Marvel's Venom, starting with a Hydra undercover agent.

Gwen was taken aback when she heard Holm's request; she really hadn't expected Holm to ask her to help with investment and financial management.

Although it was somewhat unexpected, she was still very happy upon reflection, as it represented Holm's trust in her.

Since Holm, as her friend, trusted her so much, she certainly couldn't betray his trust.

Thinking of this, Gwen nodded and smiled, "Okay, I will definitely manage it well for you and help you earn more money."

"By the way, what's this news you mentioned? What's it about?"

Upon hearing Gwen's affirmative answer and her question, Holm took out a bank card from his pocket and handed it to Gwen, then lowered his voice and spoke about the Stark Group's stock price.

In general, Stark Industries' stock price will first plummet due to Tony Stark's disappearance, and then surge to its daily limit due to the group's actions and his return.

After hitting the daily limit, it will experience an even more severe plunge due to the press conference following Tony Stark's return, before slowly recovering.

Holm couldn't go into too much detail, but he could tell Gwen a few key points. First, the current stock price decline would rebound after Tony Stark's return in a while. Second, the stock price would fall even more sharply again shortly after Tony Stark's return.

Knowing just these two pieces of information is enough for Gwen to make a fortune by exploiting this information gap.

After listening to Holm's explanation, Gwen understood what Holm meant and guessed that Holm's special identity was the reason he was able to find out about this information in advance.

She didn't ask any further questions about the specifics, since it was Holm's own secret, and she should respect that.

“If these reports are true, then we should be able to make a lot of money just by trading Stark Industries’ stock price,” Gwen said thoughtfully, tapping her slender fingers on the table.

However, she quickly realized that she seemed to have overlooked something. If Holm wanted to make money from this information, how much money did he have prepared?

If it really is the allowance he mentioned, then it doesn't seem to match the importance of this news.

Thinking of this, she looked up at Holm, who was happily drinking his cola, and asked, "So how much money is in this card? Are you sure it's your allowance?"

Upon hearing Gwen's question, Holm put down his drink, thought about his earnings from his several Robin Hood-like exploits, and replied, "About 230 million..."

"Clatter!" Upon hearing Holm's reply, Gwen's bank card fell onto the table, her beautiful blue eyes filled with shock and confusion.

She felt that Holm was joking with her; how could anyone say $230 million was pocket money?

If this counts as pocket money, then what about her savings?

Chapter 75, Identifying Venomous Snakes

In the Imperial University's lecture hall, students were walking in from the doorway in twos and threes.

There's not much time left before class starts, and those who arrive at this time are generally not particularly studious.

Because the lecture hall is very large, some students who love learning and have excellent grades will enter the classroom early to occupy a good position in the front row with a good view, such as Gwen who is currently sitting in the third row on the left.

At this moment, there was a laptop in front of her, with red and green lines indicating the stock market trend for the day.

On the chart of Stark Industries' stock price, their recent trend is almost blindingly red. (In the US, red indicates decline and green indicates rise, the opposite of China. The author isn't particularly knowledgeable about this, so just take it with a grain of salt and don't nitpick.)

Although Tony Stark is often the subject of gossip and ridicule, it is undeniable that this playboy is indeed very talented and a pillar of the Stark Group.

The disappearance of this pillar, coupled with the fact that Stark Industries has been unable to provide a clear answer for so many days, has led to a continuous decline in public confidence in Stark Industries, and their stock price has begun to fall accordingly.

Although Stark Industries has rushed to launch a public relations campaign and released a lot of positive news, the public remains uneasy about Tony Stark's continued absence, and their stock price continues to fall.

"Based on what Holm said and the current situation, Stark Industries' stock price hasn't hit its lowest point yet, but it shouldn't be far off..." Gwen thought to herself as she looked at the chart and Stark Industries' recent actions.

Since receiving the card from Holm two days ago, Gwen has been focusing her spare time on studying the Stark Group.

Although she was confident in her financial acumen, and with the help of information provided by Holm, it was still $230 million, and Gwen dared not be careless at all.

Every time Gwen thought of this, she felt that Holm's gentle, smiling face in her mind became somewhat hateful.

She made such a big promise because it was supposed to be pocket money, and even said she would definitely help him make money. But in the end, she found out that the so-called pocket money was $230 million.

Although both involve making money, the pressure she faces is vastly different, just as the number of trees is worlds apart from the two trees themselves.

"That bastard, I can never trust his smile again." Gwen thought to herself as she furiously pounded on the keyboard, completely unaware that someone was calling her name beside her.

It wasn't until the girl next to her touched her arm that she realized that class had started sometime earlier.

The instructor of the class, Professor Otto Octavius, said he was calling her name from a list.

“Gwen Stacy? Isn’t she here?” Otto Octavius ​​adjusted his glasses and looked at the full seats below.

"Was it because they arrived too late and there were no seats, so they had to stand in the aisle?"

Seeing that no one answered, Otto Octavius ​​cracked a small joke to lighten the mood.

Upon hearing his words, the students sitting below laughed, especially those who had no seats and were standing at the back or sitting on the stairs.

Aside from a few students who don't like studying, no one would skip Professor Otto Octavius's class. After all, he is renowned in the field of scientific research, one of the Imperial University's most famous and prestigious professors, and a very famous scientist.

His classes are always packed, and sometimes even the aisles are full of people when the classroom is too small.

“Gwen Stacy, are you sure this student isn’t here?” Otto Octavius ​​called out again, holding the list.

He remembered this student; he thought he should be a very outstanding person. Why would he skip class?

Just as he was wondering, Gwen, who had already realized what was happening, raised her hand and said somewhat embarrassedly, "Professor, I'm here. Sorry, I was just spacing out and didn't hear you."

Listening to Gwen's explanation and seeing her seat, Otto Octavius ​​didn't say much. He just smiled and waved for her to sit down, then called on another student to answer his question.

After all, Gwen had already said that she had been a little distracted, so there was no need to make her answer questions she hadn't heard, as that would only make things more awkward.

Gwen understood Professor Otto Octavius's good intentions, so while inwardly marveling at the professor's kindness and friendliness, she closed her laptop and began to listen attentively to the lecture.

Meanwhile, Holm, the culprit who indirectly caused her embarrassment, was also busy.

However, he wasn't busy training Daisy, nor was he busy carrying out missions; he was busy killing people.

In a dimly lit room, a burly man was huddled in a corner, trembling and begging for mercy.

No matter how he behaved, several black tentacles still spread out from the figure standing in the shadows, binding his arms and ankles and pulling him out of the corner.

The reason for controlling the tentacles is, of course, Holm, and his current appearance is completely different from usual.

On his face was a black mask formed of venom. This black mask had no pattern and did not reflect light. It looked as if it were directly connected to his skin, a perfect and natural creation. It was both eerie and terrifying, and just looking at it sent chills down one's spine.

"Why be so afraid? You should have expected this day, shouldn't you, Agent Jerome?" Holm said, looking at the man he had firmly pinned to the wall.

"You should have been mentally prepared for this when you joined Hydra and became Grant Ward's confidant."

Hearing Holm's hoarse, deep voice, Jerome pleaded in a trembling voice, "Please, spare me! I can serve you! Just like I used to serve Grant Ward!"

"I can report you! I can report Grant Ward's true confidants! They're the people you should get rid of, please, spare me..."

Hearing Jerome's plea, Holm continued in a deep voice, "You don't need to report me. I know all the names you're trying to say. They've already gone to hell, and they might have already met Grant Ward."

"If it weren't to make their deaths more natural, how do you think you'd survived to this day?"

"Hydra has many talented people, why should I use someone who was not once under my control to do things?"

“Cut off one head, and two heads will grow back. Now it’s time to cut you off.”

(Keep reading! Keep reading! Keep reading! And there are still recommendation tickets and monthly tickets! Love you all~!)

Chapter 76, You Have Been Awakened

As the sun sets, the streetlights gradually come on, and the unique atmosphere of the night slowly envelops the city.

Brock Rumlow, carrying a hamburger and fries from a fast food restaurant, along with cigarettes and beer from a convenience store, continued walking in the direction where his shadow stretched out.

His rented apartment was located behind the main street in front, in a somewhat old-looking building.

He was particularly exhausted today because he had just completed a long mission for the task force, spending more than a month in the forests of South America to deal with a group of terrorists.

If those terrorists hadn't been exposed due to internal problems, he probably wouldn't have been able to return so soon.

While the S.H.I.E.L.D. action teams are indeed well-paid and give the impression of being as professional and cool as special forces, only they themselves know how exhausting it is.

Those who could join the action team were mostly mediocre people with average strength and no particularly outstanding abilities. Brock Rumlow felt that it would be a waste of his time to be an ordinary member with his skills.

But no matter how dissatisfied he was, since Hydra had not given any instructions and no one at S.H.I.E.L.D. had discovered his abilities, he could only continue to coast along in this position.

Thinking of this, Brock Rumlow sighed, took out a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it.

"Whoosh~" As he exhaled the white smoke, he felt some of the irritation in his heart dissipate.

Sometimes he would wonder, since no one had contacted him or given him any instructions for so long, did that mean Hydra had actually forgotten about him?

Whenever he thought of this place, the cruel and ruthless training he had received in the past would resurface in his mind, and the threats and advice of the Hydra instructors would begin to echo in his ears again.

"Cut off one head! Two heads will grow! You are one of the two heads that will grow in the future, and you are the future of Hydra!..."

"...From this day forward, your souls and bodies will bear the mark of Hydra! You will forever be a part of Hydra!"

"If you dare to betray us! You will suffer not only death, but endless torment worse than death!"

"Remember! There are no treacherous Hydras! Only dead Hydras! Long live Hydra!"

“There are no treacherous Hydras, only dead Hydras…” Brock Rumlow shuddered as he recalled the memory.

As those words echoed in his ears again, the instructor's cold gaze and the barely recognizable creature in the cage behind him resurfaced in his mind.

It is said that the person was once a member of Hydra, but was tortured into that inhuman state because of betrayal.

Thinking that his previous thought might lead him to become like that, Brock Rumlow quickly shook his head, banishing the terrible idea from his mind.

The fact that he even thought Hydra might have forgotten him was extremely dangerous.

As a gust of evening wind blew by, a chill ran down Brock Rumlow's back and neck, and he realized with a start that he had just broken out in a cold sweat.

The sticky feeling was unpleasant, so he quickened his pace, carrying what he was holding.

"Click!" With the sound of a key turning the lock, Brock Rumlow pushed open his door.

After habitually locking the door, he carried his things and walked towards the living room.

But the moment he stepped out of the porch, he saw that there was a person sitting on the sofa by the wall, a person wearing a black suit and hat, even his shirt and tie were black, and a strange and eerie mask on his face.

Watching the other person recline gracefully on the sofa, Brock Rumlow felt his hair stand on end, and his back, which had just been dried by the cold wind, suddenly became damp again.

None of the traps he set up at the entrance were triggered, so how did this person get in?

As Brock Rumlow's thoughts wandered, Holm, sitting on the sofa, spoke in a hoarse, deep voice: "The weather seems nice today, don't you think?"

Upon hearing Holm's words, Brock Rumlow felt a deep-seated memory stirred within him, and he replied almost without hesitation, "That's true, but I prefer a slightly drizzly day."

"Oh right, we seem to have met somewhere before, on Fifth Street?"

“Perhaps at the docks,” Holm replied.