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85.07% Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics / Chapter 3649: Chapter 2776: Stellar Core Rescue (27)

章節 3649: Chapter 2776: Stellar Core Rescue (27)

Mysterio operated the drone, cautiously firing the first laser beam. Of course, he had no other choice – it was either this or the space station would be destroyed, and everyone would die.

Although Mysterio had brazenly woven such a grand conspiracy involving the space station, he had never anticipated the current situation. When it came to defusing bombs, he was a complete amateur. No novice could remain calm in such circumstances.

And to make matters worse, Parker kept causing trouble, one moment telling him to keep the laser straight, the next to swerve it. Mysterio dared not disobey, as controlling the drone was already exhausting enough, leaving no spare energy to scrutinize the bomb's condition.

Time ticked away, second by second, and sweat poured down from under Mysterio's helmet, dripping from his eyebrows to his eyelashes, trickling down his beard, and soaking the collar of his armor's lining.

02:15, the laser cut off a corner, making it possible to lift the floor, proving the plan could succeed.

01:59, the laser gently peeled open the floor on the right side.

01:01, the laser moved to the left side, with more than half already cut. Now only the final touches were left.

00:35, the floor was entirely cut open, the drone grasped the bomb's four corners, and the bomb slowly rose into the air.

00:20, with a bang, the space station's glass shattered, oxygen rapidly escaping. Yet, at the same moment, the bomb also flew out the window.

00:15, just as Mysterio breathed a sigh of relief, he suddenly felt something interfering with his control of the drone, the signal starting to break up. The drone, with the bomb still not far away, began to wobble and lose control.

"No! It can't go out of control now!" Mysterio roared in his mind, "If it explodes at this distance, the space station won't escape either!"

With a flourish of his cloak, Mysterio leaped out of the window. The drone, carrying him, headed towards the bomb. As they approached, the signal became clearer, so he hastily directed the drone to fly even further away.

However, every time the drone moved about ten meters away from him, the signal would become extremely weak. Gritting his teeth and stamping his foot, Mysterio pushed the drone to its full power, speeding away with the bomb as fast as possible.

Of course, the spectators in the live broadcast room didn't know he was using a drone. They just saw Mysterio elevating the bomb with a mysterious energy, flying further and further away, leaving the space station far behind, squarely facing the dangerous bomb alone – an act that could be called the greatest feat of the century.

00:05, the bomb finally reached a safe distance. At that time, Mysterio also identified the culprit for the signal interruption: it was a mysterious clump of grey fog.

But he had no time to look closely; he turned and ran. However, five seconds was not enough time to escape the explosion. The bomb detonated, and Mysterio was hurled backward.

In the last second before his vision darkened, he saw a massive escort ship slowly heading towards the space station.

"Balk... Balk..."

A voice kept calling to him.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared in his field of view, causing Beck's eyes to hurt. He blinked hard, trying to avoid the light, feeling dryness spread across his eyelids. Tears welled up, and after his eyelids were moistened, he finally managed to open his eyes.

A black-haired doctor wearing glasses stood in front of his bed, bent over examining his eyes. It was his flashlight that was flashing the annoying light.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Beck tried to shield his eyes with his hand, but realized he had no strength.

Fortunately, the doctor immediately withdrew the flashlight, waved his hand in front of him, and said, "Justin Balk, do you remember your name?"

"Damn it, of course, where am I now?"

"You're in a hospital," the doctor sighed, "It's strange, everyone else is alright. How did you get injured so badly? Thankfully, your colleagues found you passed out in the storage room; otherwise, you'd be dead."

Beck finally remembered everything – the bomb had exploded, and he hadn't been able to avoid it. However, the drone he had set up had an automatic defense feature; once it detected its owner was unconscious, it would take him back to the original setting point. It was the drone that had dragged him back to the space station, saving his life.

Beck's head started to hurt, and he saw the doctor turn a knob, which lessened the pain. He said, "Thank you, doctor, what's your name?"

"You can call me Shiller. I'm your primary care physician. Oh God, your injuries have alarmed the S.H.I.E.L.D Director himself. Agents have searched the space station high and low, but they can't determine who injured you so severely."

Balk immediately shouted, "It was a monster, there were monsters, a flame monster that was chasing me!"

"Indeed, we found some burns on you," Shiller sighed, "Do you feel any discomfort? Think carefully, are there any gaps in your memory?"

Balk stared blankly for a moment, his mind was a muddle and he couldn't remember anything, but he still said, "No, I'm fine."

"That's good; it will ensure you can provide all the information about the monster to S.H.I.E.L.D. They won't let your injuries be in vain."

Balk saw Shiller continue the examination. Only then did he belatedly feel the pain in his arms, chest, and legs. He inhaled sharply and asked, "Am I badly injured?"

"Very badly, so much so that S.H.I.E.L.D authorized a cure potion for you..."

"No, I don't want any potion!"

"It's already been administered. It's a modified version for ordinary people. It takes some time to work and will leave you weak for a while, but don't worry too much. You'll be better in a week."

Balk seemed somewhat relieved at that, he said, "What about my friends? Are they all right?"

"They're much better than you. They weren't injured," Shiller shook his head, "But some of them were mentally shaken and are undergoing psychological treatment. You have about three sessions of counseling yourself..."

"I don't need any counseling."

```

"Are you sure? I used to be Stark's psychologist, and my fee was 3 million US dollars per hour."

"But I feel like I've been a bit shocked too."

Shiller laughed, "You are now the focus of everyone's attention."

Balk immediately tensed up, then he heard Shiller say, "Because you are the one who was injured the most seriously. If you don't survive, we'll have our first casualty in this major accident."

"Does that mean the others are still alive?"

"Yes, thanks to the scientists who calculated the safe trajectory for the escort ship to approach Earth at top speed and successfully evacuated everyone from the space station. Now, the towing spacecraft are dismantling the space station."

"What about the other half?"

"It has safely landed in the sea. Now it's up to China-America-Australia to handle the salvage and rescue, and all personnel have been confirmed safe. However, many are requesting to retrieve data, so the evacuation is proceeding in order."

Balk let out a sigh of relief—regardless of everything, the situation had turned out fairly well.

Afterward, he got his phone and saw news that filled him with surprise. Turns out, that damned evil robot had live-streamed the entire incident to show off its power to the human race. Of course, the most commendable aspect was Mysterio's incredible strength and selfless dedication.

He was now the hottest superhero on Earth.

One could even say he was more popular than seasoned heroes like Spider-Man, Iron Man, and Captain America, since it had been way too long since their last appearance. Mysterio, however, was in high demand.

Balk was eager to share the good news with his team, but Shiller said apologetically, "Sorry, apart from me, you cannot contact anyone else. Even with me, it's a humanitarian measure approved by Nick Fury…"

"Why?!" Balk asked, puzzled.

"Because S.H.I.E.L.D is a special agent organization, and you're the only one in this accident who witnessed the so-called monster with your own eyes. You know, until they completely understand what this is all about, they wouldn't want this information to get out."

"They want to detain me?!"

"Although I'd like to say this isn't detention, just healing or something along those lines, as your psychologist, I must tell you the truth. Yes, you're under house arrest. You can't go anywhere but the hospital until they've gotten enough useful information from you."

Balk wanted to punch the bed with force, but he couldn't muster the strength. Had he known this would happen, he would never have separated Mysterio from his true identity—then the public would never have allowed these damned agents to treat their hero like this!

"Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D is more interested in that powerful mysterious person than you right now. They are spending a lot of effort investigating the so-called Mysterio, and you've almost been forgotten. So you might have to stay here for a very long time."

Balk felt even more suffocated. After a long moment, he asked, "Is there someone guarding me?"

Shiller didn't answer, just stood up, walked to the door and opened it to show him the line of agents in the corridor, unsurprisingly.

Balk sighed in annoyance and then looked at Shiller, who spread his hands and said, "Yes, I'm stuck here with you because if you do tell some truth, I'm also a subject to be kept confidential and just as unable to leave."

"Alright, give me your phone. They want to announce on the internet that you're not dead. They need your account."

"How can they…"

"Obviously, they can do anything." Shiller seemed quite accustomed to this, taking the mobile phone from Balk's hand and saying, "You might as well get used to it, this is what being an agent is like."

Balk felt powerless; he could barely lift one arm, and as he watched Shiller's profile, he suddenly remembered, "Aren't you that doctor?"

The doctor who had looked at him with such disdain from the stands.

"That's right, it was me. But is that strange? S.H.I.E.L.D has only one professional psychologist, of course, I have to do whatever job is required."

"But you saw that monster too…"

"I'm an insider; my testimony is invalid. The old men in Congress wouldn't believe a psychologist employed by S.H.I.E.L.D, only you can convince them the monster really exists."

Balk saw Shiller make a slightly scornful twist of his mouth and said, "Seriously, your performance that day was pretty pathetic, you know you looked like you were about to piss yourself, right?"

Balk's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Shiller. Shiller turned to look at him and said, "Yes, they sent me to eliminate the overdramatic parts from your testimony. Please, if you worked a week, no, probably just three days at S.H.I.E.L.D, you'd see monsters far more terrifying than that."

"Of course, you're a civilian; we can't be too hard on you. But it wouldn't be good if, because of your overreaction, you exaggerate the monster into some apocalyptic catastrophe causing panic. I'll keep an eye on your testimony."

Balk clenched his teeth and roared at Shiller, "You just want to cover up the truth! You damned agents."

"Don't worry, you'll soon see what really damned agents are like." Shiller smiled and opened the door.

The expressionless Natasha walked in.

"Justin Balk or should I call you Quentin Beck, I'm Natasha Romanoff, a Level 8 Agent with S.H.I.E.L.D, and I'm here under the orders of the S.H.I.E.L.D Director to interrogate you."

"But before that, we need to talk about how you hid your identity to infiltrate the space station and became the head of software security."

```


next chapter

章節 3650: Chapter 2777: Star Core Rescue (28)

Natasha flipped through the notebook in her hand. She glanced coldly at Beck and said, "Quentin Beck, graduated from Massachusetts Institute of Technology with a major in Computer Software and Security, later obtaining both a master's and PhD in the same field. Six years ago, you joined the Stark Group Headquarters and became a researcher in Laboratory No. 2306. You also rose to be the deputy team leader of the project and, a year later, became the team leader."

But about two years ago, you left Stark Group. You disappeared for a whole year. Upon your return, you had become Justin Balk, also a graduate from MIT and a Software Security Engineer, with an impeccable resume including work experience in major companies around the world. Leveraging this resume, you successfully gained employment at the Stella Core Space Station.

Natasha closed the notebook and stared at Beck. "Can you tell me what happened during that year?"

"That's my personal privacy," Beck said with a frigid tone.

"I hope you'll be just as tough in court," Natasha remarked. "I hope you're aware that before you left for space, 63 countries around the world had jointly passed the Human Spaceflight Safety Act No. 1, which allows for the prosecution of any individual or organization that endangers spaceflight safety. One clause stipulates that anyone who assumes another person's identity to participate in space work is considered a threat to human spaceflight safety and will face prosecution in their home country."

"Even though you've changed your identity, you haven't changed your nationality. You're still an American. According to the American Spaceflight Safety Act, drafted by Congress three years ago, anyone who threatens the safety of American spaceflight will be subjected to an accumulative sentence without an upper limit, depending on the severity of their actions."

"Moreover, according to the United States National Security Act No. 36, anyone who alters or conceals their personal identity to engage in illegal activities will also face charges under 72 different counts, including disturbing national security and obstructing justice."

"I just did a little calculation. Considering the seriousness of your crimes, you're likely to face 16 charges, totaling approximately 392 years of imprisonment."

"Do you have anything to say about this?"

"It's not my fault!" Beck struggled to sit up from the bed, yelling, "I didn't commit any crimes! It's all Stark's fault!"

"Unless you can produce evidence, it's going to be very hard for a jury to believe that," Natasha continued. "You know how serious the matter of the space station's fall is. Even the slightest association with it will not earn you any leniency from the jury."

"Let's talk about Stark," Natasha sighed, picking up another document. "Although Howard Stark isn't currently with Stark Group, the former leader and current shareholder used his authority to pull up your work records with Stark Group."

"The records show that you repeatedly refused to comply with work transfers. You even had physical conflicts with staff from other laboratories and refused to accept the group's handling of the situation, forcing them to resort to judicial measures. As a result, you owe more than two million US dollars in debts."

Natasha crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knees, saying, "Personally, I can understand changing your identity to hide from debts, but what I really can't figure out is why you would cause such a mess in the lab? As far as I know, Stark Group treats its employees very well. Even for a secondary researcher like you, the salary was five to six times higher than other research institutes..."

"But that Bolent is an idiot!" Beck ground his teeth and cursed. "He belittled my research topic. Even though I became the leader of the research group, he got transferred to the administrative department and kept finding fault with me every day..."

"And that damn Peter Parker. He's in cahoots with them. On the surface, they say my research project isn't important, but behind the scenes, they want to steal my research findings..."

"Hold on a second," Natasha interrupted. "Bolent?"

The agent lowered her head to look through her documents, flashing a look of realization before saying, "He was the team leader when you were the deputy clan leader, right? You didn't get along with him?"

Beck's mouth was full of curses, uttering incoherent rants. In essence, he accused Bolent, Peter, and Stark of being in league, suppressing him outwardly, but really trying to drive him out to take over his research findings.

"About your research findings..." Natasha took a soft breath and said, "I've also accessed related documents."

Beck choked like someone's hand was squeezing his throat, letting out a short gasp, then fell silent. He feared Natasha might suspect something about Mysterio's identity.

Despite the fact that the monsters used unmodified original equipment and Mysterio's special effects were his own upgraded versions, crafted without any templates, he was still feeling guilty, worried that someone would see through him.

"I have a question. Weren't you working in software security? Why the sudden shift to visual effects? Are the highly popular, new special effects devices in the entertainment industry your masterpiece?"

"Stark stole my research findings!" Beck claimed. "But yes, those were indeed my techniques. I was just interested in that area."

"I must remind you," Natasha couldn't help but speak up, "your employment contract clearly stated that Stark Group has the right of first refusal for patents from its researchers. After formally acquiring the patents through due process, the rights to use the patents belong solely to Stark Group. The research team only retains the right of acknowledgment."

"According to Stark Group's internal files, three months after your technology was completed, Stark Group initiated the patent acquisition. All the acquisition processes were finalized half a month before you left the company. This means that the patent technology now legally and legitimately belongs to Stark Group, which has the right to earn all income from it."

"If you didn't want to give any of your independent research projects to Stark Group, why did you sign the employment contract in the first place?"

Facing Natasha's probing gaze, Beck stammered without a clear response. Then Natasha somewhat understood—he said they offered too much, right? During that long time you worked after that, haven't you ever considered why the Stark Group was willing to pay you such a high salary?

"They monopolize patents…" Beck finally choked out a term.

Whether they are monopolizing technology will be investigated by professional anti-monopoly departments. But I must remind you. If you disclose any information about this technology to others or produce it privately, and you are sued by Stark Group, the compensation for patent infringement you'll need to pay will be astronomical.

Beck turned pale.

He whispered "I didn't do it" under his breath, yet he couldn't articulate a well-reasoned rebuttal. Seeing him like this, Natasha had no options left—the female agent could only conclude that this guy was at fault.

Natasha had started with this question because she was also worried that certain people within the Stark Group might use their authority to seize technology, but based on current evidence, there's no issue with the patent acquisition process. This kind of special technology isn't Stark Group's main business, so it's not a question of monopoly. Beck isn't a victim.

Just like Natasha said, if you don't want to share the technology with others, then don't sign the contract. These big companies always videotape their contract signings, where the terms are clearly displayed. There are professional legal practitioners who explain the contract terms to the employees; there's no fraud or dual contracts involved. But Beck still signed.

It simply came down to the fact that Stark Group offered a lot. Not only was the salary six times higher than the market rate, but they also paid an additional patent fee during the acquisition. After a subsequent investigation into Beck's personal account, the money had clearly gone straight into Beck's pockets.

In this light, Stark Group appears to be the victim. They followed the contract and paid the salary, and on top of that, a hefty fee for patent acquisition. Now they also face the risk of patent leaks.

Although Natasha has never sympathized with capitalists, Beck isn't a good person either. The most unfortunate were the researchers in his same team. In case the technology really leaked, they would be the first to lose their jobs. What wrong have these ordinary people done?

Well, Mr. Beck. It seems the debt you're shouldering is going to be far far more than just a few million dollars. I hope you can repay it in your lifetime. Natasha chose to turn the page on this subject and ask for something truly useful.

One last question for today. Just answer honestly, and we'll conclude the inquiry—Who helped you change your identity?

Yet this question seemed to stab straight into Beck's chest. Suddenly, he turned pale with rapid breathing. Shiller walked over and pushed the female agent aside. He should examine Beck.

"Stress-induced apnea," Shiller turned and shouted. Nurse! Prepare for intubation!

Natasha stood up, glanced at Beck, then said, "It seems we can't proceed today. I hope you do your utmost to treat him, doctor.

"I will. You should leave now. I believe what you've learned today is enough for you to report back.

After Natasha left, Shiller went to adjust the ventilator. Severe apnea is a troublesome ailment. Patients suddenly forget how to breathe and require external assistance. Otherwise, they'd end up suffocating like fish out of water.

Luckily, Beck was in the hospital. The treatment methods here were very advanced. It didn't take long to save him. Shiller stood by the bed and looked at Beck with some helplessness, saying, "I wasn't wrong about you. You really are weak."

Beck conveyed his anger with his eyes. But he couldn't fully adapt to the rhythm of the ventilator and could hardly speak.

"Have you had prior episodes of apnea?" Shiller casually asked while adjusting the breathing tube.

Beck shook his head, his eyes a bit lifeless as he stared at the ceiling, feeling his tense windpipe finally relax a bit. Breathing became smoother.

"As you can see, I am a psychologist, and next, I'm going to conduct some psychological therapy on you," Shiller said tiredly, rubbing his forehead. "Let's start with the paperwork."

For the next approximately thirty minutes, Beck filled out several forms. Xile asked him some very basic questions then told him they were finished. Beck suspected Xile was brushing him off, but he had no evidence.

This made Beck even angrier. He felt that Xile was a sycophant who kowtowed to Stark. Because Stark paid him a hefty salary, he would try his best to please this wealthy man. Now that he was helplessly lying in bed, he was being given the run-around.

Why was the whole world targeting him???

Moreover, every time his breathing was about to stabilize or he was about to fall asleep from exhaustion, Shiller would fiddle with the ventilator or adjust the breathing tube, making it impossible for him to sleep at all. This damned doctor must be following Stark's orders to torture him!

This anger and frustration slowly brewed into a storm in Parker's heart.


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