Chapter 130

Stark put on his lightweight armor again and stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve; Captain America held his shield and stared at the massive monster before him, swallowing hard: "Don't tell me the one who attacked Stark Tower last time was him..."

Stark stared at the enormous shadow before him and also swallowed hard: "I think... maybe... possibly..."

He stammered for a moment, then shouted: "Connors! Are you Connors?! Can you hear us right now?!"

"Of course, you don't need to yell so loud—I'm not deaf," said the giant lizard-man. "I used cryogenic technology to refine the lizard serum, extracting and modifying the component that causes human transformation, granting me greater size, stronger strength, and most importantly, preserving my sanity."

Stark rubbed his neck, sore from looking up for so long, and said: "Your modifications are remarkably effective!"

Stark was right—Dr. Connors's lizard form now stood over ten meters tall, like a building, its entire body covered in scales, with protruding spikes at the joints and sharp bony spines along its spine; its massive vertical pupils looked cruel and cold-blooded.

"Wait, if you're here now, what about the experiment?" Stark asked.

"I left it to Peter. I trust him," Connors said, then sprinted and leaped onto the highest remaining debris of the collapsed Brooklyn Bridge, whipping his tail hard and sending several bats flying.

Connors had indeed handed all remaining research duties to Peter, but clearly, Peter was in bad shape—he said: "Wait! Doctor! You must wear lab attire to enter the lab... Hey! Don't touch that test tube—you can't just pour directly from it..."

Schiller ignored him entirely, picked up a test tube, and held it up to his eye, shaking it; Peter walked over, gloved hands carefully taking the tube, then said: "Doctor! This violates lab protocol! We need to..."

"If I could follow lab protocol, I wouldn't have waited until after Connors left to come in."

"But..."

"Connors is gone. Forget about that serum. Let's do something more interesting."

As he spoke, Peter saw Schiller pull out a stack of blueprints; Peter took the one Schiller handed him, glanced at it, and said: "What's this? A small-scale cryogenic generator? Isn't this the same cryo-tech from before?"

"Correct. I had someone design a compact cryogenic generator capable of freezing all targets within its range."

"So this is a weapon? What's the point?"

Schiller sat down, tapped the table, and gestured for Peter to sit too. "The biggest problem right now is that ordinary people can't fight these monsters. If everyone had an effective way to neutralize vampires, what do you think would happen?"

"Those vampires would be finished," Peter said without hesitation. "How many people are in Brooklyn? Even excluding the vulnerable, just counting those who work out or know how to fight—that's tens of thousands at least. Those bats? Maybe a few thousand at most..."

Then Peter suddenly realized: "Yeah, that's actually a great idea!"

"Regular bullets won't work—the vampires' regenerative abilities are too strong. Even shooting holes through their wings does nothing. We need a weapon that can instantly halt all their activity, giving ordinary people a chance to fight back," Schiller explained.

Peter continued: "Freezing can do that. If a single shot turns a bat into ice, it can't harm anyone—and since their bodies aren't damaged, no regeneration triggers. They're just immobilized..."

Peter imagined the scene: any healthy person, facing a bat diving toward them, could throw a cryogenic generator—aimed even half-decently—and disable the bat instantly.

Another advantage: vampire bats are enormous, with wingspans of several meters. This normally made them more dangerous—greater size meant greater strength. Regular bullets healed within seconds; even silver rounds only slightly slowed them, and before the shooter could fire again, they'd be tackled.

But with this instant-control freezing device, their size became a weakness: the bigger they were, the easier to hit. Once hit, whether one wing or any other part froze, they'd immediately plummet from the sky, losing all mobility.

Peter said: "The idea's good, but implementing it will be difficult." He looked at the blueprint. "This thing is too expensive to mass-produce."

Schiller spread his hands. "That's your problem. I'm just an ordinary psychiatrist."

Peter rubbed his chin. He could see this gear could drastically shift the tide—but to him, it looked like a rich man's toy. Each unit cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, was single-use, and scaling it up was pure money-burning. Even if one unit froze a few bats, it was still a net loss.

"This isn't something Mr. Stark designed, is it? Of course—he could afford it. But to deploy this widely? Nick Fury would go insane at this price tag."

Peter propped his head on one hand, staring intently at the blueprint, when Venom spoke in his mind: "I have an idea."

Peter frowned. "You can read mechanical blueprints?"

"Of course I can."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Miniaturize it. Individualize it. Normalize it. We can..."

Peter felt Venom's brainwaves and said: "Sure, if we could achieve those three things, it'd be perfect—but small weapons have their own problems..."

Peter continued: "To cut costs, the ammunition must be stored as liquid—that's the optimal storage method for cryo-tech."

"But converting liquid energy into solid projectiles requires launch delay. Those bats are fast—this lag could mean the shooter gets attacked before firing."

"But this weapon can't use solid rounds—the phase conversion is mandatory."

"Have you considered the attack method doesn't have to be firing bullets?" Schiller said. "What about close-range spray?"

Peter paused. "That makes sense. If ranged attacks need prep time, we could add a close-combat mode—spray requires far less preparation than solid rounds and allows sustained output, ideal for melee..."

Then Peter switched personas again, staring intently at the blueprint: "We can design two firing modes: one, delayed projectile launch of ice spikes; two, close-range cryo-spray. That solves the range-transition problem."

Peter stood up with the blueprint in hand. "Both options are viable: one, a dual-mode freezing gun; two, a large-area freezing device usable as a grenade. Regular troops can carry the freezing gun; elite units on the front lines can be equipped with the large-area cryo-generators."

Schiller clapped from his chair. "You're about to become the savior of this war, Peter."

"Alright, I'll start building one now. JARVIS, are you there?"

"Production Unit Two is ready, Mr. Parker."

Peter rubbed his palms, excited. "I've never actually built a weapon before. All the stuff Mr. Stark told me—I barely remembered. But now it's all back in my head, crystal clear."

"That means you're a genius," Schiller said. "By the way, what are you going to name this weapon system?"

"Hmm..." Peter hesitated. "I refined the concept, but I didn't originate it. What do you think we should call it, Doctor?"

slkslk.

"How about 'Blizzard'?"

"Blizzard? That does suit the large-area cryo-generator."

"Then that's the name. Go ahead—I'm waiting for your Blizzard Alpha prototype."

After Peter left, Schiller called Nick. "I'm nearly ready here. How's your side?"

"The moderates keep lobbying the senators—they've even taken it to the Security Council. But Pierce has held firm. I can buy you at most two more days. Move quickly."

After hanging up, Stark stormed into the lab in his armor. He found Schiller scribbling on the lab bench and asked anxiously: "What's going on? Did those senators actually get swayed by the vampires?"

He lifted his helmet. "Director George told me someone contacted him, demanding he stop using mass fire coverage. What the hell? Those bats are insane, and now he wants us to stand down?"

"How's the battlefield?" Schiller asked.

"Not good," Stark said, gulping down a full cup of water and slamming it on the table—clearly in a foul mood. "Dr. Connors helped a lot—he tore apart dozens of bats and absorbed most of the frontline pressure. And Captain America—I have to admit, Steve's got serious fighting skills..."

"We work well together, covering most of the flanks. The other flank's held by S. . . . . . agents—for now. But this isn't sustainable."

"Dawn's coming," Schiller said. "Hold on for one final push. Once the sun rises, their assault will weaken."

"But Blade told me these insane bats, under ritual influence, can even resist weak sunlight."

"That doesn't mean their mobility won't drop. At dawn, most vampires will retreat into hiding."

"Fine. So today, our battle isn't on the field—it's in the media. What the hell is Nick Fury doing? How did the vampires gain the upper hand in public opinion?"

Schiller kept writing, not looking up. "You must understand—they're deeply embedded in human society. Many are scholars, professors, celebrities. Our response was too aggressive. Many of them have banded together to influence our decisions from within."

Stark sighed. "Many cops are injured. More civilians are dead. Thank God our decisive battle's near the bridge, not a residential zone—if it were, I can't imagine the toll. These monsters deserve hell."

"Your battle's over—for now. Another war awaits you."

"What do you mean?"

"This full-scale vampire offensive is messy. Some of them believed that vague prophecy and came to New York to stir chaos."

"We handle this crisis—but what if another prophecy pops up next time? Next time, is it Los Angeles? San Francisco? This time we lost a bridge, hundreds dead. Next time, which bridge? Which building?"

"I know," Stark said, tapping the table with his metal gauntlet. "The Security Council and Congress do nothing. Next disaster, we'll scramble again, watching the death toll rise, powerless. I want this more than anyone."

"So we must solve this at its root."

Stark narrowed his eyes. He saw Schiller sitting there, writing nonstop. "Aren't you a little too calm? Why does this sudden invasion feel... expected?"

"Good question. But it doesn't matter." Schiller gathered his papers, aligned them neatly, and handed them to Stark.

Stark eyed him suspiciously, took the documents awkwardly, and read the top line aloud: "Analysis Report on the Medicinal Value of Vampires... Medicinal value????"