I Think That's Pretty Scientific

Chapter 32: 031: Angela

Dream Toys and Kraft Lee were all the rage once again. The new product they unveiled at the expo had boys all over New York, across the United States, and even around the world going wild. In reality, it was a series of mechanical battle pets derived from mechanical baby dragons—a concept rooted in engineering. As for what “Fat Liao” called “helping out,” it basically just meant being dragged onto the stage to activate the mechanical battle pets alongside Kraft and watch the two battle pets fight it out on stage. Even so, he still made a huge splash, because the scene was broadcast live on major news programs. With major TV networks broadcasting the event voluntarily, it was only natural that the mechanical battle pets would instantly become a massive sensation. Mechanics and combat—these two elements hold just as much appeal for boys as pretty dresses and cosmetics do for girls. The mass-produced versions of the mechanical battle pets still suffered from the same shortcomings as the original—limited battery life and lower intelligence—and their combat power wasn’t nearly as impressive as the original’s; at best, they were on par with a kitten or a puppy. However, this was in comparison to engineering marvels enhanced by supernatural powers; if they were released onto Earth’s toy market, it would be nothing short of a “dimension-lowering strike.” For two full weeks—at least within New York City—conversations among most boys revolved around a single topic: Mech Pets. This even led to the emergence of various Battle Pet clubs, which spontaneously organized all kinds of Battle Pet competitions. The scale was so massive that television stations came to purchase broadcast rights, and Kraft took the opportunity to rake in a hefty licensing fee. He even suggested naming the competition the “Pokémon Championship,” because the current development was so strikingly similar to a world filled with Pokémon from his dreams—except that in his dream, he couldn’t obtain the materials to make those Poké Balls,and there were no such magical creatures called Pokémon here either. Unfortunately, this name—whose meaning was unclear—was rejected by the TV station and the organizers. Inside Tony Stark’s private mansion, a mechanical baby dragon sold by Dream Toys had been dismantled into a pile of parts, neatly arranged on the workbench in front of Stark. “It doesn’t even have a built-in microchip—it relies solely on these intricate mechanisms working in tandem to make this little guy perform such complex movements… No wonder it’s so cheap; I’d guess the cost of this thing is less than that of a Golden Snatcher.” Stark stroked the mustache on his chin and muttered to himself. Judging by how familiar he was with Dream Toys’ products, he was clearly a loyal customer. “Is that Mo School mechanical art really that impressive?” Clearly, he, too, had been misled by Dream Toys’ marketing hype, mistaking this engineering marvel for a product of mechanical artistry. “According to records, over two thousand years ago, a carpenter named Gongshu Ban once crafted a mechanical bird out of wood that flew continuously in the sky for three days. However, there’s no concrete evidence of this, so aside from China, not many people believe it.” Jarvis pulled up all the information related to Lu Ban and displayed it for Tony Stark to see. “Even so, this man named Gongshu Ban created many devices that were far ahead of their time.” “That’s truly remarkable…” Stark offered a sincere exclamation of admiration, then instructed JARVIS: “JARVIS, remember to remind me to send an invitation to that young man when I host the cocktail party next week.” “I must remind you, Mr. Stark, that Kraft Lee is not yet of legal age.” “Oh, really?” Tony Stark shrugged, saying regretfully, “Never mind, then. He’s really unlucky to miss out on a chance to experience the joys of manhood.” There was no way Tony Stark was going to go out of his way to change the party arrangements just for Kraft. After all, no matter how ingenious his inventions were, they were nothing more than toys meant to liven things up. So once Stark had taken the mechanical baby dragon apart and figured out how it worked, he didn’t give it much thought. Aside from Tony Stark, S. H. I. E. L. D. —now officially known as the Strategic Homeland Defense, Attack, and Logistics Agency—Hydra, and various other researchers and factions had all taken a greater or lesser interest in the mechanical battle pets recently released by Dream Toys. However, without the enhancement of the Dream Force, the mechanical battle pets’ technical sophistication and practicality were actually quite limited. Short battery life, an inability to accurately track targets, and stiff, unnatural movements made it a pipe dream for them to serve as weapons. Although these shortcomings could be addressed with other technologies, doing so would be no different from building an entirely new machine from scratch—and the cost would rise accordingly. The main reason Kraft’s mechanical battle pets caught the attention of those factions was their low price. Kraft had no idea he’d just missed out on a chance to meet a whole host of mysterious factions, nor did he realize he’d turned down an invitation from Tony Stark. But given his personality, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to attend anyway—especially not when he’d just had another dream about a new technology. “Those guys again.” Upon seeing the familiar red-and-white umbrella-shaped logo on the wall, a look of disgust crossed Kraft’s face. He had dreamed about this company, called Umbrella, several times before—always conducting inhumane experiments that created hordes of monsters and zombie viruses. In his memories, their researchers always ended up dying at the hands of the very monsters they had created. Unfortunately, Kraft couldn’t voluntarily exit or skip the dream. Plus, he’d recently been making a conscious effort to learn about biotechnology, so after shooting a disgruntled glare at the man in the white lab coat in front of him, he obediently stayed by his side, intending to see what kind of shenanigans this company was up to this time. This time, however, Umbrella’s researchers weren’t conducting human experiments like they had before; instead, they were directing laborers to assemble some kind of machine. “If you’re working on machinery, that really gets me going!” Although Kraft had been mentally preparing himself ever since he saw the Umbrella logo, it was naturally best to avoid having to witness those disgusting scenes. After letting out a sigh of relief, Kraft walked over to the man in the white lab coat and took a closer look. What Umbrella was assembling was a supercomputer, and even after they finished assembling it, the dream didn’t end—instead, the dream’s protagonist—that middle-aged man—continued typing code into the computer. I don’t get it…… Kraft was a bit taken aback. He was already quite skilled at programming, especially after creating Alice and Harlow; he felt that while his computer skills might not be the absolute best, they certainly weren’t much worse than those of the hackers in *Tide*. Yet he couldn’t make sense of more than half of the code written by this slightly balding middle-aged man standing before him. Still, based on the overall structure, Kraft could make out what he was writing. Artificial intelligence. An AI far more complex than Harlow. As for Alice… That girl is endowed with supernatural powers, so she doesn’t count. Given the complexity of this AI, its capabilities would likely far exceed Harlow’s—which made Kraft instantly forget his disappointment as he stared intently at the computer screen, hoping for the success of the man in the white lab coat. If he really succeeded, then Kraft would be able to try accessing the databases of those mysterious organizations he hadn’t been able to penetrate before, as well as go head-to-head with the Stark family’s AI. The man in the white lab coat’s fingers danced rapidly across the keyboard, and strings of characters appeared on the computer screen. Under Kraft’s expectant gaze, they eventually coalesced into a virtual image of a little girl. “Angela…” As the little girl’s figure appeared on the computer screen, tears welled up in the man in the white coat’s eyes. He tremblingly reached out and gently stroked her cheek through the screen. But the little girl on the screen coldly and ruthlessly cut short Dr. Charles’s emotional outpouring. “I’m sorry, Dr. Charles Ashford. If my core program is functioning correctly, my name should be…” “Red Queen.”