My account held 550 OP. I had about ten hours in reserve while the fatigue pills worked. At my disposal, I had the most advanced engineering laboratory on the planet. My task was to farm as much OP as possible without revealing anything extraordinary.
What were my options? I could create simple, but elegant, devices. I could create things that would be useful in various situations, things that weren't from the distant future, and things that would convince S.H.I.E.L.D. to cooperate. That clause in the contract, the one about the full transfer of my technologies after my death, was still bothering me. It meant that I needed to show them that I was far more valuable alive than my posthumous intellectual property ever could be.
There were many ideas. To accelerate the process, I started small. I started with a pistol. Why? Because I had a Glock-17 that I had never used. I wouldn't just create a pistol. I would create the best version of a Glock. I would create a weapons platform. It would have a unified titanium frame with interchangeable kits for different calibers. In the grip, there would be a microcomputer that was synchronized with a smart collimator sight. This would allow it to make real-time corrections, accounting for distance, wind, and hand tremor.
The process began. I machined the frame and slide assemblies with micron precision on the 5-axis CNC machine. I printed the complex internal mechanisms and the customized grips on the metal 3D printer. I assembled the electronics for the smart sight at the robotic station with a jeweler's precision. I wrote the firmware for the sight.
[Weapon "Tactical Pistol" created. Complexity: Low. Received +150 OP!]
A high-precision, modular pistol that was built on a unified titanium alloy frame. It allowed for a rapid caliber change. An integrated ballistic coprocessor provided firing with unparalleled accuracy.
That was the first +150 OP in the piggy bank. I assembled several copies of it in order to maximize my profit, and then I proceeded. Next up was a defense item. I would create a compact, deployable ballistic shield.
On paper, it was simple. It was a bracer that, at the press of a button, would unfold into six interconnected composite plates. These would form a light, bulletproof shield for the torso. In practice, I struggled in the holographic CAD system while I was designing the complex deployment mechanism. Once I had solved that, the mechanism was printed, and the plates were cut on the waterjet cutter.
[Protective construction "Compact Shield-Bracer" created. Complexity: Low. Received +150 OP!]
A compact protective system in the form of a bracer. When activated, it deployed into a segmented ballistic shield that was capable of stopping several pistol bullets.
Third, I worked on medicine. I had my priceless Ash and Dawn potions, but spending one of them on an ordinary bullet wound would be wasteful. So, I created a field medical stapler.
It was a pistol-sized device for emergency aid. You would apply it to a wound and, with one press, it would "stitch" the wound closed with staples that were made from an absorbable surgical polymer. At the same time, it would inject an antiseptic. I printed the ergonomic body and the feed mechanism on the polymer 3D printer. I created a small injection mold for the sterile staples.
[Medical device "Field Medical Stapler" created. Complexity: Low. Received +150 OP!]
A portable medical device for providing emergency aid in cases of external injuries. It quickly and sterilely closed a wound, stopping bleeding and preventing infection until qualified help could arrive.
Excellent. I had a tactical pistol, a compact shield, and an emergency medical device. Each of them could interest S.H.I.E.L.D. I would foist the stapler off onto Gwen and Peter, and I could possibly rework it later.
I looked at the table where the fruits of my labor in the lab were lying. It was a soldier's kit from the near future. But something was missing. I needed glasses. My Chimera mask was magnificent, but its eyepieces were simple ballistic lenses. Visual information was the key to tactical superiority. I decided to make some tactical glasses.
The concept was for a light, tactical frame with lenses that could withstand fragments. It would project information from a laser rangefinder and a ballistic calculator, showing the precise point of bullet impact. It would have the capability to synchronize with my pistol's smart sight.
The process went smoothly. The frame was printed on an SLS printer. The lenses were cut from ballistic polycarbonate. The miniature projector and sensor system were assembled and integrated into the frame.
[Device "Combat Tactical Glasses" created. Complexity: Low. Received +150 OP!]
Tactical glasses with ballistic lenses and an integrated HUD. They calculated the bullet's trajectory in real time, synchronizing with smart weapons.
When Gwen entered the laboratory, distracting me from creating the second copy of the glasses, the clock showed that it was one in the afternoon. I glanced at my OP counter. I only had 1800 total. I had been working for a night and half of a day, continuously. It was a catastrophically small amount for unlocking full Technomancy.
"John, don't you think that we should talk with Peter?" she began, explaining her visit.
"I do." I nodded, not taking my gaze away from the dancing laser in the SLS printer's chamber. "With Peter, we need to discuss too many things. The sooner, the better."
"At the very least, you should notify him about where we are. You told him about S.H.I.E.L.D., so he should be mentally prepared for this."
"Yeah, drag Peter to a Base where every centimeter is bugged and every word is analyzed." I shook my head. "With us, everything is clear, Gwen. We're valuable assets. As long as we don't cross the line, we're in relative safety. But he, even though he's a genius, is a civilian. One extra word, one careless hint about the secrets that he knows, and he'll disappear into a very deep and very dark hole. We'll never see him again."
"But leaving the Base, especially for you, is impossible. You're being hunted by literally everyone who isn't lazy." she objected.
"It's a dilemma." I admitted. "I'm hoping that, after last night, my value in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s eyes has risen a bit. Hopefully, enough that I can count on a small concession." I took out the service smartphone and selected Fury's contact.
"You can." was the first thing that Fury said when the connection was established. There was no "hello."
"You scare me shitless sometimes, Nick." I commented.
"You need a private conversation with Parker, one without excessive interest from our side." he said.
"Right."
"Tell Parker to be ready. My people will be at his door in ten minutes." Fury ended the call.
As I dialed Peter on my personal phone, I felt vulnerable. In my head, I created a new task for myself. I needed to secure communication devices with fully encrypted channels. Stark had JARVIS and better protection. I was just shouting into a megaphone. After a couple of anxious rings, I heard my friend's voice.
"John?" His voice was a mixture of relief and resentment.
"Pete, listen to me carefully. In ten minutes, a car will arrive at your place. Some agents will ask you to go with them. Please, don't argue, don't play the hero, and just agree to it. This is necessary for our personal meeting."
"Agree? John, are you in your right mind?" Peter exploded. "Get into a car with some not-at-all-suspicious tough guys? After some psycho broke into my home and kidnapped me, my uncle, and my aunt? What the hell was that, anyway? Where did you disappear to? I thought that something had happened to you."
His voice carried a concern and a steel that had been born from his fear for his loved ones. I understood him. It was one thing when Kraven kidnapped you. It was another thing entirely when he touched your family.
"This is one of those questions that we'll discuss face to face. I promise you that. But right now, Pete, I assure you that neither you nor your relatives are in any danger. These people are my allies. They'll deliver you to me. They'll deliver you to a safe place."
"Okay..." He exhaled heavily. "I'll go with them. But swear to me that you'll explain everything to me. I mean every single detail."
"I will, and more than that. This conversation is going to change everything. It will divide your life into a 'before' and an 'after'." I said, and then I hung up.
"The last part was a bit cruel." Gwen noted.
"But it's the truth." I shrugged, returning to my work on the second pair of glasses. "His former life ended the moment that he became Kraven's target. I'm just letting his brain work at its full capacity. It'll be easier for him to accept what I'm going to tell him."
Meanwhile, the second pair of glasses was created, and another +100 OP fell into my balance. The total amount was now 1900. I only had 2100 left to go until I could unlock Technomancy.
"You're a self-taught manipulator." Gwen grumbled, but there was no malice in it.
"And an abuser, a narcissist, a gaslighter, and a Starlighter." I added with a smile.
"Is that the same guy who changes his occupation a hundred times a day, who never sits still, and who seems to not sleep at all?"
"You got me." I appreciated the jab.
I went through the disinfection process, I exited the laboratory, and I went to my familiar room. For a couple of minutes, I lay on the bed, looking at the sterile ceiling and building the structure of the upcoming conversation. This wasn't a plan. It was a minefield map. Predicting Peter's reaction to the truth about Mary Jane was going to be impossible. This was going to be a bifurcation point. I decided to start with the most painful part. I would pull the splinter out with one, sharp movement. How he handled that, well, I would dance from there.
Knock-knock. Someone knocked. A short message arrived on the service phone. It read, "Parker is on the Base." I left the room and I saw an agent standing next to Gwen. The three of us moved deeper into the complex, heading toward the room that Fury had allocated, the one that was free of bugs. I didn't doubt that they would keep their word. I had a living surveillance detector in Gwen, and her heightened sense was more reliable than any electronics.
As we walked through the echoing corridors, I analyzed another problem. It was Natasha's absence. She was Fury's inner circle operative. She was my curator. After Elena's death, she had disappeared. Was she busy with revenge? That was unlikely. Fury wouldn't allow her to act on her emotions. It was more likely that the Soviets were hunting traitors. Fury wouldn't hide his best operative without a good reason. Somewhere out there, another Black Widow was operating. This was a problem because my knowledge of Soviet superhumans was scarce. There was the Winter Guard, the Red Room, the Crimson Dynamo, and that was about it.
Even so, the Soviets weren't specifically hunting me. Not yet, anyway. And that was the key word, "yet." The probability that the mysterious sniper had already compiled a report on me was practically one hundred percent.
I mentally recounted my enemies. There was the CIA. There was Hydra. There was potentially the entire Soviet bloc. And there was Fisk, who, after Blade's departure, was certainly not being idle. In less than a month, I had collected a whole bouquet of problems. I was an alternatively gifted isekai protagonist. My knowledge and intellect were present, but my wisdom and my ability to not make enemies were at zero.
We reached the negotiation room. The agent opened the heavy, soundproof door. Inside, sitting at a simple table, was Peter. He was as tense as a bowstring, and in his eyes, I could read a mixture of fear, curiosity, and a stubborn determination.
The agent closed the door. The sound of the lock clicking was deafening in the silence. There were only three of us remaining.
Well. Let the "Naruto-therapy" begin.
//==============//
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