It was late at night in New York, which meant it was afternoon in Mumbai, India, across the ocean.
Dharavi in Mumbai, the second-largest slum in the world, was a labyrinth of cramped, low-rise houses squeezed together, with gaps between them barely wide enough for an underdeveloped adult to squeeze through.
The narrowest passages were impassable even for people, with only some small, matted dogs weaving through them.
"Dr. Banu, is my sister seriously injured?"
Inside a gloomy, damp house made of corrugated iron, canvas, and wooden poles, a small boy tightly clutched two banknotes, his face anxious as he watched "Dr. Banu" clean his sister's infected wound.
"It's not serious. I'll leave you some medicine. Remember to give it to your sister on time, and she should recover in a few days." Dr. Banu calmly reassured the boy in the local language.
"Thank you, Doctor." The boy opened his palm and handed the two crumpled banknotes to Dr. Banu.
Dr. Banu tidied up his medical tools, looked at the banknotes the boy offered, and was silent for a few seconds before reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair:
"Use the money on your sister; she needs nutrition."
With that, he turned, pushed aside the curtain, and left the shack that barely qualified as a room.
Dr. Banu looked left and right, then walked through a series of narrow paths, winding his way to a garbage dump.
The place reeked, and many shabbily dressed people had their heads buried in the trash, trying to find something valuable or a bite to eat.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Dr. Banu clapped his hands, attracting the attention of the poor, then shouted a few sentences in the local language.
The poor people looked confused, but soon, one by one, with terrified expressions, they quickly left, leaving the garbage dump completely empty.
"Come out, you've been following me for so long?" Dr. Banu said to the empty garbage dump. "Are you General Ross's people, or some military organization?"
As he finished speaking, a red-haired woman in a tight black combat suit slowly emerged from her hiding place:
"Dr. Banner, this is a good spot. Millions of people crowded in Dharavi—it's a good place to hide things or people."
Dr. Banu, who was actually the Hulk, Dr. Banner, stood there, observing her:
"I'm glad you call me 'Dr.' and not a monster."
"Who are you? Who do you work for?"
With that, Dr. Banner looked around:
"How many divisions have you sent this time? I don't see any tanks or planes. A few soldiers can't stop me."
"Natasha." The red-haired woman was Black Widow Natasha, dispatched by the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director to carry out a mission with Hawkeye Clint. "I work for S.H.I.E.L.D., and we need you, Dr. Banner."
"Need me, or need the other guy?" Dr. Banner's face held a hint of mockery. "You want to lock me in a stronger cage until you need something smashed again, right?"
"Or lock me in a sturdy surgical brace to conduct research on me in the name of 'benefiting the world'?"
"No, we want to help you," Natasha said.
Dr. Banner chuckled twice:
"You just said you needed me, and now it's 'want to help me.' Which one should I believe?"
Beep! Beep! Beep!
An electronic alert sounded from Dr. Banner's wrist. He raised his wrist to look at the watch, which had been modified into a heart rate monitor, and slowly stepped back a few paces, saying:
"The other guy doesn't like being caged, and I don't like being used."
"I suggest you leave before he comes out."
"Dr. Banner..."
Natasha said, stepping forward, wanting to approach Banner, but he stopped her with a hand:
"Don't come any closer!"
Beep beep beep!
The frequency of the tool on Banner's wrist became increasingly urgent, and a green glint had already flashed in his eyes.
Inhale! Exhale! Inhale! Exhale!
Bruce Banner closed his eyes, took several deep breaths to calm his emotions, and slowly shook his head, staring at Natasha:
"Tell me why you're here."
Natasha stood still, maintaining her distance from Banner. She swallowed, trying her best to remain calm:
"It's a long story, but do you know about the Tesseract? In S.H.I.E.L.D.'s latest research, the rays it emits are gamma rays, and there's no one in the world who understands gamma rays better than you."
"I don't know anything about the Tesseract, I don't intend to learn about it, and I certainly won't help you with any research." Dr. Banner retreated again. "Leave here. I'm saying it one last time."
"We will help you find a way to cure you!" Natasha stood still, not daring to move, but her tone was a bit anxious. "We won't let you lose control again!"
"I can't trust you," Banner said. "I've maintained this status quo for three years. If you hadn't found me, I might have been able to live like this indefinitely."
"Lose control? ..."
Whoosh!
Before Dr. Banner could finish speaking, an arrow flew from behind him, piercing deeply into Dr. Banner's muscle.
Beep beep beep beep!
The heart rate alarm blared frantically. A flicker of anger crossed Banner's face, and his eyes turned completely green.
But with a subtle ticking sound, the arrowhead embedded in his body was already injecting medicine into Banner.
Thump!
Dr. Banner's body fell to the ground.
Phew—
Natasha finally let out a sigh of relief. She knelt on the ground, cold sweat beading on her forehead, and after a moment, she spoke into her earpiece to Hawkeye Clint:
"Can someone else do this decoy work next time?"
Hawkeye Clint didn't answer. He walked over from a distance, pulled the arrow from Banner's body, and reinserted it into the quiver on his back:
"Simple task."
Natasha rolled her eyes, looking at the expressionless Hawkeye, who seemed to consider capturing the Hulk, whom General Ross had pursued for years, as nothing worth mentioning:
"Clint, we've worked together for so many years. When will you change this habit?"
Hawkeye Clint gripped the bow and shook it forcefully. The longbow immediately folded into a short stick and was tucked behind him. His tone was very flat:
"If he had turned into Hulk, it might have been a bit of a challenge. But without transforming, he's just an ordinary person."
Natasha shook her head, not knowing what to say.
It was evening in Mumbai, India, and early morning in New York, U.S.A.
Manhattan, in the basement of the Osborn Group building, which was cordoned off by the police.
"I don't know much about gamma rays. This electromagnetic wave, with an extremely short wavelength and extremely high energy, has extremely strong penetrating power and is radiation released when atomic nuclei undergo energy level transitions and de-excitation."
"From the Osborn Group's experimental logs, even if I destroy Norman Osborn's evil personality, he is very likely to develop an evil personality again under the influence of the gamma ray-affected serum."
"I need to cure him completely to prevent him from breaking out of prison after a rampage."
"Give me some time, and I can become an expert in the field of gamma rays, but time is short. I need to find Dr. Banner to help me research an antidote for Norman."
"At the same time, Dr. Banner is also a nuclear physicist; he can perfectly partner with Dr. Otto."
"His other identity, 'Hulk,' also requires countermeasures. Close contact will allow me to understand him sufficiently."
From the sixtieth floor down to the third basement, Batman had spent the entire night searching for any Super Soldier Serum formulas, data, or serum. It was now early morning, and the sky was already faintly lit.
After Kingpin acquired shares and they were frozen, and Norman Osborn was ousted from the board, Osborn Group was now facing a power vacuum.
"If I were General Ross, I would take this opportunity to station the military at Osborn Group," Batman thought to himself.
He needed to destroy everything related to the serum to prevent General Ross from taking over Osborn Group under various pretexts before Harry Osborn even took office.
Destroying all the data would buy Batman some time to react, even if General Ross took over Osborn Enterprise.
At the same time, on the streets of Manhattan, armored vehicles in dark green camouflage surrounded Osborn Group from all directions.
Silent, orderly soldiers, armed with firearms, quickly sealed off Osborn Group. Simultaneously, a portion of them stormed into the building, occupying Osborn Group floor by floor.
A helicopter, its rotors roaring in the night, slowly landed on the helipad on the top floor of Osborn Manor.
General Ross opened the cabin door, his hair disheveled by the wind from the rotors, but a triumphant smile was on his face. He took the walkie-talkie handed to him and began to issue orders:
"Completely seal off Osborn Group. Tomorrow morning, announce to the media that the military will implement military supervision and technical blockade of Osborn Enterprise."
"Reason? To prevent the proliferation of dangerous Osborn technologies."