Chapter 17 Department of Arms Research and Development

Lying in bed, Thea knew that her mother was somewhat dissatisfied with her decision, but she never said anything about it. However, she had no idea how dangerous the world truly was or how many times she had found herself waking up in her dreams.

Judging by the summary of information from all sides, the two giants, Superman and Batman, had fought several times. What does the official statement mean? It indicates that Superman is already in the Dark Iron or Postmodern period. Otherwise, no matter how great Batman is, there would be no possibility of a win-lose outcome.

Look at Superman in the Silver Age, and you'll understand: he could blow up stars with a single punch and destroy the solar system with a sneeze. With his own power, he could pull dozens of planets and even his own mother.

Does the introduction above sound familiar? These are the kinds of powers protagonists have in the final chapters of a fantasy novel. Superman is already at that level the moment he steps in. Are you afraid of that?

In reality, Thea wasn't afraid of Superman being too strong—she was afraid of him being too weak. If a Silver Age Superman existed to protect Earth, it would definitely lead to world peace. There would be no chance for a villain to rise and fall. It would be great to have a handsome president. What a great time Felicity must have had! Unfortunately, now is the era of demons dancing. If wealth cannot be converted into strength, it will be like a house of cards—collapsing at the slightest touch.

I need to pay more attention to the group's weapons research and development department. There must be equipment I urgently need. Maybe I could even become the Iron Man of the DC universe? Hey, that sounds a bit too optimistic... better keep that to myself. Should I just focus on research and development, or should I bring in some assistants? On a larger scale, I could pull Queen Group into a five-year plan to solve major issues. But even if the research is successful, the military would swallow up the results in one move.

Marvel's Tony Stark even handed over a suit while holding S.H.I.E.L.D. as an umbrella. Besides, he had to study alone, but Tony was a double Ph.D. who entered MIT at 15 and graduated at 18. In a cave, he was already taking down Mark generation masters. I'm also 15, and I haven't even finished high school yet. Ugh… that guy is truly incomparable.

Although the dream of becoming Iron Man is still just a dream, Thea had to focus on her immediate survival—heading to work in the forest the next day. As for graduating high school, Moira had pushed Franklin aside in favor of technical research. Currently, she had achieved excellent results at work and could study in Princeton's Department of Electronic Engineering next year.

Moira strongly supported her daughter attending a prestigious school—at least more than learning to fight and kill more efficiently. Why not focus on bio-pharmaceuticals and other female-oriented specialties instead of choosing engineering? She wasn't surprised that there were so few women studying mechanics in the U.S.

Malcolm was indifferent but still helped smooth out some relationships. After all, learning more is always a good thing. At the same time, he also wondered if his son was an idiot for reading so little. What if I let my son join in and learn? However, after comparing Thea's grades, he gave up on the idea. Tommy's elementary-level knowledge should stay in Star City—no need for him to go out and embarrass himself.

At that moment, Thea had no idea she had caused some trouble for Tommy. She was inspecting the group's weapons research and development department. Or rather, this was called an inspection, though in reality, she was just hanging around.

"Dr. Hoffman, what is that?" Thea asked, pointing at an object resembling Magneto's helmet-belt.

The elderly researchers around her, their hair gray with age, weren't pleased with this young woman wandering around with nothing to do. Ever since Director André had inexplicably disappeared, the entire department had to coordinate its efforts. No one dared to offend the company's future successor.

Now, one of them vaguely replied, "That's a positioning helmet. You can think of it as something like radar."

In reality, the object was nothing like radar, but he was afraid she would keep asking questions, so he came up with a term everyone knew, hoping to mislead her and divert her attention.

"Radar?" Thea was slightly stunned. Looking at that bulky and intriguing device, her first impression was: this has nothing to do with radar—he's just bluffing because he hasn't read enough! She automatically ignored his explanation about radar and focused on her original question. "You said it's a positioning helmet? How does it locate?"

Dr. Hoffman felt a little depressed. He was too honest—if he gave its real name, anyone with basic knowledge could tell something was off. He could only answer truthfully, "It calculates using a probability distribution algorithm."

Thinking to himself: This girl is going to expose me.

Thea had never heard such a sophisticated term before but still asked politely, "Can it detect anything with that?"

The old researcher, tired of the conversation, muttered, "It calculates the surrounding bioelectric field."

The word "bioelectric" immediately triggered Thea's understanding—she had read a few free books on the topic. "Like a shark? Is this a passive bioelectric field positioning method?"

Whoa, the girl's sharp! Aren't kids her age supposed to be out partying and drinking? The old doctor hadn't expected the eldest lady of the group to immediately grasp the core of his research and development. Suddenly, he became more excited to discuss his work.

"Miss Queen, you're absolutely right. We analyzed the predatory behavior of sharks. They are enormous, with severely degraded vision. Over millions of years of evolution, they developed a way to control a special type of bioelectricity, allowing them to sense their surroundings. When they detect a fleeing target, they can track it up to ten kilometers away. We developed this technology based on that characteristic..."

Listening to the old man's explanation, Thea translated it into gaming terms—it was like a hunter's mark. As long as the target was alive, they would always be visible on the map! Advanced technology! Could this invention be used independently?

Seeing Thea's strong interest, the old doctor was delighted. She was the only one among the group's higher-ups who had shown any real concern for their work. After all, his team had spent years conducting research and had produced many results. But making money for the company? That was a joke. At least, he had never seen any of their studies contribute to national production. Every year, he asked for funding but could never provide tangible results. He had always felt guilty toward the group.

"This is underwater lighting equipment. The market models only reach 100 meters, but ours can maintain illumination up to 500 meters."

"This is a miniature missile. There are two types—land and air-based. Although the size has been reduced, so has the range. We've made improvements..."

"This is a rescue device that can be remotely controlled at 400 miles per hour and can transport materials within the time it takes to have a meal."

"And this is…"

As the old doctor continued his explanations, Thea was genuinely impressed. However, many of these inventions had little commercial value. After observing for a while, she realized that while the underwater lights might sell for a few bucks, the target audience was small, meaning they'd only make a modest profit. It would be difficult to recover the investment.