Chapter 92: Peter Weyland's Ambition

The pure white, egg-shaped chamber was the Fully Automatic Medical Chamber developed by Weyland Corporation.

Its value was extraordinarily precious, as the equipment inside could essentially cure most known human diseases.

Even external injuries could be precisely sutured—it was nothing short of a perfect medical chamber!

As Alvin touched the pure white, egg-shaped chamber, he made his decision.

Before leaving, he absolutely had to take this thing—with it, he could hand it to Norman Osborn and mass-produce it in minutes.

“Sir, this is the Fully Automatic Medical Chamber.”

After explaining the basic operating procedures, David respectfully stepped back half a pace.

“Stand by.”

Alvin removed his armor and ordered the Mark V: “If anyone attempts to threaten me, eliminate them immediately.”

Then the armor sealed shut, raised its palm-mounted arc pulse cannon, and aimed at David beside it.

Watching Alvin enter the medical chamber, David harbored a cautious thought and cautiously took half a step forward.

BOOM!

A beam of arc pulse seared past David’s cheek.

The vase on the display stand was reduced to powder by the arc pulse.

Clearly, the armor was issuing a warning.

No unusual behavior—otherwise, it would blow his head apart, just like that vase!

David swiftly extinguished the faint thought in his mind, standing motionless as a petrified statue, waiting for the treatment to end.

About half an hour later.

The Fully Automatic Medical Chamber completed its treatment, suturing Alvin’s wounds and realigning his fractured ribs from the battle.

What a wonderful device…

Though Imperial Biotech was powerful, Alvin, as a scavenger from the Lower Nest, had no chance of accessing it anytime soon—and the value and technological sophistication of the Fully Automatic Medical Chamber perfectly matched humanity’s needs in the Marvel Universe.

No rush.

This device plays a major role in the plot.

After wiping away residual blood from the chamber, deleting the treatment records, and confirming no information would leak, Alvin turned to David, who waited nearby.

“Sir, I mean no harm.”

David seemed to anticipate what Alvin would say and preemptively explained his earlier action: “I merely wished to verify the treatment protocol of the Fully Automatic Medical Chamber.”

Such a clumsy lie could not deceive Alvin.

But he was too lazy to expose it; after all, David still had great value. He brushed it off casually: “I… don’t care.”

The greatest contempt is not mockery—it is utter indifference.

Just as humble insects are never noticed by humans, David’s unauthorized actions—even if they carried threat potential—meant nothing to a superior alien lifeform.

David’s face appeared expressionless, yet an indescribable emotion surged within him—anger, perhaps.

But he concealed it well, asking in as calm a tone as possible: “Sir, might I request… that you accompany me to meet someone?”

As the prototype android, David remained loyal to his creator—though not to humans, but to Peter Weyland—and all his subsequent actions stemmed from this logic.

After so much setup, the main figure was finally here!

Alvin’s primary goal on this mission was Peter Weyland; the Creator, Black Water, and others came second.

Yet he could not appear too eager, or David would grow suspicious. He replied coldly: “Judging from that woman’s behavior just now, I don’t consider contact with humans a wise choice.”

“I apologize for Miss Vickers’ foolish actions, sir,” David said slowly. “But please believe me—not everyone is as foolish as she is. For instance… my master, Peter Weyland, the true controller of this vessel, the great human who created the androids like the Creator.”

“Oh?”

Alvin feigned interest: “You mean the one who created the androids—your Creator?”

“Yes.”

David nodded, affirming the description.

“Then…” Alvin stepped forward, standing directly before David, their faces nearly touching, locking eyes with a mocking tone: “How do you view your own Creator, David?”

“I’m sorry, I cannot answer that question.”

For the first time in his existence, David felt panic.

It was as if his inner thoughts had been fully exposed, laid bare before the other’s gaze.

“Don’t be so tense, David.”

Alvin, as if satisfied, stepped back half a pace and said coolly: “I accept your request. I’m curious too… about this android’s ‘Creator.’”

David exhaled in relief and immediately turned to lead the way.

…

David awakened the sleeping Peter Weyland.

Then, respectfully supporting the centenarian who had founded Weyland Corporation, invested trillions, and come solely in search of the Creator, he helped him sit in a chair.

Weyland was very old; awakened from stasis, he breathed heavily, his face wrinkled, hair entirely white, yet his eyes remained sharp and full of wisdom.

“Hello, I… am Peter Weyland.”

Weyland needed a respirator to complete even a single sentence. He had already learned the full account from David’s report, including the existence of another alien lifeform, created by the Creator and far surpassing humanity.

Of course, David had withheld part of the truth.

Namely, the conversation he had with the other about how created beings should view their Creator.

“You… are truly another type of life created by the Creator?” Despite knowing, Weyland still found it hard to believe—this boy looked far too human!

“Not entirely.”

Alvin said coolly: “From the origin, we were indeed created by the Creator—but now… we have surpassed them.”

“Cough… cough… cough…”

Weyland became agitated, coughing several times, his eyes filled with longing, yet still wary: “If you’ve surpassed the Creator, why are you here on this planet? Are you after the Creator’s relics?”

“To erase all traces of the Creator’s existence.”

Alvin glanced at David—this fellow had clearly withheld the full truth from Weyland. But that was fine; it saved him future trouble.

“Why?”

Weyland asked, stunned: “Why destroy the traces of the Creator’s existence?”

“What do you think the Creator would think of beings like us, created by them?” Alvin countered.

Weyland frowned. With his intellect, he quickly grasped the implication, cast a meaningful glance at David, then said: “I suspect… pride.”

“Hahahaha…”

Alvin’s laughter dripped with mockery. He looked at Weyland’s confused face with a half-smile, as if viewing a fool: “I’m now eager to see the moment you meet the Creator and discover the truth.”

Weyland seemed unwilling to dwell on this issue. He shifted the topic, his eyes bright with anticipation: “I want to know—if you’ve surpassed the Creator, then do you…?”

His sentence was cut short by another coughing fit.

But Alvin seemed to guess the question he wanted to ask. He studied Weyland with interest: “You’re asking whether you’ve broken the genetic lifespan limit, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes!”

Weyland gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, veins bulging on his flushed face, his excitement making his speech slurred: “Do you… have it?”

In truth, Weyland’s wish was simple.

First: to find the Creator, seek the ultimate answer to life, explore the origin of humanity.

Second: to prove to the Creator that he had created the androids—such a monumental achievement—could he be granted the key to breaking humanity’s genetic lifespan limit and achieve immortality?

The two goals were not conflicting; they could even be merged as one.

Weyland wanted to transcend humanity, to become a true ‘Creator’—not remain trapped in this burdensome, mortal shell.

Once this was understood,

even the cleverest fox could be manipulated at will.

By the way—this book’s title is changing. Many don’t know what “Merchant Wanderer” means; it doesn’t attract enough attention. After consulting the editor, we’ve decided to rename it “Raiding the Multiverse from Warhammer.” I’ll get a new cover made in the next couple days—please don’t get the wrong book, or I’ll cry.