A Deep Blue figure slipped in through the window, attracting the attention of Dr. Contradiction, who was still reading a magazine.
Watching the figure fold its wings into a ceremonial robe, Dr. Contradiction smiled and asked, "Did you get it?"
Ice Phantom reached behind him and pulled out a small USB drive with the Stark Industries logo.
"I didn't fail you?" Ice Phantom's eerie voice came, "Dr., do you have a reading device? I want to see the data inside."
Dr. Contradiction didn't waste words, reaching into his white coat and pulling out a very advanced-looking tablet computer.
Ice Phantom took the tablet, inserted the USB drive, then gently tapped the emblem on his chest.
After switching from Alien Hero to Grey Matter, she lightly jumped onto the table and began to look at the data.
It must be said that in the Marvel and DC Universes, Arc Reactor technology can currently be considered the pinnacle of human technology.
Especially the precise structure of the miniaturized reactor, Gwen was certain that DC couldn't mass-produce it yet.
After all, in terms of raw materials, DC's processing technology wasn't good enough.
One must know that if it weren't for her presence, that side might have only just entered the Nine-Palace Grid era.
But for Grey Matter, these complex technologies posed no difficulty.
He merely quickly browsed the relevant data, and those obscure principles appeared as clear as day.
Dr. Contradiction also stood by, and as a scientist, seeing these materials, he couldn't help but Marvel.
Although this knowledge was somewhat outdated for him, he still found merit in these designs.
Especially that small Arc Reactor, if it could be mass-produced, at least the endurance problem of single-soldier exoskeleton armor could be solved.
Even thinking in terms of civilian use, at least all smart devices wouldn't need charging for a short time.
Finally, Grey Matter closed the last document and let out a long breath.
At this moment, seeing the hard drive size displayed on his tablet, Dr. Contradiction raised an eyebrow, his eyes full of curiosity: "Do these materials require such a large capacity?"
Grey Matter was stunned, his face full of confusion: "What capacity?"
Dr. Contradiction reached out and poked the USB drive icon in the lower right corner of the tablet, reminding him:
"A 16G USB drive, a few documents taking up 80%? This is clearly abnormal. Even if it includes 3D modeling and source code, it shouldn't be so massive... unless..."
"There's something else inside?"
"Clever." Dr. Contradiction's mouth curved into an appreciative smile, and he snapped his fingers. A brand new folder appeared in the USB drive directory.
"Looking at this file structure, it's clearly connected to an external system." Dr. Contradiction smiled, his eyes gleaming with excitement, completely disregarding personal privacy, and directly clicked on the system file.
With some black screens, the original futuristic tablet interface disappeared, replaced by an outdated XP computer interface.
Hmm, even the wallpaper was blue sky, white clouds, and green grass.
Two files sat alone on the desktop: one document named "Transaction Records" and another program named "Chatroom."
Grey Matter vaguely sensed something and directly opened "Transaction Records." A dense table instantly filled the screen.
And all of these tabulated transaction records were from arms sales.
Among them, most of the weapons flowed to the same name—Ten Rings Gang.
The remaining weapons, like a plague, flowed to warlords and Terrorists around the World, with countless innocent lives potentially lost behind each transaction.
Dr. Contradiction looked at the information above, then at the magazine not far away, and sighed sincerely.
"The side maintaining peace buys their weapons, and the side creating slaughter also buys their weapons. This is making money on both ends."
Grey Matter did not respond to Dr. Contradiction's words, remained silent for a moment, then reached out and opened the chatroom.
Anonymous 1: Someone will be coming to your side tomorrow.
Anonymous 2: What do you want me to do?
Anonymous 1: Kill him.
Anonymous 2: What's in it for me?
Anonymous 1: Don't you want Jericho missiles? I'll sell them to you.
Anonymous 2: I want you to provide the finished product for free.
Anonymous 1: Deal... Stark Industries Tower, CEO's office.
Obadiah Stane stood with his back to George Stacy, looking very nervous.
After confirming that the surveillance was problematic, he began to check the items in his cabinets one by one.
He had already checked all the other cabinets, with only one locked cabinet remaining unchecked.
He took a deep breath, his knuckles white as he gripped the handle of the office desk drawer and pulled it open.
To his dismay, the drawer, which should have been locked, slid open without any resistance.
He tremblingly flipped through the neatly arranged documents in the drawer, his fingertips brushing over the empty velvet lining.
The USB drive that should have been there was now missing.
"Mr. Stane?" George keenly noticed the man's suddenly stiff back and took a step forward, "You look unwell, is something..."
"No!" Obadiah suddenly stood up, a somewhat stiff smile on his face, "Just remembered some work trivialities."
George frowned, his gaze sweeping over the open drawer behind the other man: "If it involves lost property, we the police can..."
"Really, no!" Obadiah's voice suddenly rose, and after realizing his gaffe, he immediately put on a fake smile, "Hahaha, I had a document, I thought I put it here, but after thinking about it carefully, I took it home. It really gave me a fright."
George was full of doubts, stroking his chin as he observed Obadiah's unnatural demeanor. But since the person involved denied it, he couldn't press further.
Just then, the elevator doors opened, and Obadiah's assistant, her face pale, rushed into the CEO's office in a panic.
George turned and saw that the young woman's chest was heaving violently, and large beads of sweat were rolling down her cheeks, clearly having run in a great hurry.
Obadiah frowned, his tone filled with displeasure: "What's with all this panic, what happened?"
The assistant swallowed, her voice trembling: "Mr. Tony... Mr. Tony was attacked in Afghanistan, communication is cut off, his life or death is currently unknown!"
As soon as the words fell, the office fell into a dead silence, and Spider-Man, who was eavesdropping outside, also felt this dead silence.
The next second, Obadiah suddenly erupted in rage. He swept the documents and Water cup off the table, and the glass cup shattered on the floor with a piercing sound. "Useless! All useless! Wasn't Tony with the military?!"
He roared, veins bulging on his face, pacing back and forth, his leather shoes slamming heavily on the floor.
George quickly stepped forward, placing a hand on Obadiah's shoulder, trying to calm him: "Mr. Stane, don't get agitated! Mr. Stark might not really be in trouble, maybe he's still alive!"
Obadiah panted heavily, glaring at everything around him, then sighed, sinking to the floor in a sweat, shaking his head.
"Sigh... Tony... I watched him grow up like a son... How... how could this happen!"
But from an angle George couldn't see, his hand, hanging at his side, was tightly clenching the hem of his suit, and the corner of his mouth, hidden in the Shadow, uncontrollably turned up slightly, a complex expression of both shock and joy flashing in his eyes.
Next, as long as he could find that USB drive, Stark Industries would be his!
But the premise was to find that damn USB drive.