Transformed Marvel Genius

In an unknown research institute in Virginia, the iron gate opened and a container truck entered.

Stopping in front of the warehouse door, a man with a bald head and a white coat came down from the passenger seat.

He said hello to the guards standing on both sides: "Find Dr. Gilbrough."

The guards watch people talking, and frown when they see the bald-headed man wearing a white coat. The research institute is very generous, not like a bald head. Like a researcher, like a butcher poking a knife in a slaughterhouse.

"Sorry, you can't chew gum here!" The guard didn't lift his eyelids.

The bald man stroked his sleeves and stretched out his head as if he was about to fight.

"All right!"

The shutter door opened, and a researcher came out, wearing glasses, wearing a white coat, and a well-dressed kind.

Judging from the expression on the conversation, he should be the bald man's Doctor Gilbrough.

Then the two should have communicated for a while, and for no apparent reason, they broke up.

Dr. Gilbrough insisted on leaving. The bald man grabbed the doctor and pulled out the rebar pliers from the cab of the container truck. The long handle dragged him past the doctor, pushed him aside, and took the rebar pliers to remove the lead seal.

"Sorry, I'm not interested, Ajax, you can find another institute."

Ajax is the name of a bald man. He was anxious, stepped on the container with one foot, and pulled open the door of the container.

Open.

As Gilbrew was about to leave, there was a burst of heat from the container.

The hot air was mixed with a fishy stench, mixed with water vapor, and it was unpleasant to smell.

Gilbrew pinched his nose and fanned.

Boom... There was a noise inside the container.

He was stunned.

There was a monster lying in the container, like a hill, filling the entire 20-foot low container.

The monster's mouth is very sharp, and the snort is inciting, and the whiskers in front of the mouth are shaking, and occasionally the eyelids are propped up, revealing scarlet eyes.

My God, it looks like a mammal, with a head, neck, trunk, and limbs, but no tail, covered with hair, standing upright, looking like steel needles, the kind that can stab people to death.

"It was caught near Bermuda, using a whaling fork, injected with an excessive amount of anesthetic, and it cost $1 million. It's not a loss," Ajax said.

Gilbrew nodded, subconsciously.

He is now thinking about the class of species in the container, not sea lions, walruses, nor cetaceans, sea fishing, or deep seas 800 kilometers away from the coastline.

He had never heard of this species.

It just looks a bit like a mouse.

"No, no, I'll leave."

Gilbrough nodded, then shook his head again: "You tell me the account number, the research laboratory can only transfer money to the public."

…………………………………………

Xavier Castle, Westchester County, New York.

Little Short Legs ran around the room, not knowing that his original super-desperate factor carrier had turned into a super rat.

He was also dragged onto the deck with a harpoon and sent to the research institute.

Valued at $1 million.

talent.

She is worried now.

There was a problem in the No. A townhouse laboratory, and a lot of guinea pigs died.

Now the robot is cleaning up.

There are quite a few places where the guide rails are bent, and the robot is driving on it, screeching.

Covering her nose, Anna watched as the manipulator lifted the rat cage, opened the wire door, and dumped out the dead rat.

One down is a cage, five or six, in the garbage bag.

There are mice in the bag.

Some of them have shriveled torso, most of them are rigid, and occasionally there are two thumps, but they can't be saved.

"How many are there in total?"

"Three layers, three hundred cages, 1500 in total."

AI answers.

These are all money.

$30 for a guinea pig adds up to $45,000, which is equivalent to the average American's annual income.

In the final analysis, it's all the fault of the electromagnetic railgun.

The last time I fired a cannonball, the aftermath was so big that it shattered the house.

The laboratory rails are bent, and the feeding robot is derailed.

Originally, it wasn't a big problem, it just needed to be renovated.

But it was just in time for a joint visit from Columbia University and New York University.

In order to be decent in the laboratory, Little Short Legs temporarily found the old Mr. Mediterranean, and expedited the repairs, so they built the pavement on the outer layer.

Finally, I fooled the two bigwigs in the education industry.

Now, Anna has ruled the production, breeding and sales of cloned mice in New York State.

The robot threw the mouse carcass onto the dump truck.

The last time I didn't fully renovate it left a scourge.

Xavier Castle was an old house, and Anna was busy at the time. After the visit of the two education leaders, Anna forgot about the renovation of the laboratory.

After living in the isolated island for a few days, all the problems were exposed after returning.

"It's better to expose a problem than not to expose it." Anna ran to the main computer room and called up the blueprint: "The underground laboratory is renovated."

Anna attaches great importance to the guinea pig issue, not just money. For Anna, $30 is a bonus.

She cultivated mice with a purpose. As long as she injected the desperate virus, the ultra-low-energy version, she put on the iron buckle, inserted the antenna, and then injected the graphene expression protein mixture.

A proper explosion of rats.

Think about it, Hydra or aliens attacked the castle~www.wuxiaspot.com~ Anna stood on the castle, wearing a cape, the little fat hand pointed forward, and thousands of mice rushed out.

The recovery of physical strength is more agile than that of ordinary mice, and it will explode after being slashed a few times, although the power of the explosion is not large.

The explosive power of the Extremis virus is proportional to the volume of the carrier. The local temperature of the explosion of the mouse is only 1000 degrees Celsius, and the explosion diameter is within one foot. It looks much weaker than a grenade and a bomb.

But there are too many mice.

Without Maya here this time, Anna felt that she could work with great fanfare. First, expand the basement experimental base.

Anna thought she could build one on Hongdao.

It's just that the soil is relatively loose over there, so the foundation needs to be more steadfast.

Then graphene production is still too small.

If compared with other laboratories, the daily output of Anna Graphene is thousands of times theirs.

Looks like a lot.

However, the production of bulletproof cloth requires a large amount of graphene, and the sales volume of 900 million US dollars accounts for almost 95% of Anna's graphene.

There are also electric pulse bombs and electromagnetic bombs sold externally. Anna is planning to upgrade them, discarding the gold wire and using graphene.

Coupled with the graphene expression protein mixture, Little Short Legs can't wait to buy the entire Westchester County.

By the way, the director of Ludan also asked Anna for bulletproof cloth recently. It is estimated that he wants to do a reselling business, wholesale from Anna at a low price, and then sell it at a high price.

With the ruthless heart of the director of Braised Egg, there will be another batch of huge profits at that time.

Get Osborn and tell him the plan.

This is a big business, and it is directly related to him. Osborn made a phone call, and the old man from the Mediterranean rushed back that day, from Beacon Hill in Boston.

p.s. Thanks to 5 fans