Chapter 75: Severed Arm Regeneration
Ribs, leg bones, humerus—blindness, deafness, internal bleeding—
Batman designed a plan a hundred times more complex than normal for potential combat with the Hulk.
This included procedures for fractures of any one or several of the body's two hundred and six bones, as well as handling potential damage to various organs.
"Barbara, retrieve Oscorp Tower's construction blueprints. Mark all load-bearing columns and shear walls. Calculate their maximum load limits individually."
"Hack into Oscorp's laboratory equipment database. Catalog all liquid nitrogen quantities. Mark their storage locations as well."
"Chart the distribution of fire suppression pipes within the walls."
"Retrieve information on all blood relatives, friends, and romantic partners of Bruce Banner."
"Modify the sonic frequency of the bat-signal transmitter."
"Activate Batmobile climbing mode."
One command after another was methodically executed by Prophet AI. Inside City Hall subway station, images flashed rapidly across multiple computer screens Batman had set up.
Batman memorized every detail displayed on the screens, retrieving the pumpkin bombs he'd confiscated from Norman Osborn's manor vault—unused until now.
Batman had already modified these pumpkin bombs. Not pursuing lethal purposes, he'd transformed them into flashbangs that, when detonated, produced not only intense blinding light but also high-frequency noise and massive concussive force.
All preparations proceeded. Time slowly passed. Less than ten minutes remained until the "one hour" General Ross mentioned on the phone.
The sun hadn't yet set, but the moon had already risen. Under simultaneous military and police control, the streets near Oscorp had long been empty.
Partly because General Ross's wording at the afternoon press conference was too frightening—he'd even declared Oscorp Tower a military restricted zone, strictly forbidding anyone from entering.
Additionally, New York police, helpless against General Ross, could only block roads, making all vehicles and pedestrians passing through detour around the area.
This didn't affect Batman. Still following subway lines, he emerged at a subway entrance not far from Oscorp Tower, parking beside a tall building next to Oscorp.
"Barbara, take over driving."
As Batman spoke, he pressed a button inside the Batmobile.
WHOOSH!
The roof opened. The electromagnetic catapult activated. Batman's black figure became a shadow ascending into the dusk sky.
This time, the Batmobile ascended with him.
Activating climbing mode, the Batmobile—now controlled by Prophet AI—slowly lowered its massive bat symbol from the front to the bottom. Three grappling hooks at the front fired in rotation, retracted, then fired again.
The Batmobile slowly rose at a relatively gradual pace. Its movement wasn't quiet. Someone noticed the vertically climbing Batmobile and called the police.
But by the time police arrived, they saw only walls damaged by embedded grappling hooks. The Batmobile had vanished.
Oscorp Tower, twentieth floor, in the laboratory.
"Connors: I've produced enough stabilizer for seven patients for half a month."
Professor Connors was communicating with doctors at Metropolitan Hospital via computer.
"Thank you, Professor. That's sufficient, even with surplus," the doctor replied.
Professor Connors looked at the text on the computer screen with confusion, slowly typing three keys with his left hand: "Why?"
He knew each patient's condition intimately. He'd prepared medication portions based on recent circumstances. Logically, there shouldn't be surplus.
"Leo isn't going to make it. His condition deteriorated rapidly. He might not last twenty-four hours."
Reading the computer screen's response, Professor Connors stared in shock for a long moment.
He knew who Leo was. He knew every critical patient receiving his Temporary Regenerative Stabilizer.
Leo had just turned eight but inexplicably suffered from fatal organ failure—the most severe among all of Connors's patients.
Current medical methods couldn't completely cure this condition. Only the regenerative stabilizer Connors developed while researching limb regeneration technology could barely sustain life.
"Just give me more time, and I can develop complete regenerative serum."
Connors instinctively looked toward the glass cabinet container—at that sole living mouse.
It lay quietly in the container, silent, showing no side effects from the injected reagent.
Click.
While Professor Connors was thinking, his computer suddenly went black. Then only an extremely simple dialogue box appeared on screen:
"Peter: Professor, I've arranged your extraction method."
Unlike before when Batman transmitted evidence of General Ross's crimes to Professor Connors via email, this time Batman directly hacked into Connors's computer. Information displayed from a pop-up dialogue box.
"Connors: Wait, Peter. I have an emergency situation here."
Connors hurriedly typed with one hand.
"The Hulk is being transported here. Less than ten minutes remain." Batman's message appeared rapidly.
"No, wait—" Professor Connors repeatedly pressed "No."
"I'll arrive in five minutes. Whatever you're planning to do, I can help you do it better. Don't—"
CLICK!
Before Batman's message finished appearing, Professor Connors unplugged the computer's power.
Currently, only one method existed to save the child Leo—using the regenerative serum that was theoretically nearly complete but hadn't undergone human trials.
No one understood regenerative serum better than him. This was his research project.
The regenerative serum had already succeeded on the mouse. Until now, no adverse reactions had appeared.
"Peter, you're right. Ross is a threat."
Professor Connors murmured quietly, setting aside the completed stabilizer and instead retrieving the regenerative serum he'd planned to destroy when leaving Oscorp.
"But before me is a dying child, and I have the chance to save him. A theoretical threat and a life fading before my eyes—I cannot ignore the latter."
Compassion for patients, desire for his own severed arm's regeneration, hunger for experimental success.
Under three overlapping mindsets, Professor Connors didn't hesitate to load the serum into a syringe, then jab it firmly into his severed right arm.
He would use himself for human experimentation, ensuring the regenerative serum's reliability before providing it to the child named Leo.
Professor Connors believed he would succeed. Then he lost consciousness.