Chapter 211 - 193: Remodeling the Dream

"The neural interface technology has been completely retrieved—the Rhino Armor is about to be assembled, thanks to the energy you provided."

"Right, let me show you the coordination between ground and aerial weapons, an original creation of the Osborne Group."

Norman hung up the phone—

The process of reclaiming Dr. Otto’s research had been a long one; under normal circumstances, it would have taken at least half a year to complete.

But with the help of club members, Norman managed to complete the entire process in less than two days.

Now, he was targeting another scientist: Adrian Tums.

A true master in the field of electronics engineering and advanced in years—

He, holding numerous patents and inventions, should have been a millionaire, at the very least not strapped for cash.

But the doctor had an idiosyncrasy: since childhood, he dreamed of flying in the skies like a bird—not by plane, but by attaching wings to his body and taking flight.

This was his secret, yet due to a lack of funds, he took on many jobs, one of which was a municipal electric grid project for the Osborne Group.

After multiple collaborations, he showed Norman this machine:

A type of single-person armor that enabled one to move freely in flight.

Norman fell in love with this equipment at first sight; it was naturally a piece of individual combat gear.

Tums looked at the American soldiers and agents on his doorstep and at Norman, who was leading the pack, and was stunned.

"Norman? What is this about?"

"Dr. Tums... I’m sorry, may we talk inside?"

Adrian felt uneasy, but he was even less willing to confront the group of opaque and menacing figures outside.

So the two entered the house, and Norman sighed first, as if brewing his emotions and phrasing.

"...Dr. Tums, you know that our country is at war right now, don’t you?"

"So what?" Tums had barely finished when his expression changed, as if realizing something, "My invention is not a military weapon, what are you trying to do?"

"But it has the potential to become a military weapon, and I am sorry, old friend, duty calls.

It’s not a bad thing, aren’t you lacking funds? The military will fully sponsor your research, and we have new technologies that can help you resolve the last issues with the machine.

And it has been tested! It’s feasible!"

"No, no, no—Norman, I shared this secret with you because I thought you were a friend, but you’re selling me out?!"

The man over sixty questioned furiously, his wrinkled brows almost merging into one in his anger.

He was a talented scientist, a dream chaser, and he knew the potential of his invention.

But he just wanted to fly freely in that machine, not to use it for war.

Norman was a charismatic entrepreneur with the ability to see into people’s hearts and gain their trust—

Trusting a demon comes at a cost, and now it was Tums’s turn to pay that price.

"This isn’t selling! Look outside, our country is at war! Our young men are dying on the battlefield, the economy is in recession, terrorism is rampant around the world..."

"Enough! I am not a child!" Tums, bristling with anger, pointed at Norman and cursed vehemently, "You son of a bitch, I thought you were an inventor like me? And now you want to steal my invention for war?!"

Norman’s expression turned icy: "Regardless, the nation has made its decision, either hand it over and contribute to the war effort by joining the project team.

Or, the soldiers outside will arrest you right now—for the crime of secretly developing weapons of war, a charge you cannot afford!"

Unlike the Lizard Potion, Tums’s research was strictly underground, without even the pretense of being registered—a mere interest. But in Norman’s hands, that would no longer be an innocuous interest; it would become a dangerous experiment.

Feeling powerful was just right—Norman thought, all he needed was to signal the club, and he could get whatever he wanted.

After speaking, he said into the intercom: "Begin the search..."

Bang!

The door was violently breached, and there was Nick Fury, leading a group of agents to take control of the scene.

Tums’s face turned red with rage—he wanted to say something but saw an agent already raising a gun.

"So you choose to take a nap and then find yourself in prison—Dr. Tums, I’m truly sorry, but it looks like you’ll never fly in the sky again..."

"Enough!"

Tums yelled out, standing stock still as Norman gestured to stop the agent from shooting.

"...But I can’t solve the final problem with the machine."

"Don’t worry, I can solve it." Norman was overjoyed, signaling for the soldiers to bring in the equipment.

With the data obtained from Scorpion, Norman felt he could better adjust the balance between the active biological monitoring device and the human body.

The goods were all in the basement, and Norman expertly approached the password-protected door, then connected some kind of decryption device.

The device instantaneously broke through Adrian’s security locks, and Norman exclaimed admiringly—the higher-ups sure had power.

Meanwhile, Adrian only felt humiliated.

Norman, carrying the goods, went down to the basement and saw the device.

Just like Adrian said, it was a lightweight device designed to allow one to fly through the skies like a bird, rather than operate within a cockpit.

Then of course—the question arose: humans don’t have wings, so how could they control them?

The stage for technological integration had arrived.

Norman connected his own equipment to Adrian’s.

"Dr. Tums, you will certainly rejoice in this choice—we really do have the technology to let you sense the wings."

"A brain-machine interface?" Dr. Tums recognized the component Norman had added to the armor immediately.

"Yes, a brain-machine interface, directly linked to the nerves, allowing you to feel your own wings. Just imagine, the strong wind hitting your wings, lifting you into the clouds...

Only the Osborne Group has this technology! And now you are enjoying it."

"But... humans don’t inherently have wings. Even if wings were integrated into the nervous system, how would one learn to control them?"

"Well, a brave experimental subject has provided us with perfect data for that."

Dr. Otto believed AI should be used as a medium to control the War Armor, so the Scorpion Battle Suit also adopted this design.

The unlucky sod trapped inside was almost forced by the AI to operate, his thoughts wrestling with the AI for control of the body.

His senses were all distorted under the control of biological monitoring, manipulated to perform certain actions.

Of course, this system wasn’t good enough—intense external shocks could still make him lose his primary target.

Norman began to modify the design—now it could increase a person’s autonomy in operating the War Armor, and at the same time, it reduced the injections of the transgenic pharmaceuticals, adjusting the range of hormone control.

Additionally, he increased the weapon systems, and not just that, to accommodate more weaponry, he also added his own designed turbine power units—

"This is an exclusive invention of the Osborne Group, designed by myself, in combination with the biomechanical wings, faster, stronger...

I had originally planned to install it in another piece of equipment, but you ended up using it first. Don’t mention it, doctor."

Throughout the whole process, Adrian could understand the general idea and even assisted Norman in modifying the wings.

The more he watched, the more panicked he became—

because such integration into the body... was too dangerous.

"...How do you know this will work?"

"Of course, we’ve tested it."

The mechanical wings were put into the device that Norman brought, and soon, Adrian’s once light and gentle biomechanical wings were turned into flashing steel cold blades.

Turbine units were added to both sides of the wings, and the light War Armor was expanded to cover the full body, mounted with Micro Missiles and grenade launchers...

The dream machine meant to fly in the skies gradually became a merciless and cruel machine in Adrian’s eyes—

Whether machines meant for flying in the skies or traversing the seas, once they were fitted with the cold steel structures Norman had brought, they all turned into something else:

Killing machines.

"Ugh!! Ugh—-!"

A young man was pushed into the basement, frantically scanning everything in the room. Adrian immediately understood what Norman meant by "we’ve tested it."

"Our brave and fearless volunteer, a refugee from that poor place in Latovia, participating in the experiment for a chance at a United States green card.

Come, take a picture—"

"...What happened to the previous subject?"

"Oh, there was a slight accident with the experiment, but the state will arrange a grand funeral for him, praising his contribution to America. I hear there’s a medal involved."

The soldiers took out their cameras, but the person tied to the bed was beyond angry—it seemed what Norman was saying wasn’t the whole truth.

The young man was slowly placed onto the Transformation Chamber, his anger controlled by the icy mechanics, showing how insignificant man was in front of machinery.

Adrian stared blankly at his little underground workshop, where he once toiled day and night.

He had dreamed countless times of the successful development of the device: In that scene, he would excitedly wear the War Armor, waving his wings and soaring through the sky.

People would envy him, then join him, to revel in the shock and...

The beautiful scenery from miles up in the sky.

But now, this device was about to kill a living young man, a man the same age as Adrian when he first started working, full of vigor.

This young man would be trapped by the machine, the sharp wings cutting open the victim’s throat, with missiles and bullets raining down on the panic-stricken people, the blue sky dyed red with blood...

This was his invention, as well as his sin.

The over-sixty-year-old Adrian suddenly pushed the agents aside, squeezed onto the operating table and yelled as if he had lost his mind:

"This is my invention!"

"Mount it on me!"

Pfft!

The scalpel cut open his flesh.

Everyone around was stunned, Norman as well, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Anyway, as long as the thing is in hand, let him try if he wants to."