"I extracted the serum from the victim's body and managed to reverse-engineer as much of the drug composition as possible."
"Based on the DNA sequencing results and biological algorithms, the drug's composition—which is a virus carrying a specific sequence—is identical to the sequence we used on the Little Andean iguanas."
"This is a counterfeit, but the counterfeiter simply copied the DNA and made a crude version of the drug."
"You must understand, in each of our experiments, we carefully collect the subject's DNA sequence and use a decay algorithm, calculating rigorously before incorporating it into the viral sequence."
Peter sketched a lot on the whiteboard, but Captain Stacy was still baffled.
"Virus? So, you've been messing with viruses all this time?"
Leo thought for a moment, picked up another marker, and started drawing on the board.
"Captain, think of it like a bullet, a 'gene' bullet, where the right proportion is needed to produce the gunpowder inside."
"And only the right gunpowder can hit the target we're aiming for."
On the board, bullets flew out, guided by gravity, and landed precisely in place.
Initial velocity affects the trajectory, and it's largely determined by the energy from the gunpowder.
Now Stacy got it—he rubbed his chin. "If the gunpowder ratio is wrong, it hits somewhere else. I see, so the lab used a half-baked gunpowder formula that night?"
"But how do we prove that? I mean, if the gunpowder formula isn't public, there's no way to prove the lab head's misconduct."
The gunpowder formula was, of course, the synthesis method for the iguana drug, and it couldn't be made public.
"Exactly," Peter nodded. "Which is why I found some other elements in there, something akin to a bullet casing."
Still using Leo's analogy, Peter explained that aside from the main components, the drug also contained auxiliary elements, which were like bullet casings.
"This gene-modifying drug is like specialized ammunition—"
"Armor-piercing rounds," Leo snapped his fingers, "like depleted uranium armor-piercing rounds."
Peter continued, "Yes, exactly. Specialized ammunition made from a fixed formula alloy, just like a depleted uranium armor-piercing round."
"Only this kind of ammunition can pierce our target—so we would never use steel for the material."
"Right, steel isn't easy to maintain and jams frequently."
"That's the point. And in the Canary container, we detected other components in the drug that could cause the virus—or gene bullet—to miss its target. There's no reason to mix such elements in gene research."
Interestingly, this particular component could be traced back to the lab's experimental history—
In other words, if evidence could show that the lab personnel were following protocol, then it must be a design flaw in the Canary apparatus itself.
This flaw caused residual drugs to mix with new ones during replacement, proving that the Canary device had a leakage risk."
"What flaw is that?"
Peter hesitated. "I reviewed the scan structure of the Canary device. My guess is that frequent drug changes and long standby periods led to equipment degradation."
"The device wasn't designed to last that long."
Captain Stacy nodded slightly—
In that case, the hypocritical U.S. academician would be in deep trouble—the guy even bribed the media to dismiss this as a baseless rumor!
The Canary device's design flaw was real, but it was never intended for continuous, round-the-clock use!
The U.S. academician's exploitation of students had, in fact, caused several grad students to develop cancer and even die!
"Can you replicate the entire process?"
"I can try, but the Canary device is patented, so we might need cooperation from Oscorp."
"I'll handle it—"
Captain Stacy put on his coat, grabbed his police cap, and called a squad car via radio, heading straight for the prosecutor's office.
In the room, Peter let out a long sigh of relief—
This was his best chance to reduce his sentence during his probation.
Yet, the more he got involved, the guiltier he felt: The problem with Lab No. 3 stemmed from the head's exploitation of the staff.
And with Professor Connors? Peter himself was the one causing trouble.
Leo saw through his guilt and patted him on the shoulder. "There are unforgivable, irreparable mistakes in this world, but yours isn't one of them. Stop sighing all the time."
Martin, who had been observing Peter, nodded repeatedly. "I understand now why you gave this young man a chance. Nice to meet you; I'm Martin Li."
He extended his hand, and Leo introduced him: "Our new business partner, a rising star in the financial world."
"Hello, Mr. Li," Peter said, pausing, looking at Leo.
"Yes, we share a similar last name, but no, we're not related. Now, what's your next step? This may have something to do with Oscorp."
Leo hit the nail on the head—Martin was most interested in how this situation would affect Oscorp.
"Mr. Osborn has always treated me well, but... you're right. I plan to go to the hospital to speak with the survivors about what happened that night."
"I don't want to interfere with Captain Stacy's investigation, but it seems all the drugs used in Lab No. 3 were supplied by Oscorp."
"Academician Ethan has close ties with Oscorp, and it's no coincidence that Oscorp has the technology. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but it's too coincidental to ignore."
Martin suddenly interjected with interest. "Academician Ethan? Head of the oncology department at NYU Medical Center? That department is also sponsored by Oscorp."
"Can this conversation be released to the media?" Martin asked.
Leo thought for a moment. "Let's see how the survivors are doing first."
The three of them put on their coats and prepared to leave.
However, Peter was still on probation. Although he was providing technical assistance to the NYPD, his freedom was limited, and he needed a police escort.
That escort—
[Cyber Modulator Alert: Short-range detection of a special frequency signal indicates possible surveillance.]
[Attempting counter-surveillance.]
Leo frowned.
His current cybernetic implant had been replaced—the cyber modulator was swapped for an NCPD cell-based modulator with wireless signal reception and transmission capabilities.
After crossing into this world, Leo had immediately adjusted the modulator's parameters to fit the Marvel universe's network.
And now, the cell-based modulator detected an irregular frequency.
In the room, Peter was talking with the officer in charge of monitoring him, leaving just Leo and Martin.
If Martin were trying to listen in, he wouldn't have started now.
Is there an issue with the officer?
Or maybe the officer's device has a backdoor, allowing an unknown party to eavesdrop unnoticed.
"...Got it. I also want an officer to record our conversation—alright, let's go."
Peter finished talking with the officer and waved at Leo and Martin.
[Low surveillance quality.]
[Signal waveform recorded.]
[This frequency is highly concealed, with significant distortion. Misinterpretation possible. Connect to professional eavesdropping equipment for verification.]
It was indeed the officer's equipment that was transmitting the signal.
With caution in mind, Leo hacked into an unknown base station and used a nonexistent number to call Gwen.
"Urgent, come quick, NYU Downtown Hospital."
Oscorp.
Amidst the military-industrial stock market boom, Oscorp was falling behind.
The reason for the lag was the long-term lack of substantial results, despite receiving a large amount of military funding.
Now, the scandal at NYU's Lab No. 3 was adding to their headaches.
Norman Osborn took a call, his veins bulging on his forehead—the person on the other end was insufferable.
"Mr. Osborn, please help me! I was just following your instructions to experiment with the new drug; how was I supposed to know this would happen?"
"...Are you sure? Are you sure the Canary device malfunction has nothing to do with you?"
"I... I just wanted quick results."
"Heh, more like you're rushing to use the data for your good-for-nothing son to graduate, right?"
"Well... I... but Norman, the results are tied to your son too! I'm not the only one doing this!"
"True, but you're the one who messed this up. Fix it yourself!"
Norman hung up on Academician Ethan—he had already destroyed as much evidence as possible, so it would be almost impossible for Ethan to link it back to him.
Even if someone connected the counterfeit iguana drug to Oscorp, how could they prove its relationship to the company?
Besides, even if they could, the drug leak was clearly Ethan's doing, and cancer was the primary cause of death!
Those students didn't die purely because of the iguana drug!
It was sold.
But it still wasn't safe.
Norman hung up, looking at the person across the desk, a man in a suit, hidden in the shadows, his face obscured.
"You're in trouble, Mr. Osborn, but as I suggested, you have a lot of resources, and so do I."
"But some people are always hindered by laughable moral constraints, preventing technological progress—together, we can get out of this."
Norman stared at the man, shaking his head. "This isn't just about morality. This is America—moral expectations can be weaponized."
"For instance, I need a lot of human test subjects, but if I do that here, Oscorp will be crushed by politicians and rival companies tomorrow."
"So, we don't do it here—there are plenty of people in the Middle East, Eastern Europe, Africa. Why else do you think we fight wars? It's for those resources—people can also be a resource."
The speaker stretched his arms, appearing confident and charming, like the kind of approachable businessman you often see on TV. But his words were utterly terrifying.
Norman thought for a moment and cautiously replied, "Let's see what you've got."
The man in the shadows leaned forward slightly. "The Lizard serum is in your hands—I know. So let's find something that interests everyone.
"I know you're sponsoring a brain-computer interface project, and it's already showing results."
Norman raised an eyebrow. "Dr. Otto's research. The government is also backing that project—it's not just up to me."
"I know, I know. Otto is a smart man, playing both the government and private sector. His research is like a treasure locked in a vault, and only two keys can open it.
"And those holding the keys are afraid the other will steal the fruit of their labor.
"I, on the other hand, am someone who can rebuild trust—you can trust me."
"I see. Actually, I've based a type of bio-suit on Otto's interface design, but the neural link's efficiency isn't great.
"However, human genetic modification could enhance that efficiency. Maybe you'd be interested in that?"
The man in the shadows smiled in satisfaction and stood up, draping an arm over Norman's shoulder.
"That's the spirit. Welcome to the American Military-Industrial Club, where we contribute to the greatness of our nation.
"Oh, by the way, I can provide you with a few volunteers right now—don't worry, they're just societal scum.
"Criminals, illegal immigrants, vagrants, gang members... Ugh, like cockroaches, they're multiplying every year."