodded at him and went in for his meal.
The breakfast spread was quite lavish, mainly clean protein meats and carbohydrates. Remove some of the fats, and it was just like the muscle building meals Bruce had eaten before.
His hunger wasn't as intense as before, and Bruce didn't take as much food. As he dined, he pondered how to secure an advantage.
Without realizing time had passed, the food on his plate was already gone, yet Bruce felt no sensations of fullness. Thus, he got up, walked to the front, and got another plate of food.
To prevent experiencing hunger again, Bruce decided to eat a bit more. Therefore, he specifically took carbohydrates and meats, and to replenish his glucose, he generously spread a lot of chocolate sauce on his bread.
But only a few minutes later, the plate of food was emptied once again. Bruce still didn't feel full, only less hungry. He didn't feel the satisfaction that dopamine, secreted by the brain after a full meal, usually provided.
Maybe because he's been burning a lot recently, Bruce thought, why not eat more since the food here came at no cost?
With this reasoning, Bruce unashamedly carried two plates, piling them high with all sorts of hunger-busting foods like roasted turkey legs, German sausages, pan-seared bacon, deep-fried cod fillets, cinnamon rolls, and Swiss bread rolls, and returned to his seat.
So far, he wasn't particularly conspicuous, as many of the others at this place were big eaters too. Just a moment ago, another guy had polished off over 30 eggs. The staff here were clearly used to such sights.
After downing two full plates of food, Bruce felt no different. He wasn't hungry, but he wasn't full either, and felt like he could still eat.
At this point, Bruce sensed something was amiss. He was certain his usual appetite wasn't this big. Even if he was hurt and bleeding, it wouldn't be possible. His stomach simply couldn't hold this much food.
Looking down at his own stomach, Bruce was even more puzzled. Even muscular men with defined six-pack abs would end up bloated after eating too much, as that's simply how human physiology works.
But Bruce's abs remained flat, as if they had not been filled with the four plates of food he had consumed. Bruce didn't feel the need for a restroom break either. The food he had eaten vanished as if it had entered a void.
If it was any other Batman, by now he would have started recalling every potential irregularity he had encountered. But this Batman didn't have that good a memory, so his way of dealing with this anomaly was to just keep eating.
Because only by continuing to eat could he discern whether he was so ravenous because he was overly hungry or if something wasn't right with his body.
After another two plates full of food, all the food at the spots Bruce visited had been cleared. Staff were restocking food at those stations.
Plate after plate, the third, the fourth, the fifth, it was only after consuming the sixth plate of food that Bruce finally felt slightly full.
He knew he shouldn't continue eating like this because his behavior had begun to attract attention from some people.
Most people were finished eating and ready to leave at this point. Regardless of eating more or less, staying here any longer would draw too much attention, so Bruce decided to leave.
He thought about it and concluded that the amount of food he had eaten probably was not as satisfying as the two tubes of energy gel he consumed earlier. He would need to figure out a way to get more of that energy gel.
Batman wouldn't stoop so low as to steal, and he felt he couldn't wait until nighttime to go out, so he simply sought out the staff member who had led him here before and expressed his request explicitly.
The staff member was a little surprised after listening to his request, but didn't refuse. Instead, he said, "This is another project of our company, currently in its testing phase. So it seems you find it beneficial?"
"Of course, the energy it contains is surprisingly high. If you can continuously provide it to me, I might be able to offer some help in the clinical testing phase of your project."
The staff member contemplated this and figured it made sense, so he said, "I'll report this to my supervisor. If it's feasible, we will continuously provide energy gel to you. In return, you need to cooperate with us for physical examinations. You might even receive double pay."
After bidding farewell, he started that day's experiments. Oddly, today's experiments had little to do with medicine, focusing more on strength testing.
As soon as he stepped into the room, Bruce witnessed a familiar scene. Various strong humans were fiddling with free weights; some were bench pressing, some were deadlifting, and some were warming up.
A lady holding a chart walked up to him, nodded, and said, "Hello, today we need to test everyone's muscle mass, neural development and strength."
"When it's your turn, we'll call your name. The exerise you need to perform is a deadlift. We will gradually increase the weight to test your limits. We have professional protective measures for the entire process, so don't worry about safety."
"After that, we have a dodge nerve response test, flexibility test, muscle control strength test, and so on. Qualified personnel will guide you through all the tests. Now, let's start."
Bruce was just about to join the line when he heard an uproar from the crowd on the other side. He leaned over and saw that it was because a strongman had deadlifted 320 kilograms, which sparked rounds of cheers.
By the time Bruce reached the location, the strongman had already put down the weights, replaced by a much more lightweight figure. Judging from Bruce's workout experience, this lean person's optimal performance was 250 kilograms, maybe 280 at most, because that was his level.
This universe's Batman wasn't as buff as those in most other universes. He wouldn't be called a beefy guy. His body was just a little bit stronger than an average guy's, thanks to a decent diet and professional strength training. Twice his body weight was his deadlifting limit.
To everyone's astonishment, this young man, whose height and weight looked quite similar to Bruce's, deadlifted 300 kilograms, which was already at the level of a weightlifter.
However, Bruce noticed that the man's form wasn't quite right. The timing of his knee lockout was off, and his arm strength deployment was problematic. He didn't seem like one who frequented gyms.
After that, another person about the same size as Bruce also deadlifted 300 kilograms, which left Bruce doubting himself.
Even though he's not as powerful as the other Batmen, he should at least beat these ordinary people who couldn't even get their forms right.
In fact, when he was at the gym, Bruce had attempted to deadlift 300 kilograms more than once, but never succeeded. In part because he was too lightweight with insufficient muscle mass, and in part because he lacked the mental will and confidence to do so. He didn't push himself if he couldn't lift it.
Soon, it was Bruce's turn and he couldn't help but break a sweat. Everyone else was strong, he had to avoid embarrassment.
Since Bruce had already warmed up, he didn't start with a small weight. He started at 200 kilograms, then quickly moved onto 250 kilograms.