Become Kingpin and build a hero mercenary company.

Page 11

To grow bigger and stronger is not just a slogan.

It is a blueprint that has already been laid out, and the writer is none other than him, Wilson Fiske.

Chapter 21: The Equipment Department is Established, with a Unique Style

In the basement of the Fisker Building, in an area that was originally used to store the group's redundant servers but has now been completely emptied and renovated, a brand-new, slightly rough metal sign hangs at the entrance, with the words "Equipment R&D Department" engraved in an industrial-style font.

Rather than a high-tech research and development center, it's more like an enlarged, extremely chaotic, and idiosyncratic combination of a university engineering lab and a junkyard. Various unidentifiable instruments, tangled wires, half-disassembled mechanical structures, and mountains of scrap metal, plastic, and composite materials are scattered everywhere. The air is thick with the mixed smells of solder, machine oil, and some strange chemical reagent.

The department's temporary head, a young engineer named Leopold "Leo" Fitz, was excitedly gesturing in front of a half-finished workbench. His hair was disheveled, his goggles were pushed up on his forehead, and his white lab coat was stained with oil and suspicious burn marks.

“Perfect! It’s a genius design! Look at this energy circuit! Look at this structural stability!” He muttered to himself, looking at a strange device with two handles that looked like it was cobbled together from rusty water pipes and a scrapped car gearbox.

Wesley stood in the doorway, carefully avoiding a metal coil on the ground still emitting a faint arc of electricity, his brow furrowed as he surveyed the disaster scene left behind by the "creative storm." Behind him followed Flint, the Sandman who had just finished training and been summoned.

“Dr. Leo,” Wesley cleared his throat, trying to get the other’s attention, “the boss is very concerned about the progress of the equipment department. He has seen the several initial design drafts you submitted earlier. He wants you to produce a prototype that can be tested in practice as soon as possible.”

Leo whirled around, his eyes bloodshot with excitement, but frighteningly bright: "Mr. Wesley! And Mr. Sandman! Just in time!" He dropped the water pipe assembly, strode to the other side of the workbench, lifted a dust cover, revealing several items underneath...

"Look! The first batch of prototype products from the Equipment Department! Adhering to the boss's top priority of 'practicality first, cost controllable,' and combined with the combat data from our heroes, this is a masterpiece made with painstaking effort!"

The first thing that catches the eye is a shield. But it's completely different from the smooth, round shield that Captain America is known for, a symbol of honor and justice. This shield is an irregular polygon, with an uneven surface, as if it were crudely welded together from various metal plates of different materials and colors, with even some rough edges. Most strangely, in the center of the shield is a fist-sized, horn-shaped speaker that flashes green light continuously.

“This is… a shield?” Sandman Flint asked hesitantly.

“That’s right! ‘Multifunctional Adaptive Protection Unit - Prototype’!” Leo proudly patted the shield’s surface, making a dull thud. “Don’t let its… well, industrial aesthetics fool you, its defensive capabilities have been simulated and are strong enough to withstand continuous fire from conventional rifle bullets! The built-in shock absorption module can absorb more than 70% of the impact energy! And more importantly, it has an intelligent auxiliary system!”

He pressed a button on the shield handle.

Suddenly, a piercing electrical crackling sound came from the speaker in the center of the shield, followed by a flat, emotionless electronic voice:

[Defense mode activated. Impact force calculation in progress...]

[Warning: Increased heart rate detected. We recommend remaining calm and taking deep breaths.]

Keep going. You can do it. Don't give up.

Based on the latest battle situation analysis, it is recommended to move three meters to the left to avoid potential ranged attacks. Repeat: Move three meters to the left.

Sandman: "..."

Wesley: "...Is it...refueling?"

“That’s right!” Leo explained excitedly, “Considering the psychological fluctuations that heroes may experience under high-pressure combat conditions, I specially built in a ‘tactical encouragement and basic physiological monitoring module’! It not only provides physical protection, but also becomes the hero’s most loyal comrade-in-arms, providing spiritual support! Isn’t that thoughtful?”

Wesley rubbed his temples, feeling his blood pressure rise slightly. He pointed to the next piece of equipment.

It was a folded, vest-like object made of a matte, slightly grainy gray fabric, covered with various unidentified pockets, hooks, and several exposed, shimmering blue energy conduits.

"This is the 'Basic Tactical Support Platform - Prototype'!" Leo picked up the vest, shook it open with a whoosh, and it jingled. "Made with special composite fibers, it provides basic cut and stab protection. Most importantly, it has a modular design! Look, here you can attach a small tool kit, here you can insert a spare magazine (if the hero uses a gun), here is a pre-installed energy battery interface, and here there's even an integrated simple medical kit containing hemostatic gel and stimulants! It's fully functional, meeting the basic needs of heroes in various complex environments!"

Sandman stared at the vest that looked like it was for wilderness survival or interstellar warfare, paused for a moment, and then asked, "Dr. Leo, I am Sandman... My ability is sandification; most physical attacks are ineffective against me. Also, when I fight... my body often turns into sand, and this vest..."

Leo paused for a moment, then slapped his forehead: "That's right! Mr. Sandman, your ability is matter assimilation! Conventional equipment is indeed not very suitable! It's okay!" He immediately threw off his vest, rummaged through the pile of junk under the workbench, and pulled out a... spray can.

“Then this! ‘High-Efficiency Sand Surfactant - Prototype’!” Leo handed the spray can to Sandman. “I analyzed your combat data and found that you still have room for improvement in the cohesion strength and energy conduction efficiency of your sand particles! This spray! It can change the physical properties of the sand particle surface in a short time, enhancing their mutual adsorption and energy carrying capacity! Simply put, after spraying it, your sand spear will be harder, your sand shield thicker, and your sandstorm more powerful! The duration is about ten minutes!”

Sandman took the thing that looked no different from a commercially available hairspray can with some skepticism. The can had the words "For Sand Use Only - Do Not Spray in Eyes" scrawled on it in marker.

“And this!” Leo pulled out another palm-sized device covered in buttons and featuring a small antenna. “'Portable Environmental Dust Aggregator - Prototype'! Once activated, it generates sound waves of a specific frequency, forcibly attracting dust and fine particles within a 100-meter radius, quickly replenishing your 'ammunition'! It's especially suitable for combat in clean indoor environments!”

The sandman stared at the two "pieces of equipment" in his hands, unsure how to react. They sounded... somewhat useful? But their appearance and description made it hard to have any confidence in them.

Wesley took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone steady: "Dr. Leo, your... creativity and efficiency are commendable. However, regarding the equipment's appearance and... user experience, could you consider some optimizations? For example, the... refueling function of this shield?"

Leo's eyes widened, as if he had heard something unbelievable: "Optimization? Mr. Wesley! These are all for ultimate practicality and cost control! What use are those flashy appearances and interactions, other than increasing manufacturing costs and distracting users? Our association's equipment pursues inner beauty! It's about practical combat value!"

He pointed to the shield that was still using a flat, electronic voice to incessantly proclaim, "Excessive ambient noise detected; hearing test recommended," and exclaimed fervently, "Listen to that! How timely this reminder is! How thoughtful this care is!"

Just then, a communicator in a corner of the equipment department rang; it was Kingpin's direct line.

Leo immediately rushed over to answer the call: "Boss! Equipment Department, Fitz reporting!"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the communicator before Kingpin's deep voice came through: "Fitz, I've seen the design drawings for the 'sandstorm generator' you submitted."

Leo tensed up instantly: "Yes, boss! What do you think...?" The design was an auxiliary equipment he conceived based on the Sandman's abilities, designed to expand the Sandman's control range and precision over sand and dust through energy field resonance, but its appearance... was a hybrid of an industrial blower and octopus tentacles.

There was silence for a few seconds on the communicator.

"...The principle is feasible." Kingpin's voice was unreadable. "Create a prototype as soon as possible for testing. Appearance... is not important, make sure the functionality works."

"Yes, boss! Mission accomplished!" Leo, as if injected with adrenaline, excitedly ended the call, turned to Wesley and Sandman, and waved his fist. "Did you hear that? The boss said, appearance doesn't matter! Functionality is king!"

Wesley looked at the engineer who was immersed in his own world, then at the can of "sand hairspray" and the "dust vacuum cleaner" in Sandman's hand, and sighed helplessly.

He had a premonition that the style of the heroes in the future association would probably, under Dr. Leo's "careful crafting," head in an increasingly peculiar but also potentially... unexpectedly practical direction.

Flint the Sandman weighed the spray can in his hand, then looked at the shield that was still muttering to itself, "According to the database, victory belongs to those who persevere to the end," and a complex expression appeared on his face, a mixture of confusion, helplessness, and a hint of curiosity.

Perhaps... it wouldn't hurt to give it a try?

Chapter 22: The Third Eccentric: The "Client" Eccentric

In Manhattan, inside an advertising design firm filled with creativity and anxiety, it's nearly midnight. Most of the workstations are already empty, except for one cubicle in the corner, where a pale light still shines.

Alan, a once passionate but now bloodshot and numb senior designer, stared intently at the densely annotated design draft on the computer screen, almost unrecognizable from its original form. His hair was greasy and messy, his face was pale, and his hand holding the mouse trembled slightly.

Next to the computer, there were a dozen or so empty coffee cups and energy drink cans scattered around, as well as a document that had been crumpled and flattened countless times—the 47th revision comments.

"The overall feeling is off; it lacks impact."

"Could the color be a bit more sophisticated? Like that... iridescent black?"

"Could you shrink the logo a little while enlarging it?"

"What we want is something that looks classy at first glance, yet is approachable, both fashionable and classic, both niche and mainstream."

"Let's optimize it a bit more. I want to see the final version by tomorrow morning."

The mesmerizing voice of "Manager Zhang," who was in charge of liaison with the client, seemed to still be playing on a loop in his ears, intertwining with the contradictory and mystical modification requests on the screen, creating an indescribable mental pollution.

He's been working overtime for almost a month straight, getting less than four hours of sleep a night. All his creativity and energy are being drained by the endless, pointless revisions. He feels like a printer that's about to break down, constantly spitting out rejected drafts.

The last thread of reason snapped when the chat window popped up with the message, "I think the first version is better, but can we incorporate the essence of the subsequent forty-six versions based on the first version?"

"Hah...hah..." Alan's throat made a sound like a broken bellows. He suddenly raised his head, and his eyes were no longer bloodshot, but had become a turbid vortex, constantly churning with all sorts of chaotic colors and symbols! His body began to twitch and swell unnaturally, and his skin surface was covered with a dense array of strange patterns, like typesetting error codes.

"Something feels off...it lacks impact..."

"Let's optimize it again..."

"I want the final version!!!"

What he emitted was no longer human language, but a mental noise mixed with countless suggestions for revision, nitpicking accusations, and metaphysical demands! This noise, like a tangible shockwave, suddenly spread out from him!

“Buzz——!!!”

The entire office area was the first to be affected.

A programmer who was taking a nap at his desk suddenly woke up with a start, his eyes instantly turning frantic. He clutched his head and screamed, "This bug will never be fixed! It'll never be fixed! The requirements have changed again!!"

A female planner, who was packing up to leave work, suddenly slammed the documents in her hand to the ground and roared at the empty seat: "Your KPIs! My KPIs! His KPIs! They're all bullshit!!"

Even the stubborn pothos in the corner is visibly curling and turning yellow!

Chaos is not physical destruction, but a more terrifying form of mental breakdown and cognitive pollution!

Alan, or rather, the eccentric "client" at this moment, slowly stood up from his workstation. His body swelled to nearly three meters, surrounded by a disturbing, mind-numbing aura of mental noise. His distorted face bore a morbid, obsessive pursuit of "perfection," and with each step he took, invisible mental ripples spread, plunging all living beings within range into a vortex of logical confusion and self-doubt.

[Midtown Manhattan, XX Advertising Company: Extremely high levels of mental pollution and cognitive distortion energy detected! Threat level assessment: Ghost!]

[Event Type: Emotional/Cognitive Variant (Party A), with the ability to release a mental field of "infinite revision suggestions," causing logical collapse, mental agitation, and an infinite cycle of self-denial within its range. It possesses extremely strong mental pollution and domain-specific characteristics.]

[Mission Issued: Immediately proceed to subdue the "Client" monster, interrupt its mental pollution field, and rescue the trapped civilians. Mission Level: Demon. Reward Points: 500. Warning: The target poses a high threat level; teamwork is recommended.]

A piercing alarm and a scarlet ghost-level indicator instantly appeared on the main screen of the association's command center and on the app of all registered heroes.

"Demon-level!" Wesley's expression changed. This was the first time since the association's founding that it had encountered a threat explicitly identified as Demon-level by the system! "Contact Sandman immediately! Notify all heroes in the Manhattan area with mental resistance of C-level or higher to prepare for coordinated combat!"

As soon as the order was given, Flint the Sandman received the highest priority task directly from the system. He was testing the "high-efficiency sand surfactant" that Dr. Leo had given him. Sensing the urgency of the task, he immediately put down the spray can and said in a deep voice, "I'm leaving right away!"

Minutes later, the Sandman transformed into a sandstorm and arrived first at the office building where the advertising company was located. Police had already cordoned off the area and attempted to enter, but officers near the building showed clear signs of agitation, inattention, and illogical thinking, rendering them ineffective.

"The situation inside is terrible!" Sheriff Anderson, who was in charge of the scene, saw Sandman as if he had seen a savior. He suppressed the discomfort in his brain and said, "That monster... his voice, or rather something else, can turn a person's mind into a tangled mess!"

Sandman nodded; he could feel the extremely unsettling sense of oppression emanating from inside the building. He didn't rush in but waited for the association's assigned coordinators.

Soon, two more figures arrived.

One of them is a "mind trainer" wearing a light gray uniform and a silver mask. His abilities are an excellent choice for dealing with mental pollution.

The other is a newcomer, codenamed "Iron Wall," whose ability is to create a small-scale energy barrier, and is rated D+.

“Mr. Sandman, Mr. Meditation Master.” Ironwall was a young man who looked somewhat nervous, but he tried his best to remain calm. “My barrier should be able to isolate that kind of mental interference to some extent.”

"The plan is as follows." Sandman, as the highest-ranking hero on the scene, quickly issued instructions: "Meditation Master, you are responsible for neutralizing and purifying the main mental pollution. Iron Wall, you maintain the barrier around us to reduce the impact. I will be responsible for the main attack and suppression. The goal is to subdue the core target as soon as possible and disrupt the domain."

"Understood," the meditation master replied succinctly.

Iron Wall took a deep breath and pushed his hands forward, creating a pale blue, semi-transparent energy barrier that enveloped the three of them. The moment they entered the barrier, the dizzying mental noise indeed diminished by more than half.

The three quickly rushed into the building.

The scene inside the building was even more bizarre. In the office area, the once elite white-collar workers were now like headless flies. Some were frantically typing on their computer screens and then deleting everything, some were muttering to themselves and repeating work processes, and some were slumped on the floor with empty eyes... Everyone was trapped in some kind of endless hell composed of "revision suggestions" and "final deadlines".

At the heart of the area, the eccentric "Client," Alan, stood with his arms outstretched, reveling in the chaos he had created. The mental noise emanating from him was like tangible tentacles, constantly drilling into the minds of his victims.

“Not perfect enough… never perfect enough…” he murmured in a dreamlike voice.

Upon seeing the three Sandmen break in, his cloudy eyes immediately locked onto them, and his mental noise suddenly intensified, crashing against the barrier like a tsunami!

"Another new... draft has been submitted for review?" The strange man let out a twisted laugh. "Something feels off! It lacks impact! It needs major revisions!"

The powerful mental impact caused the iron barrier to fluctuate violently. His face paled, but he gritted his teeth and persevered. The meditation master immediately stepped forward, pressing his hands together. An invisible field of silence expanded outwards, like a pillar in the middle of a torrent, stubbornly counteracting and purifying the filthy mental noise. The two invisible forces collided in the air, producing a hissing, teeth-grinding sound.

Without hesitation, Sandman charged forward during the brief opening created by the Master of Tranquility! His arms instantly turned into sand, condensing into two enormous sand fists, which slammed towards the monster with a whistling sound!

"Too monotonous! Lacking variety!" the monster shrieked, its mental noise coalescing into an invisible shield that actually blocked the Sandman's heavy punch! At the same time, more mental tentacles bypassed the Mind Master's force field, attempting to penetrate the Sandman's mind.

A wave of intense agitation and self-doubt washed over Sandman, and even the structure of his Sand Fist began to falter. "Was my attack... really not creative enough?" An absurd thought flashed through his mind.

"Calm your mind!" the meditator whispered, and an even stronger power of silence swept through, dispelling the distracting thoughts in the sandman's mind.

Sandman's spirits lifted, realizing he couldn't rely solely on brute force. He changed tactics, his body suddenly exploding into countless sand grains that enveloped the monster like smoke. At the same time, he manipulated the sand grains to attach to the monster's body, attempting to physically isolate him from the outside world and disrupt his energy release.

"Too much interference! It's affecting the main expression! Clean it up!" The strange man twisted his body violently, and mental noise exploded in all directions like a shockwave, shaking away many of the sand grains that had attached to him.

Just then, Ironwall seized the opportunity, contracting the barrier to focus its protection on the meditator, allowing him to concentrate more on combating the core mental pollution.

The meditator closed his eyes, immersing himself entirely in controlling the field of silence. His field was no longer a passive defense, but began to actively permeate and disintegrate the monster's chaotic mental realm, like mercury spilling across the ground. He channeled his pursuit of "absolute stillness" back into the monster!

"That's it."

A silent thought is more powerful than any roar.

The strange man's mental noises began to become intermittent, and the obsession and madness on his face froze for a moment. The chaotic aura around him also began to flicker.

“No… we can’t stop… it’s not the final version yet…” He struggled, but the meditator’s pure intention of “stillness” and “cessation” acted like a stabilizing force, beginning to calm this chaotic area.

Sandman seized this fleeting opportunity! All the sand grains were instantly gathered and highly compressed, condensing in his hand into an unprecedented, metallic-looking, and incredibly sharp sand blade! He used the effect of Dr. Leo's spray, greatly increasing the cohesion and energy conductivity of the sand grains!

There will be no final version!

"This is the final draft!"

The Sandman roared, his figure merging with the giant sand blade, transforming into a streak of yellowish-brown light that tore through the air. Taking advantage of the moment when the monster was distracted by the Mind Master's thoughts and his mental domain was breached, he slashed down fiercely!

"laugh--!"

There was no earth-shattering explosion, only a soft sound that seemed to cut through countless chaotic thoughts.

The mental noise stopped abruptly.

The chaotic halo completely dissipated.

The eccentric Alan, the "client," rapidly shrank back to the exhausted designer, collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

Domain, declassified.

Inside the office area, the employees who had been caught in the chaos suddenly woke up as if from a dream, looking around blankly. Some even began to sob quietly, a sign of relaxation after extreme tension.

The meditator slowly withdrew the force field, slightly panting, her face pale beneath the mask. The barrier also breathed a sigh of relief and removed its energy barrier.

The Sandman looked at the giant sand blade slowly dissipating in his hand, then at the unconscious Alan and the people who had regained consciousness, and breathed a sigh of relief.