Chapter 241: Laboratory

When Henry regained consciousness, the crescent moon hung high in the sky—clearly, it was the deep night.

The California desert in autumn still carried a chill. Katie, this well-fed little tiger, curled up in Henry's arms—whether she sought warmth or wished to keep her master warm, he couldn't tell.

The surroundings were utterly quiet; the usual desert snakes and scorpions refused to approach Henry's direction. Even if they tried to coil around him, they couldn't pierce Kryptonian skin.

Remembering he'd missed dinner, Henry, unable to bear the hunger, picked up Katie and headed toward his shipping container lab, treating his earlier nap as mere drowsiness, not giving it another thought.

The lock on the door was just a cheap purchase from a hardware store.

If someone actually spotted this shipping container out here, using a high-end lock would be like hanging a sign that read "There's something hidden here," clearly signaling trouble that needed heavy protection.

A ordinary lock served only to deter gentlemen, not thieves—it told anyone who saw it that this wasn't a shelter, and trespassers weren't welcome.

Because typical wilderness shelters don't use locks—personalized tools—to restrict strangers' entry or exit.

Opening the door revealed total darkness inside the container, but that didn't hinder the Kryptonian's super vision. Henry walked to the very back and flipped the circuit breaker.

The lights of civilization instantly illuminated the container's interior, revealing everything.

The container had no partitions—it was simply a 40-foot empty shipping container, and Henry used it as a home by placing some items inside.

The ventilation ducts for the wind power generator were in good condition, maintaining airflow inside the container without leaving any strange odors.

Henry's wind power generator wasn't a glaring, obvious artificial structure like a windmill standing in the desert—anyone who saw it would know something was wrong.

Henry designed a wind tunnel that gathered wind from all four directions, disguised as a natural feature; only at the tunnel's convergence point did he install the turbine for electricity generation.

The solar panels had undergone similar camouflage. As long as one didn't observe up close, from a distance or via satellite imagery, no trace of human-made objects could be detected.

Considering freshness, only emergency rations were stored here. Fortunately, there was a single-burner stove, so preparing hot food wasn't troublesome.

The circuit breaker he'd just flipped was hidden among a stack of shelves; besides emergency food, everything else on the shelves were raw materials for synthesizing drugs.

In the corner stood a sofa bed that could be sat on or lain upon; the rest of the space was dominated by a long table covered in various glassware—beakers, Erlenmeyer flasks, funnels—all the tools Henry used to synthesize drugs.

But now all the glass bottles were clean, emitting no strange odors. Still, due to the container's ventilation, dust accumulated easily—even with mesh filters on the vents, fine sand still infiltrated.

Henry had considered installing a BB-series core robot here to handle daily cleaning, but the core robot relied on a server for computation—obviously consuming massive amounts of electricity.

Although the lab had wind and solar power systems, plus a diesel generator as backup, electricity couldn't be used freely.

So this place was primarily for chemical synthesis; other high-power tasks were still conducted at his rented apartment.

Curious as ever in a new place, Katie still looked around everywhere. She even used her front paws to climb onto the table, trying, as she did at home, to leap up and inspect.

Henry had no intention of indulging this little tiger—mainly because the glassware on the table could easily break; secondly, he couldn't let her develop a habit of demanding everything.

Family hierarchy was quietly established through this back-and-forth struggle. Words of authority meant nothing to a tiger; he had to show her through action.

So when he saw Katie rise, preparing to jump onto the table, Henry didn't hesitate—he hooked her leg with his foot, sending her tumbling over.

Then she tried again. He hooked her again. She tried again—he hooked her again. Three times…

Ah, now she was playing!

Henry finally flipped Katie onto her back, stepped on her belly, and pinned her down. Only then could he calmly eat the freshly warmed can of dog food…

It was the middle of the night, deep in the wilderness. Though he could move at super speed and fly, reaching a 24-hour fresh supermarket would require flying a considerable distance. Lazy as ever, Henry had to make do with the lab's supplies.

As for the tiger wriggling beneath his foot, clawing at him—she couldn't harm a Kryptonian in the slightest, nor escape that strange foot. At most, she scratched through his pant leg, a token gesture.

In a few bites, he finished the canned food. Only then did Henry release Katie, washed the dish, and inventoried the remaining raw materials on the shelves, calculating what he needed to replenish for his next drug synthesis.

Some materials could be obtained through legal channels, but controlled substances required more trouble—finding connections, spending extra money.

Though in essence, buying these materials was no different from buying ready-made drugs—some easy to get, some hard, requiring the black market—the price difference was astronomical. The saying that one can buy a ton of raw materials for the price of one jar of medicine wasn't an exaggeration.

Freed now, Katie lost her urge to jump onto the table and instead followed Henry's heels, biting and scratching his pant legs as if seeking revenge.

Even when gently kicked away, Katie charged forward again, relentless in pursuing her unfinished mission.

Fine. Playing with a tiger—Kryptonian physiology utterly dominated, so he wasn't afraid. But his pants were clearly going to suffer.

In just this short while, though his pants weren't torn into strips, the legs were already shredded.

But Henry had finished inventorying the materials and drafted his procurement plan. Most of the cost could be covered by the over sixty thousand dollars in untraceable black money—no need to touch his bank account.

Even the unregulated materials could be sourced through underground suppliers. Though prices were higher, they could be paid with black money. Compared to the high losses from money laundering, this price difference was acceptable.

Moreover, purchasing through public channels left purchase records. If CIA analysts ever investigated, they might deduce his activities from those records.

This black money was also why Henry wanted to stockpile drugs. Previously, he'd only synthesized them when needed—he had no habit of keeping reserves.

One reason was insufficient funds; another was that initially, he couldn't estimate drug usage at all. Making drugs he wouldn't use was pure waste of money and time. This estimated quantity was only possible after half a year of operational experience.

As for the remaining money, Henry opened a hidden door in the container and placed it inside a safe hidden in the cave.

This money was too risky to store at the black clinic or his rented apartment—it was better kept in this remote, uninhabited lab.

(End of Chapter)