I Think That's Pretty Scientific

Chapter 50: 049: Lie to You

After pulling Uncle Ben back from the brink of death with the Goblin Pacemaker XL, Kraft pulled a syringe gun from his bag, pressed it against Uncle Ben’s neck, and injected him with adrenaline. Uncle Ben, whose breathing had been faint just moments before, perked up instantly. “Kraft?” Feeling the surge of strength within him, Uncle Ben sat up slightly. “Did you save me?” “Don’t move around! You’re still injured!” Kraft pressed Uncle Ben down, forcing him to stay lying down. “The ambulance will be here any minute. Let me know right away if you feel any discomfort!” “Don’t worry, I feel pretty good right now.” Uncle Ben smiled and obediently lay back down. “That’s because I gave you an adrenaline shot to numb the pain, but your condition hasn’t actually improved.” Of course, Kraft was making that up. The original version of that adrenaline shot also came from Swan’s world; its intended effect was indeed to trade physical well-being for combat effectiveness. However, Kraft had long since used technology from other worlds to minimize its side effects and had even added a trace amount of a tissue-repairing agent. It wasn’t that he couldn’t add more—it was just that, in many cases, sources of injury like bullets or shrapnel were still lodged inside the body, so adding too much restorative serum wouldn’t actually be a good idea. “That’s great, Kraft. Thank goodness you’re here…” Peter Parker, tears and snot streaming down his face, walked over and thanked Kraft repeatedly, still visibly shaken. “Hmph!” Kraft glared at him fiercely, then turned his head away, refusing to acknowledge him. “Um…” Peter had been about to ask Kraft how he’d ended up here, but he hesitated and held his tongue. Knowing he was in the wrong—and having just received a huge favor from Kraft—Peter Parker didn’t dare provoke Kraft, who was clearly in a bad mood, at that moment. Soon, the ambulance arrived. Kraft and Peter got in together and took Uncle Ben to the hospital. After waiting anxiously outside the operating room for a while, they and Aunt May, who had arrived shortly afterward, were finally informed by the doctor that Uncle Ben was out of danger. Only then did Kraft breathe a sigh of relief. “It’s all thanks to you, Kraft.” Aunt May wiped away her tears, hugged Kraft tightly, and wouldn’t let go, repeatedly thanking him. “If Ben were gone, I really don’t know if I could go on.” “It’s all right, Aunt Mei. As long as Uncle Ben is okay.” Kraft patted Aunt Mei on the back and whispered words of comfort. “Excuse me.” Just then, a Black man in a police uniform walked over and pointed at Kraft and Peter twice. “I’d like to ask you both to come with me to give a statement.” “Sure, no problem.” Kraft nodded. The officer had been there all along, just waiting for them. Since he was being so accommodating, Kraft certainly wasn’t going to make things difficult for him—besides, he did need to explain the pile of props he’d displayed earlier. Since Kraft and Peter weren’t suspects, the Black police officer didn’t take them back to the station. Instead, he found an empty room right there in the hospital and began taking their statements immediately. Kraft glanced at the earbud in his ear. If he remembered correctly, that hadn’t been there before. It looked like U. S. intelligence agencies might already be getting involved—unfortunately, he couldn’t contact Angela right now. After mentally adding a plan to get himself an inconspicuous bone-conduction headset, Kraft sat down across from the Black police officer alongside Peter. The Black police officer first asked Peter Parker—who had witnessed the entire incident—to recount what had happened. Peter Parker told the story exactly as it happened: how he had watched the robber make off with the cash without intervening, yet had nearly gotten his uncle killed. His words were filled with remorse. However, when asked why he had been at the underground boxing ring, Peter claimed he’d simply gone out of curiosity to take a look. The Black police officer didn’t suspect anything; instead, he offered a few words of comfort, saying it was only natural not to step in when faced with an armed criminal. Kraft, who already knew that Peter Parker was no longer the same person he used to be, snorted disdainfully. If Peter were still the bookish, frail student he once was, Kraft wouldn’t have been so angry. But since the two of them were still on relatively good terms, even though he was annoyed, he didn’t call Peter out. After questioning Peter Parker, the Black police officer turned to Kraft. “Hello, Kraft.” The Black police officer first flashed a row of pearly white teeth and reached out his hand to him. Kraft shook his hand, looking thoroughly puzzled, and only then did the Black police officer explain with a broad smile, “My two sons are huge fans of the mechanical battle pets you invented. They’ve even joined the school’s battle team. Once this interview is over, you’ve got to sign an autograph for me—Hawk and Andy will be over the moon!” “Sure, no problem.” Kraft certainly had enough patience for fans of his products. “Ahem, well then, let’s begin the statement.” The Black police officer tilted his head slightly—probably because someone on his earpiece was prompting him—so he cleared his throat and addressed Kraft in a serious tone. “First of all, how did you find out that Benjamin Parker had been shot? According to the information we received, you must have rushed all the way from your lab on a skateboard the moment Mr. Parker was shot.” “Because of him,” Kraft pointed to Peter Parker standing beside him and said, following the response plan Angela had prepared for him earlier: ““He’d been acting a bit odd at the FEAST shelter a while back, so I got curious and planted a bug on him. Today, I happened to be listening in when I heard he’d actually gone to watch a boxing match. I was about to turn it off when I heard the sounds of a robbery…” Kraft shrugged, relieved. “Good thing Uncle Ben had some luck.” “Wait a minute! When did you plant a bug on me?! How come I didn’t know?!” Peter Parker took it at face value, not knowing just how much of his secret Kraft had overheard. “That’s an invasion of privacy!” “What? You’re going to sue me? If I hadn’t planted that bug, Uncle Ben would’ve died because of you!” Kraft glared back at him. Peter Parker, who had been seething with anger just a moment ago, instantly deflated. Besides, he knew Kraft was already covering for him—after all, he hadn’t just gone to watch some underground boxing match; he’d actually participated in it. “Um… you two can settle this privacy issue privately later, but may I ask—where’s your listening device now?” “Take off your shoes!” Kraft kicked Peter Parker’s left foot and ordered him bluntly. Filled with resentment but too afraid to lash out, Peter obediently took off his shoe and handed it to Kraft. Taking the shoes with obvious disgust, Kraft removed a button-sized disc from the sole and showed it to the Black police officer. “There you go, this is it.” This bugging device—also created by Dr. Agasa—hadn’t been attached long ago, as Kraft claimed, but had been secretly affixed to the sole of Peter’s shoe just moments earlier while rescuing Uncle Ben. At the time, Peter had been so panicked that he hadn’t even noticed Kraft’s subtle maneuver. “It’s actually that small?!” The Black police officer’s eyes widened, revealing a lot of white, which looked a bit creepy. He hesitated for a moment, then asked tentatively, “Are you interested in selling this kind of bugging device to the police?”