Chapter 21 Clues? The Doctor's Investigative Direction.
Tor, a software called the Onion Router, was something Allen certainly knew.
Essential for gang members who commit murder, robbery, and sell stolen goods; a great helper for criminals at home and while traveling.
As we all know, the surface network that people use in daily life actually accounts for less than five percent of the internet world. Most information is actually hidden deep within the network, concealed by layers of encryption.
Sometimes it's for the sake of information confidentiality, but more often it's to achieve some ulterior motives.
The Onion router was originally developed for the former purpose; it's an anonymous communication technology developed by the US Navy to ensure the security and secrecy of transmitting military information. It was only in recent years that it was extended to the civilian sector, but it has ended up becoming one of the tools some people use to access the dark web.
Just like its name suggests, when users access websites through Tor, information is encrypted layer by layer, like an onion. Login information and communication content are virtually impossible to leak, so… Allen quite likes to buy bones through Tor—it has many precious alien skeleton specimens—and if the payment method is Bitcoin, being traced is almost impossible.
Allen never expected that a high school student like Grace would have access to the dark web.
“I was just trying to make some money. James said there would be absolutely no problem…” Grace said haltingly. “He told me he’d done this many times before and never had any problems. I don’t know who gave him these things; I was just doing what he asked. He told me that if I succeeded, I could get a lot of money, but I absolutely couldn’t let anyone find out, or there would be serious consequences. I’m sorry, Mom, I just wanted to help you…”
"You silly child!" Mrs. Laura cried as she wiped Grace's tears. "I told you James wasn't a good man, you..."
“Tell me about James,” Allen interrupted their useless confessions and weeping.
Grace struggled to regulate her breathing, and several times Allen thought she was about to have another attack. Fortunately, Grace held on.
Through Grace, Allen finally obtained some useful information.
James Pedro, Grace's classmate and boyfriend, was the one who gradually led Grace to choose to use her body as a tool for drug trafficking to make money.
Grace didn't know who the other party's contact was. She only saw James Pedro secretly skip a class and then retrieve the item. James wasn't the only one doing this at school; Grace knew James's close friends, and even several girls in the school had done it. Everyone tacitly agreed.
It was precisely because no one who did this had gotten into any trouble, and because she had seen her mother struggling to make ends meet due to lack of money, that Grace made her decision.
This was the first time Grace had done something like this, and due to her nervousness, she may have accidentally torn the outer wall of the balloons while swallowing them, which led to the current situation.
Allen found it very difficult to understand.
He knew that people can be irrational when their hormones are surging, but he never imagined that a girl could entrust all her trust to a boyfriend she had only been dating for less than a year.
Interestingly, Allen felt that the surname Pedro sounded familiar. However, after frowning and thinking for a long time, he still couldn't remember where he had seen it before.
Perhaps his brain deleted some irrelevant information for him.
“…I know James’s brother.” Mrs. Laura wiped away her tears and looked at Allen. “James’s brother, Alex, is also a policeman. He was injured in an operation not long ago, and I even took Grace to visit him. Alex is a good policeman, but James has always been a terrible student. He skips classes, gets into fights, and often loafs around on school days. I was against Grace dating James from the start, but…”
“Mom, James wouldn’t lie to me,” Grace said. “He said he would help me, this time it’s just… just…”
After much arguing, Grace still couldn't come up with a clear explanation. After all, anyone with normal human values would know that someone who sends their girlfriend to smuggle drugs couldn't possibly be a good person.
Grace had clearly come to her senses after her impulsive act, but she was even more afraid of the serious consequences of losing this large quantity of expensive 'goods'. Needless to say, the police wouldn't let her off easily, and the criminal underworld would likely be even less likely to let her go. The dual trauma, both psychological and physical, caused her to break down in tears again, unable to breathe.
"Calm down, tears won't change anything." Allen lowered his head, looking intently into the girl's swollen eyes. "I need to help you solve your problems, not listen to you cry about how frustrated you are. Do you trust me?"
Grace stared blankly into the doctor's cold eyes, and nodded involuntarily.
That green hue resembled a calm lake, and gazing upon it made one wonder what kind of monster might be lurking within.
But the monster also signifies power.
Seeing that the girl had finally stopped crying, Allen straightened up: "Just say what you know objectively, and don't overdo it with your excessive emotions. Leave the rest to me and the lawyer."
My phone vibrated.
Allen looked down and saw that Matthew had told him they had arrived.
“The lawyer I found has arrived, and he will protect your best interests within the bounds of the law.” Alan nodded to the mother and daughter. “Don’t worry about the fees, I’ll take care of that. Also, don’t go out alone recently, stay in the hospital for now. If you need anything, tell Maggie, or come directly to me—but I don’t want to hear any more of a little girl’s inexplicable thoughts and foolish love stories.”
"Did you understand what I'm saying, Miss Laura? The only person you can ever trust is yourself. Don't put your hopes on others or pray that they will save you. There are no princes in the world, only devils disguised as princes."
Completely bewildered, Mrs. Laura could only nod sullenly. She had no other choice but to trust Dr. Osborn. Grace, however, seemed to find a strange sense of security in Allen's indifferent expression. She whispered a thank you to Allen, then drifted off to sleep again with a relieved expression.
**
After leaving the hospital, Allen easily logged onto the forum Grace had mentioned.
When the familiar interface unfolded before his eyes, Allen couldn't help but laugh in exasperation. No wonder Lex Luthor had specifically called to mock him; it had all happened right under his nose, and he hadn't even noticed.
Just a few days ago, he offered a reward on this website for a photo of Lex Luthor headfirst and intimately touching a toilet.
He logged in with Grace's account and immediately saw the forum.
It appeared to be just an ordinary forum for metaphysics, where people discussed black magic and some ancient artifacts that looked extremely evil, and some self-proclaimed mediums boasted about how many souls and evil spirits they had destroyed, which drew ridicule from 'shamans' and disdain from a bunch of 'mages'. The mix of true and false information made it seem like a carnival for a bunch of lunatics.
In this childish post that even a normal person passing by might find laughable, there was a user with a reverse triple helix icon who stood out. He very practically and sincerely told every commenter that he had a way to make big money, a combination of magic and technology, safe and fast, and that they could chat with him privately if they were interested.
Many people initially mocked him in the comments, but those mockery quickly turned into a slap in the face—more users began to post comments here sharing their joy of success.
Allen had no idea that American high school students could be this stupid; it was as if the places where their brains should be were filled with sponges.
He thought for a moment, then took a screenshot of the post and sent it directly to Luther.
[Is this what you wanted me to see? —from Allen]
Luther answered the call immediately.
"Darling, you finally found out, a few days later than I expected. I was so scared I thought you'd decided to regress into a legal but boring ordinary person!"
"Tell me, what did you do in there?" Allen continued browsing the page while rapidly typing on the keyboard. "Did you deliberately hide this post so I wouldn't find it when I had Deathstroke shove you headfirst into the toilet? Or was it your idea to get a bunch of clueless high schoolers to set up a smokescreen?"
“Guess?” Luther retorted slyly. “Don’t be so serious, Allen. You see, I’m just confirming your idea again, aren’t I? You told me that humans are always foolish, that given a choice, they’ll always choose the seemingly easiest path, even if it’s a dead end. Just like how they chose to let a dictatorial alien protect Earth. So I think our ideas are similar, and we should seek common ground while respecting our differences and cooperate closely. Wouldn’t it be better to work together to build an Earth without superheroes and aliens, a more suitable place for human habitation?”
"You mean to have robots monitor everyone, rule their minds, tame their habits, and then make them fawn over you like dogs and shout 'Long live Luther!'" Allen scoffed. "If I may be so bold, there's a place that can satisfy your ambitions—I'm willing to fund a pig farm for you in Brudhaven, and provide the technology for free, so that every pig on the farm will call you 'Your Majesty' whenever they see you."
A sneer came from the other end of the phone, its origin unknown.
Allen frowned. He found the voice very familiar, but couldn't remember where he had heard it before.
Lex Luthor's lips twitched.
“…Dear Allen, as the more intelligent party, I believe it is my responsibility to choose a more advantageous path for humanity to deal with the threats from the universe. After all, their intelligence is insufficient to make the right choice.” Luthor took a deep breath to avoid being driven to his death by Allen prematurely. “Like your little friend from New York said, with great power comes great responsibility, doesn’t it? Allen, you also believe you have a responsibility to bear… But before that, we need to work together to solve some minor troubles on the road to our ideals. The existence of superheroes is clearly unnecessary.”
“Moreover, I have explored the ultimate mysteries of the universe and genes, and I have gone far further on this path than you can imagine,” Luther said. “Unfortunately, when I finally stood at what I thought was the end, I discovered that there was still a long way to go and another virgin peak yet to be climbed. I need your strength, Allen.”
Allen: "...I have a question. Are you planning to move the headquarters of Lexcorp to Myanmar? Or is some alien prince stranded on Earth and needs your sponsorship of $50 to fill up his rocket with fuel? Oh, and by the way, are you happy with your relationship with the IRS?"
This time, Allen clearly heard a series of loud laughs coming from the other end of the receiver.
Luther: "...You stubborn little bastard, Norman Osborn's biggest mistake in life was not strangling you when you were born."
Allen got him investigated by the IRS for a whole month, and he finally got rid of those petty bastards by paying a huge fine.
He hates the IRS.
And: "...I hate you, Alan Osborn! I curse you to be followed by Daredevil every day, and one day you'll be locked up in jail!"
Allen pressed the Enter key, and after seeing the email sent successfully, he finally leaned back with satisfaction. "Don't look like you're going to cry and run home to your mother after failing, dear Lex."
"Is it so hard to accept your own ignorance and incompetence? Don't lie to yourself while you're lying to others; you're just trying to satisfy your own selfish desires. I suggest you pull back your overreaching hand before I lose my patience, or I'll cut it off."
“Actually, I really didn’t do anything, Allen.” Luther’s tone was utterly irritating. “That’s your own enemy, haven’t you realized that yet?”
Allen frowned. He didn't think he had any 'enemies of his own,' after all, he wasn't one of those psychopaths who wandered around in the dark in tight-fitting clothes.
His past was ordinary and unremarkable:
Growing up methodically in the laboratory, he developed an interest in biomedicine. At Norman Osborn's request, he led an experimental team to develop a cure that could control diseases and prolong life. During this time, many semi-finished products and research byproducts were released to the market, earning a small amount of money. This small amount of money transformed the Osborn Corporation into a leading company in the biotechnology field, gradually moving towards becoming a monopoly. During this period, he casually studied some Kryptonian technology in Luther's possession. He also met Constantine during a kidnapping, and together they killed a group of demons. This sparked his interest in magic, leading him to establish a project to research the genes of angels and demons.
These experiences were utterly unremarkable.
After that, things got even more boring. He injected Norman Old Den with a half-finished drug, punched Old Den when he sat up in bed, and then he went to medical school, ran away from home, and ended up in the Brudhaven emergency room.
...No, wait, there was actually a mysterious figure he hadn't investigated.
Richard Parker.
Inspired by the material conversion formula in the notes left by the other party, he collaborated with Kurt Connors to successfully develop the first generation of drugs.
Apart from the fact that he and Peter were somewhat surprised to find that Richard Parker's secret base was actually an abandoned subway station, nothing too complicated happened in between; in fact, it could be described as smooth sailing.
Although he had sensed something was wrong before, he had no interest in investigating it further, so Peter was the one who did the investigation. Later, when he heard that Peter had asked Spider-Man for help, he became even less interested.
Now the question has come full circle: Did Richard and his wife really die in a plane crash? Why were they able to produce such outstanding scientific results in just one year, yet remained unknown before joining the Osborn Group?
If he remembers correctly, Richard Parker's notes are vague and lack solid experimental data to support his conclusions.
Now it seems that this formula, which was practically offered to us, is highly questionable.
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