Chapter 135: R: The Batman Event (Twelve)

In the SHIELD office, the room was dimly lit, the same flickering bulb overhead casting alternating light and shadow as Schiller and Nick sat on opposite sides of the table.

"I didn't expect things to move this fast," Nick said with a sigh. He pulled out a blank sheet of paper, tore off a corner, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it to the center of the table. "Due to Stark Corporation's weapons shining brightly in this full-scale invasion war, the Security Council has approved the New York Private Armed Forces Firepower Retention Act..."

Schiller took the paper, tore off a piece, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it to the center. "Three hundred Snowfall units, plus ongoing maintenance costs."

"There are no remaining members in Congress fiercely opposing the production of the Immortality Factor," Nick tossed another paper ball over.

"The diluted version of the Healing Serum can achieve significant tissue repair within a short time, with no obvious side effects—up to fifteen hundred doses available," Schiller tossed a ball over.

"SHIELD is willing to fully support the dismantling of vampire social structures and implement real-time regulation and monitoring," another paper ball landed in the center.

"Not enough," Schiller said. Nick crumpled another ball and tossed it. "SHIELD is willing to relinquish its pursuit of Stark in certain areas."

"Thirty percent of the Immortality Factor's profits."

"That's too low. How much are you taking?"

"Stark and Osborn Pharmaceuticals will pay me my share."

"The minimum SHIELD can accept is forty-five percent."

"You want nearly half? Impossible. Even if I agreed, Pepper wouldn't. And you'd better think clearly—Obadiah is still unconscious, but Connors' brain-activity serum has made tremendous progress. Once Obadiah wakes up, you might not even get thirty percent."

"Forty percent. No lower. You said Obadiah is still unconscious."

"The floor is thirty percent."

"SHIELD will give you two extra points separately."

"Thirty-five percent. Final offer."

"Deal."

Soon, as their conversation continued, paper balls piled up on the table, nearly forming a small mound.

After settling certain profit-allocation issues, Nick sat back, interlaced his fingers under his chin, and said, "I have to admit, your bloodline theory plan is brilliant—but I always feel you're hiding something bigger."

Schiller smiled. "I just want a quiet life, and a little entertainment along the way."

"So if anyone unsettles you, you dig up their entire root system with one shovel?"

"Let's drop this heavy topic. Let's talk about something cheerful."

Schiller placed his hands on the table and clasped them together. "Do you have any ideas about the production method of the Immortality Factor?"

"Isn't that already handed over to the professionals at those two conglomerates?"

"Yes—but are you truly satisfied with thirty-five percent profit?"

Nick narrowed his eye. He knew this tone all too well. "What, do you have another deal to propose?"

"Of course. You don't really plan to let the big profits go entirely to others, do you?"

Nick fixed his single eye on Schiller. Schiller said, "Let me ask you—what's your view on drug safety?"

"No opinion. What are you getting at?" Nick tossed the question back.

"When vampires are used as raw material, how do you guarantee raw material safety? How do you prevent substitution with inferior products? How do you ensure compliance in blood extraction? How do you prevent precious Immortality Factor loss during manufacturing? How do you guarantee the final product's efficacy? What are the monitoring standards?"

"Raw material safety..." Nick paused. He sensed immediately this could be exploited.

"Exactly," Schiller waved his hand over the table. "You don't seriously think you can just catch any bat and turn its blood into an elixir for longevity, do you?"

"According to our research—the bloodline theory—only vampires of purer lineage yield superior blood effects. Common vampires have weak efficacy, let alone humans transformed into vampires. Human-turned bats have zero medicinal value—like comparing truffles to ordinary mushrooms."

"These rare, precious high-tier vampires are notoriously dangerous to capture, making costs extremely high—and profits from counterfeits astronomically higher."

"Of course, unscrupulous merchants will capture ordinary vampires and falsely claim their blood contains this precious factor."

"To ensure our customers receive only the purest Immortality Factor serum, we must establish a monitoring system guaranteeing every single dose is made from the rarest pure-blood bats."

"We must also distinguish between wild and farmed specimens. Out of humanitarian concern, we absolutely oppose farming—caging a high-tier vampire and repeatedly draining its blood is utterly inhumane!"

"Thus, the most valuable raw material is none other than pure-blood bats captured and killed on the battlefield."

"And I'm an extreme animal rights activist—we must end the bats' lives painlessly. After all, bats are animals too..."

"That's where our most advanced cryo-guns come in. At extremely low temperatures, organisms feel no pain. Is there a better form of euthanasia?"

"Therefore, bats not killed by cryo-guns cannot be used to produce the highest-grade Immortality Factor serum."

"Moreover, blood extraction after killing requires extreme precision—only SHIELD's most trained agents may perform the complex procedure, requiring at least three rounds of training..."

"Containers must also be specially designed to preserve the factor to maximum capacity."

"Storage warehouses—yes, this is critical. Preservation technology determines the freshness of most food and medicine. Fortunately, I have a highly refined low-temperature logistics design that meets all transport and storage needs for the Immortality Factor..."

As Schiller spoke, Nick took notes. When Schiller paused, Nick didn't look up. "Keep going. My autumn budget just got secured."

"You haven't grasped the essence," Schiller smiled. Nick put down his pen and looked at him. Schiller took the notebook Nick was writing in and wrote one word on it. Nick took it back and saw the word: "Monopoly."

Schiller's voice followed: "When we alone hold the authority to define industry standards, we achieve true monopoly."

"The irreproducible nature of this mysterious factor ensures only tech giants—Stark and Osborn—hold the final interpretation rights."

"Under these conditions, any company attempting to replicate becomes a counterfeit producer."

"Anti-monopoly laws? Sure, they might matter in traditional industries. But now, if we say a company's product is fake—based on Stark's research—will you still buy it?"

"We have no concrete evidence, yes—it's just words. But if you can buy Stark's product, why risk buying from some small company?"

"Under these conditions, everyone trusts only the companies they believe capable of cracking the factor—and most assume only Stark and Osborn have that ability."

"Even if Stark and Osborn cannot uncover the true secret of the factor, as long as no one else can, they remain permanently ahead."

"That's natural monopoly."

"And the profits from complete industry monopoly—well, I don't need to spell that out, do I?"

Nick pursed his lips. "I can tell you this: I have a larger plan—my personal plan. So bring out whatever you've got. I guarantee you'll get your share later."

"At the very least, I can personally ensure your life remains peaceful."

Schiller smiled. His smile, under the flickering cold light, looked almost manic. He said:

"Then we reach the most important step."

"Our noble customers paid dearly for genuine Immortality Factor serum—surely we can't let them inject it in some shabby place?"

"The administration method, the entire treatment protocol, post-treatment care—all require industry standards."

"Wouldn't they need a psychiatric sanatorium—officially accredited, perfectly executing all these procedures, and offering attentive service?"

In Nick's vision, Schiller bared fangs sharper than any bat's.

————————Extra Notes———————

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