“Please don’t mind that I issued the commission to you via digital messages earlier.” “Money is all that matters.” Green stepped out of the elevator, pulled a container out of his tactical bag, and handed it over.
“Thank you.” Carlton Drake took the container and slid his thumb along its cylindrical surface.
A specialized metal panel on the side lowered, revealing a heart suspended in liquid inside.
The heart was still beating slowly, its surface faintly bulging into shapes resembling facial features.
Its main arteries swayed like aquatic weeds in the fluid, sprouting fine, web-like capillaries.
“Look at this…
even in a Kramer suppression solution, it still maintains low-level cellular proliferation.” Drake leaned in to inspect it, his tone filled with admiration.
“The original entity’s vitality must have been extraordinary.
How did you dispose of it?” “Flayed it alive.” The surroundings instantly fell dead silent for a second.
The faces of several assistants and researchers went visibly pale.
They instinctively took half a step back, positioning Drake in front of them.
“Heh.
Impressive.” Drake forced a twitch of his lips, his smile stiffening.
“No wonder so many people recommended you to me.” He seemed to have genuinely underestimated the man’s style of doing things.
But on second thought, such brutal methods were precisely suited for *that* job.
He casually handed the container to a stunned assistant beside him, turned to wave Green over, and regained his usual composure.
“Come, take a look at my achievements.” “Mm-hmm.” Green fell into step beside him.
“I’ve always yearned for space,” Drake said as he walked.
“Beyond our current detection capabilities, there may exist life forms similar to humans yet surviving in entirely different ways.” “Yet this planet beneath our feet also hides many organisms beyond the reach of modern science.
I want to understand them and use them to achieve a leap in our evolutionary scale.
Only then will I have enough time to explore the stars.” “Should I applaud for you, Mr.
Drake?” Green walked beside him, his gaze sweeping over the sealed containment units on both sides.
Trapped inside were “materials”—humans, chimpanzees, and various living specimens hard to classify.
Broadly speaking, test subjects.
Cold incandescent lights shone overhead, illuminating the identical numbness in their eyes.
“Showing me all this can’t just be to preach your grand ideals, can it?
When I was a kid, I dreamed of being an astronaut, too.” “Of course not.” *Bang!* Before he could finish, a dark shadow slammed into the glass of a nearby chamber.
The thing pressed itself against the transparent barrier, flailing wildly as its claws scraped against the glass with a grating screech.
“Are you running a Resident Evil experiment here?
He’s not gonna sprout tentacles all of a sudden, is he?” Green leaned in with genuine interest to observe.
The “person” inside had lost all hair, with multiple fine slits splitting the skin, and a thread-like object squirming beneath the flesh of his forehead.
“Is that some kind of parasite?” Green pointed at the wriggling mark.
“No, it’s hemp rope,” Drake explained calmly, stepping closer.
“Huh?” “1954, Francis Town, Kansas, United States.
A man named Greg Caulke used witchcraft to weave his deceased daughter’s body into a ball of hemp rope to commemorate her.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that my expedition found the completed sphere—and by then, it contained far more than just his daughter’s corpse.” “It extends hemp ropes possessing biological traits to sense, capture, and devour life, and can turn human bodies into controlled ‘rope-men.’ They possess a degree of intelligence, but mostly follow instinct.” “We severed a portion from the main body for research, but progress has been slow.
Once separated from the host for too long, they die.
We’ve collected several other similar ‘anomalous items,’ but we lack systematic research data on concepts involving abstract forces.” “Oh,” Green replied indifferently after listening.
“I consulted a few ‘professionals’ in this field, and they all advised me to halt the research.” Drake chuckled, satisfaction flashing in his eyes.
“But you’re different.
Your reaction is far too nonchalant.
Either you don’t care how far we go, or you’re strong enough to look down on our little antics.” “Cut to the chase.
Don’t probe me.
I only care about money,” Green said bluntly.
“OK.” Drake took a tablet from his assistant.
“One of my subsidiaries is developing a substance expected to reverse physical aging back to youth.
But I need critical data, which is currently controlled by Black Lake Genetics, a company with military backing.” As he spoke, he pulled up files on the screen.
“And through special channels, I learned that the source of that data comes from a single place—a region blockaded under a ‘secret alliance’ between the White Bear and the United States since the end of World War II.” Green glanced at the screen.
Aerial helicopter footage showed a bottomless canyon surrounded by dense forests.
Multiple automated auto-cannons were deployed on both cliffs, alongside sensor-triggered bomb clusters suspended along the precipice.
The primary area of personnel activity was two watchtowers overlooking each other from opposite sides.
The canyon floor was shrouded in thick fog, hiding everything beneath.
“The intelligence we have is still limited, but I can guarantee a one-hundred-percent safe exfiltration, and any record of your identity in this operation will be completely erased.
No one will ever know who did it.” “Mmm…
‘One hundred percent’?” Green handed the tablet back, a faint smile touching his lips.
“Doesn’t sound safe at all.
Did you learn that pitch from Hollywood blockbusters?” “Mostly, yes.
However—” “I’ll take it.” “Huh?
Oh…
all right.” The rest of Drake’s rehearsed pitch choked in his throat.
“I need a set of Level 5 military gear, detailed intelligence on the personnel stationed in the canyon, and a complete map of their firepower distribution.” Through the glass, Green pointed his index finger at the rope-man’s head.
Enraged, the creature thrashed wildly against the glass and roared at him, its warm breath condensing into a haze of white mist on the pane.
Green glanced sideways at Drake.
“You can manage that, right?” The tone of his words sounded more like a superior issuing orders to a subordinate.
“No problem!” Drake said, unable to hide his excitement.
Realizing he was losing his composure, he coughed softly and quickly smoothed his expression.
“Send the exact details to the burner website I used to contact you.
Anything else?” “Nothing else.
I will assemble a professional team to support you.” Drake’s gaze settled on Green, growing increasingly fervent.
“I have a feeling that your presence will be the key to fulfilling my vision.
Just look at this body—it’s practically the pinnacle of evolutionary life I envisioned.
Why not leave a set of physical data with me?” “Whoa, whoa, alright,” Green swatted away the hand Drake was reaching toward him.
“Keep your fucking hands to yourself.
I sell skills, not my body.
Go back to playing astronaut.” “Ahem…
I will be in touch shortly.” “Business only!” Green turned and walked off, his pace quickening slightly.
“Of course, business only.
I like valuable partners.” Drake watched Green’s retreating back, the smile draining from his face like warmth fading away, leaving behind only gloomy depth beneath the cold lab lighting.
How could someone who single-handedly built a technological empire like the Life Foundation be governed by superficial emotions?
Had he not thoroughly investigated Green’s track record beforehand, the man would have become a new display piece in one of the containment units lining this hallway the moment he handed over the item.
But now, his expectations for Green went far beyond that.
“Accelerate the development of the deep-space vessel.
I will not have our cosmic exploration fall behind schedule.” “Yes, sir.” A flicker of unsuppressed malice flashed in his eyes.
“Every head of Hydra has its strengths and weaknesses, but I will become the strongest.” “Hail Hydra.” The surrounding researchers stopped what they were doing, their faces filled with fanaticism.
“Hail Hydra!!” *Ding—* The elevator doors slid open.
Green walked straight out of the building and drew a deep breath of the cool outdoor air.
“‘Identity completely erased…'” A derisive smirk touched the corner of his lips.
Just like when Drake first contacted him online for the commission, Drake didn’t trust him—and the feeling was mutual.
A few meetings didn’t make them best friends.
What was certain was that Drake needed him and made a good first impression.
Even though malice lurked behind the man’s eyes, that actually put Green more at ease than fake kindness.
He was used to dealing with bad people.
Take it one step at a time.
Hmm…
this actually felt pretty fun!
“Sir, shall I hail a car for you?” The doorman hurried over, his tone respectful.
“Don’t bother.” Green waved a hand dismissively, walked to the curb, pulled out his phone, and skillfully unlocked a shared e-scooter.
Under the doorman’s bewildered gaze, he swung a leg over the vehicle, which was hilariously undersized for his massive frame.
His tall physique looked absurd against the frail frame, like a skinny gazelle trying to support a full-grown male lion.
The tires sagged noticeably, and the frame groaned in metallic protest.
He casually waved a hand back over his shoulder.
“Bye-bye~” “Good…
goodbye.” “So tiny.
Can’t they make these things bigger?” Green adjusted the ridiculously comical yellow safety helmet on his head, a sinister grin spreading unabashedly across his face.
“Brunch first.
Then…
revenge.” As the wind rushed past his ears, he lowered his voice, as if talking to himself, yet declaring a promise: “What a delightful morning.” “Jie-jie-jie…” His low chuckle faded into the late-morning New York breeze, disappearing into the flowing cityscape along with that little yellow helmet.