Cross-species genetic transfer technology.
At its core, it was deceptively simple—taking the genetic traits of one organism and integrating them into another, ensuring those traits functioned seamlessly.
For instance, humans couldn't breathe underwater. But if the genetic structure responsible for a fish's gills could be successfully integrated into the human body, then underwater respiration would no longer be impossible.
And that—
Was merely the most basic application.
Peter himself was living proof of its potential.
After being bitten by a spider, he had gained enhanced abilities across the board—spider-sense, superhuman strength, heightened senses, accelerated healing… all of these were, in essence, derivatives of that same principle.
Which meant—
Given enough time and sufficient technological refinement, it would be entirely possible to create a being that combined the most exceptional traits of every organism on Earth.
A perfect human.
The near-indestructible resilience of tardigrades.
The dual-core brain structure of dolphins.
The raw strength of rhinoceros beetles.
The explosive jumping power of fleas.
The adaptive camouflage of chameleons.
The infrared sensing of snakes.
Compared to the rest of the natural world, human physical capabilities were, frankly, unremarkable. Most species, if scaled to human size, could easily overpower humanity in sheer physical terms.
But now—
Peter held the key.
A key capable of unlocking the gates to something far beyond humanity.
A god.
Or at least—
A being approaching one.
In theory, this technology could even elevate humanity itself—rewrite the genetic code of the entire species and push it toward something akin to divinity.
Of course, true gods were far more than flesh and DNA. Altering genes alone wouldn't recreate divinity in its purest form.
But still—
It was a step frighteningly close.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
Peter's voice cut through the air, calm but edged with impatience.
"Listen, Tony. I came here because you said there was a big deal to discuss. And while I haven't seen your medical reports, that thing in your chest tells me this trip could make me a lot of money."
He leaned back slightly, gaze sharp.
"But that doesn't mean my time is worthless enough to sit here listening to nonsense."
Tony didn't look offended.
If anything, he seemed unsurprised.
Honestly, if their positions were reversed, he might have been even more arrogant.
The difference was—
At eighteen, Tony Stark hadn't achieved anything close to this.
"Hey, no need to be so hostile," Tony said with a casual shrug. "Yes, I need your regenerative serum. But it's not urgent."
He spread his hands, as if everything was perfectly under control.
"I'm doing just fine. I can wait until your product officially hits the market. I'm sure the price will be… reasonable by then."
Peter didn't respond immediately.
He didn't need to.
Even without relying on his telekinetic perception, Tony's condition was obvious.
His body was already on the brink.
At this rate, heavy metal poisoning would kill him within a month.
Tony's bravado was transparent.
And Peter treated it accordingly—with indifference.
"If you're not in a hurry," Peter said lightly, turning his head toward Felicia, "then I think we're done here."
Felicia understood instantly. She reached for her handbag, preparing to stand.
"Hey—at least stay for the race?" Tony interjected quickly, flashing a look before rising to his feet. "Come on, let's talk somewhere quieter."
There were too many people around. Too many ears.
Some conversations weren't meant for an audience.
"As for the serum," Tony added under his breath, "Pepper can handle that."
He might pretend not to care—
But he wasn't foolish enough to gamble his life.
"I have no interest in car races," Peter said flatly as they stepped onto a secluded balcony. His telekinetic senses spread outward like liquid metal, sweeping the surroundings for any trace of surveillance before he continued.
"Vehicles are tools humanity will eventually abandon—like stone axes and bows."
Tony let out a short laugh.
"You really don't sound like an eighteen-year-old. This kind of adrenaline rush, and you're not even interested?"
"Adrenaline spikes are one thing," Peter replied calmly. "But your armor can outrun an F-22."
Tony's expression stiffened for a split second.
"…Well, yeah, obviously the suit's faster," he said quickly, forcing a grin. "But flying and driving—different experiences, you know? Totally different."
…
In truth—
Flying in the suit was far more exhilarating.
But it also accelerated the very thing that was killing him.
He might be reckless, but he wasn't suicidal.
Not wanting to dwell on that topic, Tony shifted gears.
Straight to the point.
"I think we should work together."
No pretense. No detours.
Just a direct proposal.
The potential of cross-species genetic technology was too immense to ignore. Even someone like Tony Stark—who had access to unimaginable wealth—couldn't help but covet it.
He might not want to remain a weapons manufacturer forever.
But that didn't mean he had any intention of giving up profit.
From Tony's perspective, cooperation wasn't just beneficial—it was necessary.
This was a globalized world.
No corporation, no matter how powerful, could truly stand alone.
Even giants like Microsoft and Apple were interdependent.
Software without hardware was meaningless.
And hardware without software?
Equally useless.
The same logic applied here.
Tony met Peter's gaze, his tone sharpening.
"No one builds the future alone."
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T/N:
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