Chapter 39: The Secret Base
Under the cover of night in Newark, a taxi sped toward the Port of Newark.
Sitting quietly in the back seat, wearing a low hat that concealed most of his face, was Lance Ryder.
Newark was part of the New York metropolitan area. One of New York's three major airports—Newark Liberty International Airport—was located here.
But despite its close connection to New York City, Newark was not part of New York State. It belonged to New Jersey, separated from Manhattan by the Hudson River.
Although Newark wasn't as glamorous as New York, it was still the most prosperous city in New Jersey.
Its port handled nearly 30% of the maritime freight moving through the New York region.
The shores of Newark Bay formed one of the world's largest container-loading hubs.
Most companies in the area were relatively small factories and businesses.
But together they formed a massive industrial network producing leather goods, jewelry, beer, plastics, electrical equipment, auto parts, and chemical products.
Newark was also an important financial and insurance center in New Jersey.
Many companies unable to afford New York's sky-high costs relocated here.
And yet the distance between downtown Newark and Manhattan was only about 16 kilometers.
Because of its location, Newark attracted all kinds of people.
It was a city filled with opportunity—and danger.
Even though Wilson Fisk was considered the most powerful crime lord in New York, that didn't mean everyone obeyed him.
Italian mafia families.
Irish gangs.
Russian groups.
Japanese and Korean syndicates.
American crime organizations.
And countless smaller gangs.
None of them were eager to submit to one man—even if he called himself the Kingpin of New York.
Criminals had simple desires.
If someone possessed money and power—
They wanted to take it.
Because of the city's chaotic mix of people—and its proximity to the port—Lance Ryder had chosen Newark as the location for his secret base.
Compared with New York, where land was outrageously expensive and surveillance was everywhere, Newark offered freedom.
In New York, gangs, police, the FBI, DEA, and even the CIA had countless informants.
But Newark's oversight was far looser.
For Lance, it was almost a perfect hiding place.
Of course, Newark still functioned mainly as a transit hub.
People and goods passed through it constantly.
But eventually, everything flowed toward New York City, where the largest markets and greatest wealth existed.
For that reason, many organizations still maintained a presence in Newark.
But compared to New York, their manpower here was much smaller.
Outside of critical locations, entire districts were essentially power vacuums.
The taxi stopped outside an old charity hospital.
The building was large and surrounded by pleasant scenery, but it had clearly fallen into disrepair.
Many of its facilities were outdated.
Funding had dried up long ago.
Despite that, the hospital had once treated numerous homeless people and impoverished veterans.
Now, however—
The hospital had quietly come under the control of Sunil Bakshi.
Lance didn't enter through the main building.
Instead, he used a concealed passage leading to the underground level.
Originally, the basement had been used for storage.
Now it had been transformed into a secret laboratory.
And the man running it was someone who had once assisted Bruce Banner.
Dr. Samuel Sterns.
If someone saw Sterns now, they might not even recognize him.
His head had swollen grotesquely.
His skull had expanded upward until it looked almost larger than the rest of his body.
The transformation was the result of a terrible accident.
A wound on his forehead had come into contact with Hulk's blood.
Combined with heavy exposure to gamma radiation, it triggered a horrifying mutation.
Now Sterns could barely appear in public.
He had been forced to hide underground.
And he was under Lance's control.
To be precise—
Under Lance Ryder's.
Although the mutation had left Sterns looking monstrous, it had also dramatically enhanced his mind.
Unlike the Hulk, who relied on brute strength, Sterns developed immense mental abilities.
His powers included eidetic memory, telepathy, and even psychic attacks.
His growth rate still couldn't compare to Lance's, but it was extraordinary nonetheless.
Sterns was extremely intelligent.
His increased brain capacity allowed him to make rapid breakthroughs in multiple scientific fields.
Yet despite his brilliance, he lacked ambition.
He didn't care about money.
He had little interest in power.
Even women held little appeal to him.
All he truly wanted was to leave his name in the history of science.
Unfortunately, his current appearance made public recognition impossible.
And if he revealed his abilities openly, both the military and S.H.I.E.L.D. would immediately capture him.
Lance didn't need to threaten him.
He simply showed Sterns classified examples of human experimentation conducted by those organizations.
That was enough.
Sterns understood the danger.
Working for the military or S.H.I.E.L.D. might accelerate his research—
But the chances of becoming a test subject himself were just as high.
Unless he had no other option, he would never cooperate with them.
Of course, Lance had no intention of letting him go anyway.
Sterns possessed enormous psychic potential.
But compared with Lance—who had practiced magic for over sixty years—his abilities were insignificant.
Mages often supported soldiers during war.
They enhanced strength.
Increased speed.
Sharpened weapons.
Strengthened armor.
But the same magic could easily be reversed.
Weakening enemies.
Slowing them down.
Breaking their defenses.
Those reverse spells were known as curses.
In ancient times, mages like Lance were often called sorcerers or warlocks.
The curses Lance controlled were terrifying.
Even from hundreds of miles away, he could activate the magical seal placed on Sterns.
If he wished—
He could destroy the man completely.
Despite Sterns' sometimes manic behavior in the laboratory, deep down he was a coward.
After experiencing Lance's punishments once, he had no desire to repeat the experience.
As a result, he obediently remained here.
To be fair, Sterns wasn't completely imprisoned.
He could occasionally go upstairs into the hospital.
Take walks.
Get fresh air.
But eventually he always returned.
Because if Lance discovered any attempt to escape—
The pain would be unbearable.
During this time, Sunil Bakshi had also been living in the hospital.
He managed Lance's growing influence over Hammer Industries while simultaneously monitoring Sterns.
Despite Sterns' powerful psychic abilities, he never dared challenge Bakshi.
Bakshi understood people like him far better than Lance did.
If you controlled someone's weakness—
Even the strongest individual would obey.
That was why Lance trusted Bakshi to oversee the facility.
And tonight, he had brought a new scientist here.
A mechanical engineer specializing in unmanned flight technology.
Dr. Spencer.
Along with him were fragments of technology recovered from Ivan Vanko's armor.
Perhaps together they could develop something useful.
Lance had no hesitation manipulating people.
Especially scientists like Dr. Sterns and Dr. Spencer.
Sterns was manageable.
But Spencer had worked with Norman Osborn to hunt Spider-Man.
He wasn't innocent.
Spencer looked around the laboratory with a dark expression.
Then he said bluntly,
"I need my own laboratory."
Despite the vast underground space, he clearly had no interest in working beside Sterns.
Part of the reason was Sterns' grotesque appearance.
And part of it was the unsettling nature of the biological experiments being conducted there.
Spencer still believed himself to be a scientist, not a criminal.
Although he had developed attack drones and the Spider Killer Black Widow, he insisted that his work had only been experimental.
Norman Osborn had been the one who ordered the machines into battle.
Spencer had tried to raise his son Alister with the same values.
Unfortunately, Alister now sought revenge on Spider-Man.
And with Kingpin involved, that path would only lead deeper into darkness.
Spencer had briefly considered secretly contacting his son and manipulating both Kingpin and Lance into destroying each other.
But he quickly abandoned the idea.
He wasn't capable of such intricate schemes.
And Alister certainly wasn't.
If they showed even the slightest suspicious behavior, either Kingpin or Lance would notice immediately.
So Spencer reached a simple conclusion.
The best chance for survival was to cooperate with Lance.
If Lance defeated Kingpin, perhaps father and son could escape their situation.
But cooperation came with conditions.
Sunil Bakshi stepped forward.
"There's a spare basement next door—"
"No," Sterns interrupted suddenly.
"The top floor of the hospital is still empty. Dr. Spencer can use that space. It's much larger."
Of course Sterns preferred being separated as well.
Scientists rarely admired one another.
More often they competed.
"One works underground," Sterns said calmly.
"The other works upstairs."
Lance nodded.
"Fine. That's settled."
"Sunil, take Dr. Spencer upstairs and help him get settled."
Then he turned toward Sterns.
"We need to talk."
After Bakshi escorted Spencer away, Lance asked,
"Doctor… how is our research progressing?"
They had recovered a large quantity of Hulk's blood from Sterns' old laboratory.
Now the samples had finally been processed.
Sterns walked to the experimental table and pointed at three vials.
"We've produced three types of serum," he said seriously.
He pointed to the first vial.
"This one is the most stable. It's a form of Super Soldier Serum."
"But the enhancement is limited. The soldiers created with it won't be very powerful."
He then indicated the second vial.
"This version is stronger but less stable. After the enhanced state ends, the user will suffer severe physical weakness."
Finally, he pointed to the third vial.
"This one is extremely dangerous."
"Anyone who takes it will burn through their entire lifespan in a short period of time."
"But during that time…"
"They will gain immense power."
The three vials glowed faintly under the laboratory lights.
Each one represented a different path—
And a different price.
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