The Technical R&D Department, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s core divisions, had always been a key investment target for the military's upper ranks.
By convention, there was a quarterly technology showcase where the military could select promising samples to invest in.
Quite a few researchers had already displayed their achievements.
Dr. Pym was scheduled before Allen.
That was right—the domestic-abuse hero who had beaten his wife into the Quantum Realm and then ended up wearing a green hat.
Watching a single Pym Particle shrink its target down to the size of a grain of rice, the military brass were greatly pleased.
However, Pym Particles were still only in the experimental stage and had yet to reach the level of maturity required for practical application.
Howard did not need to participate. His work involved the energy sector, and even one piece of equipment was as large as a tank. He had merely come to watch the excitement.
"This thing is good. If it were used on..."
Allen looked between his legs, his smile especially radiant.
"It seems Pym Particles can only shrink things, not enlarge them. They can't restore them to their original state either," Howard explained.
"Shit, what a piece of trash."
Allen showed no attempt to hide his disdain. "Who the hell can't make things smaller?"
Once Dr. Pym stepped down, Allen swaggered to the center, with Wilson pulling a handcart beside him.
The matter of this young new expert improving the Super Soldier Serum was no longer a secret. Many military higher-ups were eager to see what refreshing new creations he could produce.
Allen swept his gaze across the elderly officials, his eyes settling on several colonels and brigadier generals whose heads had already become bald domes.
"As everyone knows, hair loss is man's mortal enemy. After painstaking research, I have developed a special shampoo that can completely solve this century-old problem."
At a meaningful glance from Allen, Wilson awkwardly took out a plastic bottle.
"Ta-da! Strong Shed Shampoo."
Allen accepted the shampoo and introduced it. "Use it just once, and I guarantee not a blade of grass will remain. Under the sun, your head will be as smooth and shiny as a light bulb. The only thing that can rival this product may be a lighter."
Allen pointed at the military officials and asked, "So, are you tempted or not?"
The corners of everyone's mouths twitched. No one answered such an utterly deranged question.
Everyone was troubled by preventing hair loss, while he had gone straight for a permanent solution.
The trouble was gone, and so was the hair.
Meanwhile, Howard's eyes sparkled as he had already spotted the business opportunity.
If Strong Shed Shampoo was not used on hair but for removing armpit hair and beep hair, wouldn't it make a fortune?
"Even that didn't tempt you?"
Allen tossed away the shampoo and said seriously, "Wilson, bring out the props. Take out the second product: Fireproof Styling Water."
Wilson then set out a mannequin head and took out another bottle of solution.
Allen applied the solution to the model head and used both hands to shape its hair into an exaggerated pompadour.
Then he set it on fire.
In an instant, flames engulfed the model head, making it burn fiercely like a torch.
Before long, the rubber model had blackened and softened, yet the exaggerated pompadour wig remained perfectly unchanged.
"There won't be any problem under a thousand degrees. Our slogan is: Even if you're smashed to pieces, leave your hairstyle behind in this world."
What a lunatic!
At a thousand degrees, a person would have turned to ashes, yet their hair would be completely fine. Was he trying to scare crematorium workers to death?
Of course, if used properly, the product had considerable potential.
It could be used in firefighting or for fire-resistant coatings on equipment. Allen had simply used it in the wrong place.
"Very good."
A brigadier general's expression softened slightly. At least he had seen something practical.
"You have good taste. I'll treat you to some candy."
Allen stepped forward and handed him a lollipop.
The brigadier general frowned as he accepted it. Seeing Allen's eager gaze, he unwrapped it and put it in his mouth.
The next second, his eyes widened as music echoed inside his mouth.
"Isn't it a surprise?"
Allen grinned, revealing two large front teeth. "This is an explosive music lollipop I prepared for agents."
"Explosive?"
The brigadier general was so frightened that he tried to throw away the lollipop. If it exploded in his mouth, his entire head would vanish.
"Don't take it out," Allen stopped him. "As long as you keep licking it with your tongue, it won't explode. Just lick it until you've finished it, and you'll be fine."
Allen excitedly returned to the handcart, dug out a briefcase, and introduced it. "Being an agent is difficult work. Out of humanitarian concern, I borrowed some ideas from two colleagues who were also experimented on back at Qingshan Rehabilitation Center, Vinci and Leon, and developed an agent briefcase."
"Don't be fooled by its plain appearance. It has a wealth of functions."
He opened the briefcase and took out four metal tubes, carefully comparing their thickness.
Everyone could not help but speculate that they might be parts of some firearm or weapon.
In less than a minute, Allen screwed the four metal tubes together, then turned it over and sat on it.
"Super Agent Chair."
Allen pressed a password key, and his body began to vibrate. He introduced it, "When agents monitor an environment for long periods, their legs are bound to get sore. This product lets them complete missions while sitting down. It also has vibrating massage and heated-seat functions. In an emergency, it can even launch you upward to clear a wall."
"Old Howard, isn't it awesome?"
Allen looked at Howard and asked. Howard replied awkwardly, "Your inventions really are impressive."
"The next item is the Whimsical Gun. The first shot fires forward, and the second fires backward, preventing the weapon from falling into enemy hands."
After saying that, Allen tossed it back into the cart, apparently finding nothing particularly remarkable about it.
After rummaging around for a while, he took out a syringe.
"Allow me to solemnly introduce the Regret Needle." Allen said with a straight face, "One injection can make a person repent for every mistake they have committed in their life."
Allen's eyes involuntarily turned toward Wilson, his gaze gradually becoming suggestive.
"You're insane."
Wilson had already guessed Allen's intentions. He clearly wanted to stick him with the needle.
There was no questioning Allen's research ability, but if it were used on him and made him spill every shameful thing he had done, he would suffer instant social death.
Wilson quickly hid behind Howard, refusing no matter what to serve as Allen's lab rat.
"Come on, just one shot. I guarantee you'll feel refreshed and become a new man."
Allen chased after him with the syringe, while Howard, caught between them, nervously tried to persuade him, afraid it would be stuck into him instead. "Careful, don't stick me. Find a prisoner to test it on."
"Don't be scared. The dosage isn't high. It will only last one minute at most."
"Even so, you can't use it on a colleague."
"It doesn't matter. Being honest is what matters most."
"That would make someone lose all dignity."
"Eh... where's my Regret Needle?"
After a brief standoff, Allen suddenly realized that the syringe in his hand was gone.
At once, everyone hurriedly checked themselves to see whether they had been accidentally hit.
With a thud.
Among the military personnel, a colonel suddenly dropped to his knees, his eyes filled with tears. A syringe was visibly lodged in his thigh.
The drug had taken effect.
Everyone quietly waited for the man's social death to unfold.
"I'm sorry. I've betrayed America, I've betrayed the people. I sold the shipping schedules of cargo vessels to Chrysanthemum Country. I've been doing it since last year. I'm sorry, I was just blinded by greed."
Hiss... an American traitor.
That injection had uncovered an unexpected delight.
At this point in time, America had not entered the conflict itself and was ruthlessly profiting from the war, with thousands upon thousands of cargo ships leaving port each day to transport supplies to battlefields across the world.
Shipping routes and transport times were the key to securing profits.
It was easy to imagine that this man would not survive. He had completely touched the capitalists' interests.
"General, I was wrong."
The colonel clutched the nearby brigadier general's leg and wept bitterly. "Give me one more chance to become a new man. I'm willing to atone for my crimes through meritorious service."
"Sinner, just wait for your court-martial."
The brigadier general spoke unclearly around the lollipop.
"General, I shouldn't have seduced your wife into some deep exchanges while you were drunk. I deeply regret it now."
The moment those words came out, the entire room erupted.
It was not just one person's social death. A forgiving green glow suddenly shone atop the brigadier general's head.
"Vice Admiral Winx, your son and I truly love each other. Although the relationship between him and me is not accepted by society, I hope to receive your blessing."
"Bless your motherfucking horse."
The military higher-ups descended into chaos as a crowd surrounded one person and beat him savagely.
Even more people did not want the gossip to reach themselves. Two highly respected generals in the military now wore faces dark enough to turn green.
One had been cheated on by his wife, while the other's son had come out of the closet. That was enough to stir up heated discussion throughout the military.
Naturally, media capitalists who loved gossip would surely publish the matter in the newspapers, turning it into a nationwide feast for everyone to enjoy.
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