Shrink suit: success.
Shrinking objects: success.
Shrinking living beings: failure.
Darren failed yet again.
But he was not discouraged in the slightest.
Failure was acceptable. What he had was time—an abundance of it inside the virtual world.
As the old man's apprentice, how could he possibly lose? Whatever Hank Pym could create, he could create as well.
They were both human.
Why should there be a gap?
And that old man belonged to a past era—outdated.
If it didn't work once, tweak the parameters and try again.
If it didn't work ten times, run a hundred trials.
Success could be built through sheer quantity.
—
Three months later in the real world, Darren Cross had already translated the data he perfected in the virtual space into reality.
For the first time, he put on the Wasp suit and conducted a live test.
The first test: success.
The second test: a minor glitch—but still workable.
The third test: success.
"Excellent… I finally did it!"
He was ecstatic.
There was nothing more intoxicating than turning a dream into reality.
He was proud—fiercely proud.
Though he now stood alone in this secret lab.
Though within the company he had been sidelined.
Though his life felt as lonely as a stray dog.
None of that mattered.
Only the achievement mattered.
In an ordinary business world, a man like Darren would undoubtedly carve out something extraordinary.
Unfortunately, this was the Marvel world—where monsters walked openly, and those without "cheats" were destined to become scenery.
Or cannon fodder.
Darren did not aspire to dominate the world.
He only wanted to fulfill his ambition.
—
"What should I do with the Wasp suit next?"
His first instinct was simple: approach the military. Demonstrate its power. Sell it at a premium.
But there was a problem.
If you approached the military, you had to be prepared for mass production. They would never purchase a single unit.
And mass production was precisely what he could not do.
He had mastered the technology—but in his private workshop, large-scale manufacturing was impossible.
Selling the raw technology outright?
Even worse.
He wanted to live off this invention. If he sold the blueprints, he would have nothing left.
"Should I return to the company and rebuild my position? No… the teacher no longer trusts me."
His thinking stalled.
The original plan had been simple:
Secretly develop the Wasp suit.
Then leverage Pym Technologies' manufacturing capacity to produce it in large quantities and sell to national forces.
He intended to follow the Stark family's old model.
Only a Wasp Warrior could counter another Wasp Warrior.
If every nation required them, they would all buy from him.
He would become the most successful man in the world.
Pym Technologies?
It should have been renamed Cross Technologies long ago.
But plans never survived reality.
He had the suit.
Yet inside the company, he had been demoted.
No longer the decision-maker.
Just an employee.
Ability meant nothing against corporate structure.
No matter how capable you were, no matter how strong your connections, your position was defined by authority.
Especially when your superior already distrusted you.
—
"The teacher is hopeless. I'll go to Antarctica."
His eyes locked onto the virtual helmet resting nearby.
If there was one enterprise that stood above all others, it was Antarctic Enterprises.
Its rise from a small game startup to a global empire was practically a miracle.
And now Darren wanted to sell a new type of weapon—more advanced than conventional arms.
Would the military buy it?
Yes.
But not in the quantities he fantasized.
Modern warfare did not require entire armies of shrinking soldiers.
A specialized strike team would suffice.
In fleet combat, one Wasp operative infiltrating the enemy's flagship and sabotaging its defense systems would be more than enough.
But Darren did not see it that way.
His imagination envisioned Wasp Warriors clashing on battlefields.
That vision was unrealistic.
And no one could persuade him otherwise.
He was stubborn.
—
If he wanted cooperation with Antarctic Enterprises, he had to accept one fact:
Antarctic Military Industries was already the undisputed leader of the global arms sector.
Some small nations' total strength did not even match that division alone.
Any negotiation would come with strict terms.
Unequal agreements.
Harsh conditions.
Yet what alternative did he have?
Pym Technologies was closed to him.
Other companies lacked the capability.
Even if someone could handle it, Darren would not recognize them.
—
At dawn, he made his decision.
He gathered his technical documents and drove toward the Antarctic Building.
Darren Cross was intelligent—despite his baldness being the only visible sign.
He did not go directly to Antarctic Military Industries.
Instead, he headed for the Antarctic Game Building.
Because he knew the head of Antarctic Enterprises—Xu Dan—often stayed there.
Unfortunately for him, Xu Dan was not present that day.
After being politely turned away, Darren forced a stiff smile at the security captain.
Facing that cold, unreadable expression, he felt an unexpected chill.
Of course, someone of Xu Dan's status required appointments.
Pym Technologies was a mid-sized company at best.
Antarctic Enterprises was a global empire.
In his haste, Darren had underestimated the difference.
Back in his car, he started the engine again.
This time, his confidence wavered.
He was no longer certain.
And he was afraid of being rejected once more.
-----------------------
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