Mysterio returned to his base, and as soon as he walked through the door, he spread his arms wide, hearing the cheers that he had expected. His pride swelled, and he twirled around the room with his arms outstretched before removing his helmet.
"What did I say?!" he roared, venting, "Stark has always been a fool, a loser under my feet, always! That damn thief! A despicable, dirty rat from the sewer! Only I! I am the true hero!"
After his outburst, Mysterio took a deep breath. He waved his hand and said, "Bring up the combat footage from today, I want to see to what extent Stark Group has developed this technology."
Soon, the entire team gathered in front of the screen to watch the day's battle replay. Sophia frowned slightly and said, "It seems they've made a breakthrough in animation technology. The way the sandstorm monster curls its body is more natural, and there's almost no animation of the same type visible, which means they're not using templates."
"What's so surprising about that?" Beck was still dismissive. He said, "Stark Group has far more computing power than us. Those rows upon rows of expensive servers are not just for show, and they also have a large number of employees. They can manually render every action, so it's normal for the animations to be more refined. That's all he's got."
"But this will indeed put pressure on us," Sophia said. "The finer the animation, the harder it is for us to expose them."
"Why do we need to expose them?" Beck turned and retorted, "We just need to beat them time and time again. The stronger and more vicious they appear, the more of a hero I look like. Isn't that good?"
Sophia opened her mouth but in the end, she said, "What I mean is that they might develop aggressive illusions like we did. Don't forget, the drone technology—"
"Enough!" Beck shouted. "I cannot lose to him!"
He took a deep breath and stood silently. The Chinese scientist walked up and patted his shoulder. Beck stood up, glanced at the time and said, "I'll figure out a way, no matter what. For now, we already have the upper hand. They won't be content with losing to me today, and there's another big show tomorrow night."
With the help of the drones, Beck returned to the hospital. He gently opened the hospital window and saw Shiller sleeping with his back to him. He let out a sigh of relief.
He lay back down in the hospital bed and slept until dawn, but he had gone to bed in the early hours of the morning. He would have slept until noon, but as soon as daylight broke, Shiller woke him up.
Beck was groggy, his brain wasn't very clear, almost a blank slate. Yet Shiller was forcing him to fill out that damn form again, and fearing that his nighttime escapades might be discovered, Beck grudgingly completed the form.
After finishing the form, he saw Shiller pour him a glass of water. He picked up the cup without thinking, and the next second—smash—it fell to the ground.
"That's hot!!" Beck cursed, sitting up in bed, propping up his upper body with an elbow, shaking his arm, and then he saw Shiller methodically kneeling down to pick up the pieces.
"What's going on?" A tall, burly agent cracked the door open, asking with some dissatisfaction.
"Nothing," Shiller replied, standing up with the pieces wrapped in paper. He glanced at Beck, shook his head, and said nothing.
The agent's gaze grew even more disapproving as he looked at Beck. He raised an eyebrow and said, "You have an interrogation in two hours. Better behave, no funny business, or you're done."
Then he turned to Shiller, somewhat helplessly, "It's been tough, Doctor, hang in there for a few more days."
Shiller also nodded at him, and the door closed.
"Damn it! Why did you pour me such hot water?!" Beck glared at Shiller, highly displeased.
"Didn't you just see me pouring the water from a freshly boiled kettle?" Shiller replied, looking somewhat helpless, "Why did you reach out to grab it?"
"But you put it there, it's like..."
"Which time in the past few days when I reminded you to drink water did I not say 'Have some water'? Today I didn't speak because I was waiting for the water to cool off."
Beck looked helplessly at the ceiling, sighed deeply, and lay back down. His frustration was indescribable. After thinking for a while, he finally grabbed onto another loophole. He said, "Then why did you wake me up so early?"
"Because S.H.I.E.L.D. is busy today. The agent is coming over two hours earlier. They asked me to ensure you're sufficiently awake. Didn't I also get up as early as you?"
After finishing his statement, Shiller yawned, turned, and went into the preparation room, tired. Beck felt something was off, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.
With no one speaking, Beck lay back down on the bed. He had gotten up too early today and felt sleepy as soon as he lay down. Just as he was dozing off, Shiller woke him again.
"You can't go to sleep. There's an interrogation," Shiller said as he placed an ice cube on Beck's head. The cold shock jolted Beck sharply awake again, his head throbbing.
"This is abuse of a patient!"
"I'm just doing my job," Shiller said, looking very helpless as if dealing with an unreasonable child. "The reason you ended up in this situation today is your refusal to cooperate, and that's also why I'm stuck here."
"What more do you want me to do?!" Beck suddenly became very agitated, as if venting emotions that had been building up for a long time. "I've said it, I don't know what's going on!"
"I admit I changed identities to avoid the astronomical compensation, but I also passed the Space Station position review through my own abilities, didn't I? I've done well in my work too, right? What gives you the right to treat me like a criminal?"
"Because you are indeed a criminal," Natasha declared as she entered with several agents in tow.
The only unfamiliar face among the agents stepped forward two paces and flashed his badge at Beck, "Senior Agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, you are now under arrest for 26 charges including identity theft, endangering national aerospace security, and planning and executing terrorist attacks, Quentin Beck. Come with us."
Beck's eyes widened in disbelief, but Natasha crossed her arms and asked, "Do you really think you did your job well? Then who deleted the surveillance footage after the photovoltaic integrated device was destroyed?"
Beck's mouth fell open. He stammered, "I don't know! I..."
"You are the head of the software security department. You deserted your post after the disaster, leading to further escalation of the situation. Even if you didn't cause this yourself, you can't escape responsibility. Coupled with your changing identities to infiltrate the space station, charging you with endangering aerospace security isn't unjust at all."
"I'm not, but I found the key information at the end. If you don't believe me, you can go ask Dr. Sofia. I took them to the control room..."
But by then, the handcuffs were already clasped around Beck's wrists. He struggled frantically, but the agents didn't care and pulled him up from the hospital bed and started marching him out the door.
As he passed by Natasha, Beck caught a glimpse of a mocking smile on her face, triggering certain memories to flash through his mind.
He had seen Natasha before, back when he worked at Stark Group. He had watched her come and go from the labs, even seen her chatting amiably with Tony Stark.
She's one of Stark's people! Beck thought incredulously. The two of them are in it together!
Yes, how could he have forgotten? Stark was a capitalist magnate, perfectly capable of bribing agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation and S.H.I.E.L.D., and even judges and jurors. If they all insisted it was his negligence, he would surely be jailed!
No, no, there was still a chance. In his panic, Beck thought that although Stark was wealthy, he wasn't entirely without resources himself. He was Mysterio, and if he could find evidence to prove his innocence before the court hearing, there was still hope.
Beck turned to look at his phone.
It is widely known that most countries have a bail system. In minor crimes, suspects only need to pay a certain amount of bail money to signal their commitment to appear in court as required and can regain their freedom.
In America, paying bail almost guarantees full personal freedom. Many wealthy individuals can even travel everywhere before their court dates, without any restrictions, precisely because of this system.
That means Beck had one last chance to turn things around before the actual court hearing, which was to pay enough bail money and use the time during bail to search for evidence to prove his innocence.
If he didn't pay the bail, it would be nearly impossible to scale the walls and continue his grand superhero endeavors as he did in the hospital, with the FBI and S.H.I.E.L.D. watching over him, so he would surely choose to post bail.
Indeed, five hours after Beck's arrest, Schiller's phone rang, and Coulson's voice came through, "We've got a bit of a lead, Doctor. Want to come over and take a look?"
Schiller headed to S.H.I.E.L.D. Upon arriving at the office, Coulson and his subordinates were fiddling with computers. Seeing Schiller, Coulson immediately greeted him.
"Well done, Doctor, we seem to be getting somewhere," Coulson remarked as he led Schiller further inside and added, "The one who posted his bail was Dr. Sofia Adra, they appear to be colleagues, at least on the surface."
"But according to the data, Dr. Adra's finances couldn't cover Beck's bail. That's what her income stream indicates. Yet, she suddenly came up with a large sum of money to bail out Beck."
"Have you traced the source of the funds?"
"That's actually one of the leads," Coulson said, sitting down at a computer. "Two hours after Beck was arrested, Dr. Adra's account suddenly received a substantial, unaccounted-for deposit matching the exact amount needed for the bail."
Schiller narrowed his eyes, looking at Coulson, "Who gave her the money?"
"The money has gone through several international accounts; we are still tracing it. But usually, such funds are black money, very difficult to trace back to the original source."
"Chief!" One of the agents suddenly called out, "We've got it!"
Coulson and Schiller immediately walked over, and as Schiller peered at the screen, he noticed the funds ultimately originated from "Hong Kong."
"What are you saying?!" Beck exclaimed incredulously at the agent outside his cell, "I've already posted the bail money, why won't you let me go?"
"Sorry, we've come across another case of yours." The agent outside responded, "When you were employed at Stark Group, you damaged equipment in the lab. You're liable for 2 million US dollars in damages. If you can't pay this compensation, we cannot just let you go."
"On what grounds! I've already posted bail!" Beck banged on the bars, shouting at the agents outside who were not paying him any heed. After a long while, one agent finally said, "Remember, only suspects considered to have committed minor offenses and deemed eligible for bail can be released. Without a prior record, you would indeed be eligible for bail. However, considering your previous misconduct, you're likely no longer qualified for bail."
Beck hammered the bars in frustration, but he knew the agent was right. Generally speaking, it's difficult for repeat offenders to get bail, and even if they do, the amount required is exceedingly high.
His previous case implicated 2 million US dollars, and even by New York State regulations, considering the bail amount for a first-time imprisonment, he would need at least 200,000 US dollars for bail. He couldn't even come up with 20,000 US dollars at the moment, let alone 200,000.
"I want to see Sofia, I want to see Dr. Sofia!" Beck yelled, gripping the bars.