American comics: Only I know the plot

Chapter 151 Gamma Countdown

At first, he thought it was a hallucination, that he was just having a ridiculous dream. But when he put on the lab coat, walked into the laboratory, and saw the familiar instruments, the familiar scenes, and even the gentle and humble Bruce Banner, he had to admit that it was all real.

Li Wei's gaze lingered on the core parameter board in the center of the experimental table. On that black electronic screen, various data for the upcoming live gamma radiation experiment were clearly marked: radiation dose, irradiation time, and energy intensity. Each parameter was so precise that it made his heart sink, exactly matching the parameters of the fatal accident in his memory.

Finally, a chilling conclusion took shape in his mind, like a block of ice pressing down on his heart: only three days remained until Bruce Banner's gamma experiment accident.

This answer struck Li Wei like a massive boulder, leaving him breathless. His chest felt constricted, a dull ache making even breathing difficult.

A tremendous struggle and inner conflict instantly engulfed his entire being. Reason and emotion clashed and tore fiercely in his mind, each confrontation causing immense torment to his nerves, bringing him to the brink of collapse.

Li Wei knew very well what kind of person Bruce Banner was, and the past few days of getting along with him had left a deep impression on him as a top scientist.

Dr. Banner was gentle and humble, and treated people with courtesy. Even when facing an insignificant medical assistant like him, he never showed the slightest arrogance or contempt. Every time they met, he would take the initiative to nod and greet him, and occasionally chat with him about some small things in the experiment, speaking in a friendly tone like an elder.

He was devoted to scientific research, spending almost all his time on gamma ray studies. He often stayed in the laboratory until late at night, his focused figure under the lamplight exuding a pure dedication and unwavering determination. His initial intention was never to create weapons or pursue power, but to use gamma ray research to overcome medical challenges and benefit humanity.

But this pure and kind-hearted doctor is about to fall into an abyss due to an accident.

Li Wei closed his eyes, and the image of the Hulk involuntarily surfaced in his mind—green skin, a massive body, a ferocious face, wreaking havoc when he lost his mind, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. That gentle and refined doctor, after being exposed to excessive gamma radiation, had his cells undergo a terrifying mutation, and from then on, he could no longer control his powers.

He could imagine that the moment the experiment went out of control, blinding gamma rays would erupt in the laboratory, the instruments would be destroyed instantly, radiation would spread, and Dr. Banner would struggle and transform in excruciating pain, eventually becoming the fearsome Hulk.

What awaits him is not the honor and recognition of scientific success, but the military's relentless pursuit and encirclement. General Ross has always coveted the power of gamma rays and wanted to transform them into weapons. Once Banner becomes the Hulk, he will become General Ross's primary target and be regarded as a dangerous "monster."

From then on, Banner would be trapped in a life of wandering and hiding, unable to reveal his identity, unable to have much contact with people, and struggling in the darkness, enduring the pain of losing control of his powers, and suffering the miserable situation of being feared and hated by everyone. He could never return to the laboratory he loved, never continue his scientific research dreams, and even having a normal life became a luxury.

The thought of what that gentle doctor would have to endure in the future made Li Wei's heart feel like it was being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, causing him unbearable pain and his eyes to involuntarily well up with tears.

He wasn't from this world. He could have chosen to stay out of it, simply doing his job as a medical assistant peacefully until the experiment ended, then either leaving the base or going with the flow of the plot and watching everything unfold as scheduled.

But he couldn't do it. In their brief time together, he truly felt Banner's kindness and purity, his dedication and passion for scientific research, and his aspirations for the future. He couldn't stand idly by, nor could he bear to watch a tragedy unfold before his eyes without doing anything.

That feeling of helplessness, like vines, coiled around his heart, tightening more and more, almost suffocating him.

But after the impulse subsided, the cold reality pulled him back to where he started, extinguishing the faint impulse in his heart.

He was just a medical assistant with no background who had only been at the base for a few days. He was of low status and had little influence. In this secret laboratory with strict hierarchy and full control by the military, his voice was negligible, and no one really cared about what he said.

The people in the base were either military personnel or scientists focused on scientific research and blindly obedient to the military. They were all immersed in the joy of the impending completion of the experiment, and no one would believe the "nonsense" of a new medical assistant.

If he rashly stepped forward and tried to stop Banner from conducting the experiment, saying that the experiment would cause a fatal accident and turn the doctor into a mindless monster, he would only be regarded as a mentally deranged madman.

Security personnel would immediately rush up, subdue him, confiscate his passes, and may even interrogate him.

Not to mention preventing this inevitable accident, he himself could instantly fall into an abyss, be regarded as a dangerous element by the military, be imprisoned, or even secretly disposed of, and disappear from this world forever.

What terrified him even more was that the plot of this world seemed to be bound by an invisible force, an irresistible "inertia." He didn't know what unknown plot deviations his intervention would trigger.

Perhaps his intervention will not only fail to change Banner's fate, but will also make things worse. For example, the experiment may happen ahead of schedule, or the radiation may spread to a wider area, harming more innocent people. Or, his actions may attract the attention of General Ross, be targeted by the military, and cause him to lose his freedom, or even implicate more people.

This unknown risk terrified him more than watching tragedy unfold. He couldn't afford to gamble, nor did he dare to. He was not only responsible for himself, but he also didn't want to cause Banner any more trouble because of his recklessness.

Li Wei closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the cold laboratory air, which was mixed with the faint smell of disinfectant and radiation detectors. Inhaling it cleared his muddled mind a little.

He leaned against the cold lab bench, his body sliding slightly down so his shoulder rested against the metal surface. The icy touch made him even calmer. He knew he couldn't take any risks, at least not in such a blatant and foolish way.

But if he chose to remain silent, to go along with the so-called plot development, to stand by and watch, he couldn't forgive himself for standing idly by. Whenever he thought of Banner's gentle smile, of his focused figure on scientific research, he couldn't convince himself to just watch him fall into the abyss.

Two conflicting thoughts clashed repeatedly in his mind: on one hand, reason warned him not to overestimate his abilities and get himself into trouble; on the other hand, his conscience urged him not to give up and to find a way to stop the disaster.

Each confrontation tormented him, causing cold sweat to bead on his forehead, trickle down his temples, and drip onto the collar of his lab coat, soaking a small patch of fabric and bringing a chill.

He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the list of medical supplies beside him. The A4 sheet of paper was neatly folded in the corner of the lab bench, its edges trembling slightly from the cold air in the lab. It listed the names of medicines and medical devices, along with their corresponding quantities and specifications, in printed font.

Li Wei reached out and picked up the list, his fingertips touching the rough texture of the paper. He then lowered his head and pretended to expertly count the medicines and medical equipment listed on it, trying to make himself look no different from the other busy staff.

His gaze lingered on the words on the list, and he silently read out the names of the medications: "Saline solution, iodine, gauze, tourniquet, antibiotics, sedatives —" His voice was very low, only he could hear it, and his tone seemed calm, but there was actually a hint of barely perceptible panic in it.

His fingers lightly traced each line of text on the list, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the surface of the paper repeatedly, leaving faint marks, as if he were carefully checking the quantity, or as if he were trying to hide his inner unease.

But only he knew that his mind was not on the list at all. The words on the list were just blurry symbols to him. His thoughts had already drifted far away, racing through his mind, repeatedly calculating feasible solutions.

He cannot forcibly stop it, cannot issue a direct warning, and cannot reveal that he knows the secret of the future—this is the bottom line. Once it is crossed, the consequences will be unimaginable.

He could only find a tactful and reasonable way to subtly remind Banner of the potential fatal risks of the experiment, so that he would take the initiative to suspend the experiment or adjust the experimental parameters, thereby avoiding this disaster.

But how could he offer a warning? He was just a medical assistant with little interaction with Banner, and it would be suspicious for him to suddenly approach Banner for a talk. Moreover, he couldn't say that he knew the experiment would get out of control, or that he knew what the future held. He could only try to find a reasonable angle from the perspective of "medical safety."

Li Wei's gaze swept across the depths of the laboratory again. Banner was sitting at a desk, staring intently at the experimental data on the computer screen. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his expression was serious and persistent. Occasionally, he would pick up a pen and write something in his notebook. His fingertips tapped rapidly on the keyboard, making a soft "tap-tap" sound.

Sunlight streamed obliquely through the bulletproof glass windows of the laboratory, falling on Banner and casting a soft halo around the gentle doctor, making him appear more amiable. But Levi knew that this amiability would be shattered completely in three days, replaced by endless pain and struggle.

Beside Banner stood his assistant, quietly reporting on the experiment's preparations. Banner nodded occasionally in response, his tone flat, his eyes filled with anticipation for the experiment. He was completely unaware that a deadly crisis was quietly approaching him.

Looking at Banner like this, Levi's inner turmoil intensified, and his guilt and self-blame continued to spread. He knew exactly what would happen in the future, and he clearly had the opportunity to stop it, but due to the limitations of his identity and the obstacles of reality, he could only be helpless and struggle repeatedly in his heart.

He gripped the list tightly, his knuckles turning white again, the paper crumpled under his grip, and even his breathing became heavier. Only one thought echoed and amplified in his mind: he had to find a way, he had to stop this disaster from happening within three days.

Even if the road ahead is full of thorns, even if a slight misstep could lead to disaster, even if the final result may not be satisfactory, he cannot give up, he cannot let that kind and persistent doctor fall into endless darkness.

The instruments in the laboratory emitted a continuous, low hum, monotonous and rhythmic, like a prelude to an impending disaster, or a silent urging of time to pass. The red lights of the surveillance cameras flashed silently in the corner, recording every action in the laboratory, as if monitoring Li Wei's every move.

Li Wei remained head down, checking the supplies, his expression calm and composed, as if he were just an ordinary medical assistant working diligently.

But only he knew that his heart was in turmoil, every nerve taut, every heartbeat a testament to his anxiety and struggle. His mind raced, constantly recalling fragments of memories of their reunion, racking his brains for possible solutions, unwilling to let go of even the slightest hope.

He recalled that Banner's experiment went out of control because of a slight deviation in the experimental parameters, coupled with a minor malfunction in the radiation protection device at the time, which resulted in excessive gamma radiation hitting Banner.

Perhaps he could start here? As a medical assistant, could he remind Banner to pay attention to experimental safety precautions, remind him to double-check experimental parameters, and troubleshoot any malfunctions in the safety equipment?

But he dismissed the idea as soon as it popped into his head. He was just a medical assistant and had no right to interfere with the specific procedures and parameter settings of the experiment. Making a rash suggestion would only make him seem more suspicious, and might even be seen as meddlesome by Banner.

Moreover, he didn't know the specific location of the malfunction in the protective device, nor the exact location of the parameter deviation. If he gave the wrong answer, it would expose his abnormality, with unimaginable consequences.

Li Wei sighed softly, his fingertips still unconsciously tracing patterns on the list, his eyes filled with confusion and anxiety. Three days was far too short, so short that he barely had time to think, so short that he didn't even know where to begin.