Marvel's Shendu: Dominating the Multiverse

Chapter 172 The Chip Is Controlling You

Day 17.

A white van had been parked motionless for three days downstairs in Octavius's apartment building. It belonged to the dry cleaner across the street, but the owner was away on a business trip. On the morning of the fourth day, the van was pushed from its parking space into the middle of the road. It was parked longitudinally, the doors open, the key in the ignition but not started. It blocked two lanes. The morning rush hour traffic was backed up four blocks out of 63rd Street.

When the police arrived, there was no one around the bread truck. Surveillance footage showed that at 4:12 AM, a man in a plaid shirt walked to the truck, used a metal wire to unlock the door, which took nine seconds. He then got into the driver's seat, released the handbrake, and pushed the truck to the middle of the road. He got out and walked away without looking back.

This isn't a big deal. It won't be a criminal case, and at most it'll be considered obstruction of traffic in a civil matter. The dry cleaner owner came back, cursed a few times, drove off, and didn't pursue the matter further.

Parker saw the news notification in the school library. He was wearing a plaid shirt. He sat on a chair for a few seconds, picked up his phone, and left the library.

Send a message to that number: "He's started."

No reply.

Parker then texted: "Are you there?"

still none.

Day 19.

Outside the 107th Public School in Queens, at 3:30 PM dismissal time, a dark blue sedan was parked next to a fire hydrant, engine still running. Octavius ​​sat in the driver's seat, window half-open. He held something about the size of a remote control, pointing it towards the school.

When Parker received the message, he was chasing a purse snatcher in Brooklyn. The source was Karen's surveillance panel, which automatically recognized Octavius's facial features and marked him as a high priority. Parker used spider silk to attach the purse snatcher to a fire escape ladder and turned to run towards Queens.

When he arrived, Octavius ​​had already gotten off the bus.

The remote-controlled device was a modified shortwave transmitter. Parker detected the signal two blocks away; the frequency was very low, between fifteen and twenty hertz.

At the school gate, three children were squatting on the ground, covering their ears and crying. The teacher was calling their parents, assuming it was some kind of contagious earache. No one noticed the car parked by the roadside.

Octavius ​​stood beside the car, watching the children. His posture was relaxed, his left hand hanging at his sides, his right hand turning off the transmitter and putting it in his coat pocket. He opened the car door, ready to get in.

Parker landed three meters behind him.

"PhD."

Octavius ​​stopped, but didn't turn around.

"It's not appropriate for you to come out dressed like that," he said, his voice flat, stating a fact. "It's after school."

There were many parents.

Parker didn't move. "What's that thing in your hand?"

"Teaching tools. Demonstration of the physical properties of infrasound. I'm preparing my lesson."

"You've already taken sick leave."

"So I prepared my lessons at home. I came out to test the waters." Octavius ​​turned around. His face didn't look much different, maybe a little thinner, but his cheekbones were more defined than before. His eyes were normal. Parker couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong, but he had a feeling when he looked at people that those eyes were processing information, calculating.

"Those children—"

"It's alright. Fifteen hertz won't cause permanent damage. At most, you'll feel dizzy and nauseous, which will subside on its own within thirty minutes. I've controlled the power."

When Parker heard him say, "I controlled the power," a chill ran down his spine from his tailbone to the back of his head. It wasn't spider-sense. It was something else. It was the instinctive human reaction of a student hearing their teacher describe, with precise parameters, how to use sonic weapons on children.

"Doctor, can you hear what you're saying?"

"I heard it. I heard it very clearly."

"You're using infrasound on a child."

"Testing. Not using. There's a difference."

Parker took a step forward. Octavius ​​neither retreated nor made any defensive shift. He was assessing Parker.

"You need help," Parker said.

"I'm fine. You can ask my attending physician for the follow-up test results."

"I'm not talking about your body. That thing in your head—"

Octavius's expression changed for the first time. It was slight; the muscles at the corner of his mouth twitched—not a smile, but some kind of suppressed reaction. "Parker, do you know what your problem is? You're seventeen, and you think everything should be taken care of, everyone should be saved. That's fine. Really. But you've got one premise wrong."

"What are the prerequisites?"

"I don't need to be saved."

He got into the car. Parker stood there, watching the dark blue sedan drive into the traffic. Proceed at the legal speed, turn on the lights when necessary, and yield when required.

Thirty meters away, behind a roadside tree, there was nothing. From any angle, whether viewed with the naked eye or by surveillance...

Controls were on; at that location, there were only tree trunks and a sidewalk. The serpent charm's invisibility effect wasn't optical camouflage or refraction deception; it was the very act of erasing its existence from the level of perception.

The person in that position watched the whole thing.

He received a message from Parker six minutes later: "He's experimenting on kids. What are you waiting for?"

He replied: "Wait until he does something irreversible."

Parker's reply took a long time: "It will be too late once he does something irreversible."

"It won't be too late."

Parker did not return.

Day 21.

It was 2 a.m. on the lower lane of the Manhattan Bridge. Octavius ​​parked a rented van in the middle of the bridge.

The things he took out of the back compartment prompted a passing taxi driver to call 911.

Six sets of industrial-grade electromagnets, each weighing twenty kilograms, were bolted to the steel structure of the bridge railing, spaced twelve meters apart. The power cord was connected to the truck's generator. The magnetic field strength of these electromagnets was sufficient to interfere with the electronic systems of all vehicles within a fifty-meter radius. ABS, ESP, and onboard computers all malfunctioned.

At 2 a.m., there were still a few vehicles on the lower lanes of the Manhattan Bridge in both directions.

He orchestrated a technically perfect multi-vehicle pileup.

When Parker arrived, the first set of electromagnets was already energized. The dashboard of an SUV was completely black, and the driver was cursing behind the steering wheel.

"Doctor!" Parker shouted down from the steel cable hanging from the bridge tower.

Octavius ​​was connecting the power cord to the second set of electromagnets. He glanced up. "You're four minutes faster than I expected. You used the Seventh Avenue route?"

"Turn it off."

"No."

Parker jumped down. He could dismantle all the electromagnets in three seconds. The tension of the spider silk was sufficient. But Octavius ​​was standing next to the railing, with the edge of the bridge behind him. The railing only reached his waist. Any sudden movement by Parker could push him off.

Octavis knew this.

“Look, Parker,” he said, his hands still on the wiring, his movements as steady as a routine lab procedure. “You’re facing a choice. A, remove the electromagnet, I might fall. B, grab me first, the electromagnet keeps working, more cars go out of control. C, stand there. You’ll choose C. Because you always choose C.”

"You're not that kind of person."

"The person you're talking about died three weeks ago when their spine was broken." Octavius's hand paused, not out of hesitation, but as he checked the interface. "Or even earlier. The day the chip was implanted? The day they first heard a voice? It doesn't matter. The result is the same."