Chapter 103: Simmons' Secret Research

How much is a trusted elite agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. worth? How much is the life of a superhero worth? How much is the life of a government official, or even one’s own life worth?

Life is precious beyond measure. Lu Dan understood this clearly, yet he had to put a price on it; otherwise, there was no way to negotiate.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had no surplus funds. They had grown accustomed to spending lavishly, but their liquid capital was limited. Moreover, Master Wang had already swindled a good portion of it, and what remained had to be used to train secret agents and build covert bases.

They say it’s hard to be a subordinate, but being the leader wasn’t any easier.

“How much?” Lu Dan asked.

Old Wang pondered for a moment.

A five-meter-long dragon tailbone was exchanged for 0.1 grams of Azeroth’s Blood, roughly equating to a billion dollars.

That piece of dragon bone was heavy; calculated carefully, one gram of dragon bone was worth over a thousand dollars, about one-seventh or one-eighth the value of vibranium.

Even without additives, 250 grams of dragon bone should be enough to resurrect a person, which meant about $250,000.

A construction worker who died in an accident wouldn’t even receive that much in compensation—likely only half. Women and the elderly wouldn’t even get half of that. No matter how much extra there was, it was worthless; human lives were the same.

Of course, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents or other more important individuals were definitely worth much more, so...

“Ten thousand dollars per gram,” Old Wang said flatly. “No bargaining.”

“Why don’t you just rob it?” Lu Dan blurted out.

Two kilograms for twenty million dollars? For such a small piece?

Lu Dan didn’t know what to say. This “Immortal Iron Fist” was truly ruthless—darker than his own face.

I’m not the dark one—you are!

Old Wang just smiled silently.

Buy it or not; if you don’t, someone else will—like wealthy tycoons on the brink of death.

Don’t even mention two and a half million dollars.

Even if it cost two and a half billion to save a life, they’d be willing!

Of course, there were side effects, but compared to death, they were negligible.

Material possessions are insignificant; life is the most precious.

The closer you get to death, the more you realize this.

“All right, I want 10 kilograms,” Lu Dan said, hoping to buy more but unable to afford it. Their liquid funds weren’t that abundant, and other aspects had to be taken care of.

Besides, although Master Wang was slippery, he probably wouldn’t lie. But what if?

Better to have it tested first!

There should still be bone powder residue on the resurrection coffin; a comparison would reveal the truth.

If it really worked, it wouldn’t be too late to buy more once the next batch of funds arrived.

“Anything extra is on the house. Eat well and come back for more.”

Old Wang sifted through hundreds of dragon bone fragments, picked one just over 10 kilograms, and casually tossed it to Lu Dan, who hastily caught it.

This was worth 100 million dollars—equivalent to a tenth of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s annual budget. Even a speck the size of a fingernail falling would cause a pang of pain!

“Anything else?” Old Wang was ready to see him off.

“No,” Lu Dan couldn’t wait a second longer. He hurriedly took the dragon bone and had it personally escorted to Tahiti.

With the Krogan corpse, the resurrection coffin, and now the dragon bone, he believed the “Tahiti Project” would soon make progress. Extending life and rising from death was no longer a dream. He wanted to live another five hundred years for the safety of the world.

Black Widow was the bodyguard. Though she wanted to talk to Old Wang about “Qi,” there was clearly no time now. They could chat electronically later.

Soon, the two drove off in Lu Dan’s “Chevrolet—Great Air Conditioning—Suburban” SUV.

Fitz and Simmons moved their luggage into the shop, feeling somewhat lost and unsure what to do.

Coming from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s science division to an Azeroth specialty store felt awkward—too much like everyday life.

“What are your ideas? For example, what would you like to research?” Old Wang sipped tea and asked with a smile.

The Dark Grimoire wasn’t omnipotent; it contained limited knowledge, much of it quite arcane.

Although Fitz and Simmons were among the world’s top young scientists, they were still a few tiers below the likes of Hank Pym or Dr. Banner. Understanding the Dark Grimoire wasn’t easy.

Lucy and her team weren’t bad either—they had studied for several years. No matter how brilliant Fitz and Simmons were, it would take months to produce results.

Besides, the Dark Grimoire seemed mainly related to quantum mechanics or physics, which suited Fitz better.

Simmons held dual doctorates in biology and chemistry, which was less relevant.

It wasn’t like working for the government or certain corporations; fields felt like mountains apart.

“Our lab is currently focused on brain mapping and memory uploading, with future plans for virtual technology, quantum computing, and dimensional space research,” Old Wang briefly explained.

Fitz and Simmons exchanged glances, both surprised by the other’s expression.

What Mr. Wang described were the cutting-edge frontiers of research. Though S.H.I.E.L.D. was involved, it was far from sufficient.

For instance, in quantum technology, the world’s top scientists were at Pym Technologies, with Dr. Hank Pym himself among the elite. Yet even Pym Technologies had not developed a true quantum computer.

What kind of lab was this, so high-tech? Could it have government backing?

“I’m very interested in these areas and hope to participate,” Fitz said excitedly.

“I… want to continue research on Azeroth Essence,” Simmons said, looking at Old Wang with longing and some concern.

They had heard that Azeroth Essence was extremely expensive—absurdly so. A tiny amount could cost tens of millions of dollars.

Such a costly material required large quantities for research, and results were not guaranteed. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. might not be able to afford it. Could Mr. Wang?

“Of course, but not right now,” Old Wang smiled, winking. “Trust me, in my lab, the last thing you’ll lack are research projects. The boundless unknown will drive you to pursue knowledge. Isn’t that exactly what you want?”

The two exchanged another look and nodded firmly.

This career move was the right one. No going back!

That afternoon, Robbie drove Fitz and Simmons to the airport.

Two hours later, the plane arrived in San Juan, where Eli personally greeted them.

Thanks to the available funds, Eli had rented an abandoned factory in a sparsely populated suburb, remodeled it briefly, and put it to use—looking quite impressive.

With Fitz’s arrival, the “Dark Grimoire Laboratory” embarked on a new chapter in brain mapping and memory uploading research.

This young scientist parachuted into the position as the head of the project team and quickly impressed everyone with his profound scientific knowledge. Coupled with respect for their boss, Old Wang, no one dared to oppose him.

Simmons did not pursue research on Azeroth Essence, also known as the Essence of the Well of Eternity.

This special liquefied energy substance was difficult to study and produce results for, and Simmons was not yet qualified.

She took on a new project and became the sole member of a new research group. Upon entering the lab, she opened a portable safe.

On the soft purple velvet lay a piece of dragon bone.

It weighed a full 20 kilograms.

One week later.

The corpse of a Handmaster with five fingers was secretly delivered to San Juan, personally escorted by Robbie.

It was handed over to Simmons.