Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 300 The Future Rushes Heading Wild in Its Predetermined Direction
P.S.; Second, I'm sorry for the late hour.
"Barry! Barry!"

Iris's voice was urgent and panicked; she was extremely anxious as she looked at Barry, who was lying on the hospital bed, convulsing and twitching.

"Barry's condition has clearly stabilized."

Joe stared blankly at Barry, wanting to do something but unsure what to do. In that instant, fear gripped his heart, and a sense of helplessness spread throughout his body. The veteran detective had dealt with countless vicious criminals and rescued countless citizens from perilous situations, yet he was utterly helpless in the face of this predicament.

Then he saw four straight lines stretched out on the instrument – ​​that was Barry's electrocardiogram.

He couldn't help but think of a terrible future.

Will Barry die?
My son is dying?
"Make way! Make way! Family members, please wait outside!"

A doctor in a white coat rushed into the room, pushed past the stunned Joe, and quickly checked Barry's condition, while the nurses pushed Joe and Iris out of the room.

Iris covered her face and wept through the door. She couldn't accept what was happening before her, so she could only run out of the hospital crying, like a helpless child.

Joe barely managed to stand outside the ward, but he was completely disoriented. He watched as the doctors performed chest compressions on Barry, injected him with adrenaline, and tried everything they could to wake him up.

Before the door closed, he heard the doctor's surprised voice: "This shouldn't be happening. He doesn't even have an electrocardiogram anymore, so how can his body still be reacting?!"

Just then, a man in a wheelchair appeared in the corridor.

"They can't save him."

Joe turned his head to look in the direction the voice came from—it was Dr. Harrison Wells, who had led that particle accelerator experiment.

While his disability in both legs certainly evoked sympathy, the moment Joe saw him, he immediately thought of him as one of the many injured people from that night.

Three weeks had passed by then, and the official second round of statistics had been completed. The death toll from the accident not only included the Ma brothers, but also confirmed that Ronald Raymond, the chief engineer of Star Labs, was among the victims.

Two were guilty, one innocent, and all three perished in the particle accelerator explosion. It wasn't just Joe who distrusted Dr. Wells; in fact, everyone in Central City now distrusted him.

A notorious criminal, that's how everyone sees him now—of course, the authorities didn't actually put him in jail because it was an experimental accident, and Wells himself was one of the victims.

Dr. Wells spoke again at this moment. Even though he was now universally condemned and his experiment had suffered such a crushing defeat, his innate confidence and certainty seemed to be etched into his bones. He said to Joe, "They can't save Barry Allen, but I can."

“I know who you are,” Joe said. “You’re that scientist Barry used to idolize—you destroyed this city.”

“You can call me Harrison Wells.” The doctor did not offer any defense against Joe’s accusations, but continued stating his thoughts: “And now I want to take him to my lab.”

"You're crazy."

“I know you don’t trust me, and I’m not going to try to convince you with any promises—officer, give me a chance.”

“I think we already know your capabilities, Doctor. You hurt countless people that night. We still haven’t been able to count all the victims, but one thing is for sure, I don’t want to give you that chance.”

"You think my abilities are limited?" Wells asked calmly. "What about the doctors in the ward? Are they capable enough? Are they the best doctors in the city? Or the best in the country?"

Joe was speechless. His salary was fixed; he couldn't afford to provide Barry with a better medical environment. "Look at these people inside," Wells said, glancing at the doctors through the door. "They know nothing about the situation, they have no clue what to do. Everything that happened to Barry is a mystery to them, and they have no way to solve it."

"Can you solve this?"

"Of course I can."

When Wells said this, there was no particular expression on his face; he seemed to be simply stating a fact, and he truly believed it to be a fact: "Thousands upon thousands of people in the city, the country, and even the world have followed my laboratory on television, in newspapers, online, and in academic journals. It was under the spotlight—what do you think they saw?"

Joe remained silent and did not answer.

“They saw the future, Detective,” Wells continued. “Star Labs is one of the top labs in the city, the nation, and even the world, and I was its founder.”

"And now, sir—please allow me to use the cutting-edge technology in the laboratory and my professional skills to guarantee—your son will definitely have a future."

“Detective,” Wells looked into Joe’s eyes, “let me save him.”

Joe still didn't answer. He was thinking about what Wells had said, and then he subconsciously looked at the doctors in the ward.

Adrenaline, defibrillator, chest compressions, and then another defibrillator. They seemed to have used every available first aid method, but Barry remained unconscious, and the four lines on the monitor showed no fluctuation.

“Barry can’t die like this,” Joe thought to himself. “I can’t let my son die like this.”

Moreover, Barry was not only his son.

Joe remembered his old friend Henry Allen, who had entrusted his son Barry to him before going to prison, and who had always treated Barry as his own son over the years.

He then looked at Wells beside him.

"Please save him, Doctor."

Ma Zhaodi set up his stall as usual today.

Although it was the usual routine, it was still a little different from usual, because the hungry children were crying and wailing all day long, and Ma Zhaodi received pleas for food every day, such as "Brother, sell more," which later turned into "Hey, sell more."

Seeing that his seniority was about to spiral out of control, he finally decided to slightly improve his cooking skills—which would give him an epic boost in cooking efficiency and speed.

Master-level culinary skills

Price: $120,000
Note: Want to make dishes that glow? You're very close; you just need to spend a little more money.

After briefly browsing the system's online store and confirming that "adding a little more money" meant six hundred thousand US dollars, Ma Zhaodi immediately felt a bit tempted.

"This price could buy a powerful Earthly Fiend Technique. Do you think that's fair?"

When a skill is honed to the point of near-divine perfection, the skill itself becomes almost divine—and please note that the pricing in the store is determined not only by the item's strength but also by a comprehensive consideration of its practicality.

(End of this chapter)