Chapter 132: A Guest from Kamar-Taj

After sleeping for less than six hours, Tony got up, donned the Mark III armor, and returned to Los Angeles.

Half an hour later, Fitz rushed to the airport with a mountain of luggage. The others, of course, could not sit idle; under Old Wong’s supervision, they cleaned the facility to make room for new equipment. Skye, having calmed down, finalized an agreement with a major Eastern construction firm. With the funding in place, the project team and construction crew were quickly deployed, beginning a tense and rapid building process.

There is a saying that when compatriots meet in a foreign land, their eyes fill with tears. While it did not go quite that far, Old Wong was delighted to see familiar faces. He promised that as long as the work was completed within the deadline, everyone would receive a generous bonus, roughly equivalent to half a year’s salary.

The entire construction period was set for three months. As long as the money is right, neither speed nor quality is an issue. The diligence and wisdom of the people are plain for all to see; the pace of construction left Eli and Lucy astonished. Old Wong’s requirements were exacting and the total floor area was vast. This was by no means a small laboratory; it was a massive facility comparable to a national laboratory, or perhaps, a corporation.

The prototype of the "Azeroth Group" had emerged. Skye promptly registered the company, with its headquarters in New York—at that tiny grocery store. This location served as a branch. The name was no longer "Darkhold Laboratory," but "Azeroth Laboratory," a simple and unpretentious title. Each building functioned as an independent lab, such as the "Physics Engineering Laboratory" overseen by Fitz, and the "Biochemistry Laboratory" managed by Simmons.

Recruitment efforts targeting society, universities, and various sectors, assisted by Fitz and the others, proceeded smoothly. This is a commercial society; higher wages represent stronger competitiveness, not to mention that what Old Wong lacked the least were the very research topics scientists valued most. In just half a month, a wave of scientists, masters, and doctoral candidates began to flock in.

Although the working conditions were somewhat lacking and the secrecy requirements were extreme, the excellent compensation and prospects left these high-tech talents satisfied—especially after they heard that their boss had a deep connection with Mr. Stark.

Of course, for Old Wong, the most exciting development was the ever-rising stock price of Stark Industries. Tony officially announced that Stark Industries would become the world’s largest clean energy company, providing inexpensive, stable, and comprehensive clean energy to Los Angeles and over 300 cities across more than 20 countries, with plans to relocate the headquarters to New York. A new "Stark Tower," ranked among the top ten tallest buildings in New York, was about to begin construction. Old Wong seized the opportunity to recommend his diligent and reliable compatriots for the project.

Fitz reported the progress to Old Wong punctually every day. Tony’s ability was beyond doubt, and Fitz’s practical skills were also formidable. Working alongside Tony, he learned something new every day; a casual remark from the other man could provide insights no one else could offer—though most of it was just Tony’s meaningless chatter. In this process, hearing the bits of knowledge about the Darkhold that Fitz let slip, intentionally or otherwise, Tony became increasingly intrigued.

He was ready to jump into the pit Old Wong had dug for him at any moment.

Days turned into weeks. The two worked in perfect harmony, and with the help of J.A.R.V.I.S., they quickly assembled the purchased and custom-made parts. A full set of high-end equipment finally took shape. After a simple test, the entire suite was loaded onto Tony’s private jet and flown to San Juan.

Complex and delicate equipment is often difficult to install. Lucy and the others were purely theoretical; otherwise, they would not have risked leaking secrets to have Eli build a quantum battery in the first place. In this situation, they could only watch from the sidelines before being shooed away by Old Wong to research frameworks and quantum brains, squeezing out every bit of their remaining value.

Tony was a busy man of high standing; as the chairman of Stark Industries, he could hardly be expected to come over and work as a technician. This equipment could only be installed by Fitz, with Eli assisting. It took a full half-day to complete. The entire set of gear occupied a massive room, and only a very select few were permitted to enter.

For instance, the scientists.
For instance, the test subjects.

"Matt, go bring Whitehall here!" At Old Wong’s command, Daredevil promptly complied.

"Whitehall, the time has come to prove your worth."

Whitehall, who was barely recognizable as human, had spent a month in "bliss" under Skye’s "meticulous care." He had been through hell and back every day. Even in his madness, it was difficult to endure; he had lost count of how many times he had fainted from pain or woken up in agony. Scientists rarely commit suicide; their obsession with science makes them cherish life more than most. But Whitehall just wanted to die now. He woke up in the middle of the night so many times, wishing he were in hell instead of the world of the living, enjoying Satan’s whip rather than Skye’s vibrations. He knew he couldn't go to heaven, but even hell would be better than this.

Skye carried the bloodline of her ancestors; when it came to techniques of torture, who could compare to those bored, ancient forebears? This was their legacy. His mangled body was strapped to the testing table with leather belts and ropes. A steady flow of nutrient solution and saline dripped into his veins, ensuring that this prominent figure of HYDRA, who had been on a hunger strike, couldn't die even if he wanted to. A helmet was fitted to his head, and countless probes and electrodes were attached to or pierced his skin, allowing weak currents of varying frequencies and intensities to flow in and out.

Amidst constant twitching and moaning, the brain mapping began. On a dozen instrument screens, flickering light points and agitated waves danced, and a beautiful, three-dimensional image of a brain slowly illuminated.

"Uh, this might take some time," Fitz explained, gesturing as he spoke. "Everyone’s brain is different, as is the volume of their memories. The older one is, the larger the memory volume usually is, and the more complex the relevant areas of the cerebral cortex become, making the mapping much harder. Whitehall has lived for nearly ninety years; his mapping will be much more difficult than a young person’s. Plus, there are dozens of other influencing factors..."

"Just give me a time frame," Old Wong interrupted.

"Uh... alright, one day at most." Fitz held up a finger and shook it.

"That’s fine."

Only one day. That wasn't too long. The Winter Soldier, having spent most of his time in cryo-sleep, should have fewer memories than Whitehall. However, the five fingers of the Hand had each lived for over a thousand years; their memory volume was far beyond what Whitehall could compare to. If they did them one by one, wouldn't it take nearly two months?

"Get a few more sets," Old Wong estimated, then said, "At least five sets."

"Actually, that’s not necessary." Fitz suddenly remembered something. He picked up a helmet from the side and said, "The equipment has 16 input ports. It can support the brain mapping of 16 people simultaneously. You just need to put the helmets on."

Old Wong: "..."

Are all scientists like this? Either big-headed narcissists like Tony, or passive, tight-lipped wallflowers like you? Or perhaps exhibitionists like Dr. Banner, who runs around in torn trousers?

"Bring the Winter Soldier and the five fingers here. Map them all at once and upload simultaneously," Old Wong ordered.

Suddenly, he paused, taken aback. His Pandaren intuition told him that another crisis was descending. His own powerful spirit sensed a shift in space immediately. It was a spatial fluctuation similar to a teleportation spell; someone was crossing through space to arrive.

Old Wong, sensing something, turned his gaze toward a spot ten meters away. A golden circular portal appeared, and a dozen people stepped out from within.