Room and Board at Osborn's

When Harry and Norman proposed beginning the experiment on the artificial organ, Norman readily agreed.

Do not underestimate Norman's capabilities—he was a brilliant inventor in his own right, and Harry, who grew a bit smarter with every new technology he acquired, was no amateur either. The two of them together had more than enough strength to bring this technology to life.

"This is simply a work of art..." Norman said, gazing intoxicated at the artificial liver before him.

Harry did not deny his father's claim.

This was a semi-mechanical, semi-biological artificial liver. First, the patient's own cells were used to directionally cultivate partial living tissue, reducing rejection and enabling bile production. Then, combined with artificial tissue, a biochip, and a micro-motor providing sufficient power, this liver would fully possess the functions of a healthy organ.

Even in this world overflowing with black technology, this was a work of art.

"Harry, your guests have all arrived." Heli's voice came through the speaker.

"Good. Have them wait in the operating room."

Father and son exchanged a glance. The data showed that this liver had fully met the requirements for use. Now it was time for the real test.

"You'll be fine." Frank stood behind the thick glass, staring at his daughter, his hand ceaselessly making the sign of the cross. "God bless."

The door swung open, and Harry walked into the operating room carrying a case.

It was a completely sterile, vacuum-sealed case. Everyone could see the delicate liver inside.

"...So this is the artificial organ." The lead surgeon was also stunned by this work of art. "It's... beautiful."

"Thank you, Dr. Strangel. I believe you've already read the surgical instructions. I'll be here watching your work." Harry set down the case.

The surgeon before him was the renowned Stephen Strangel, though at this point he was still a neurosurgeon.

Strictly speaking, Harry had other candidates for performing the organ transplant. But getting acquainted with the future Doctor Strange couldn't hurt, and Strangel himself was very interested in this surgery—a semi-mechanical artificial organ was a groundbreaking invention. Performing this operation would be greatly beneficial to him.

Besides, his scalpel was undeniably the steadiest. There was no question about that.

"Then I'll leave it to you, Doctor." With that, Harry sat down to the side, ready to handle any emergencies that might arise during the surgery.

After all, this was the world's most advanced artificial organ, with no technical standards to reference. Everything required him, the inventor, to oversee it.

Strangel nodded. The shadowless lamp clicked on.

"Surgery begins."

Frank watched as blood vessel after blood vessel, nerve after nerve was severed from his daughter and connected to that artificial liver. The railing beside him had already been bent out of shape by his grip.

"...Condition stable. No adverse reactions. Continuing surgery."

"...Damaged organ fully removed. New organ transplant complete..."

As the organ was removed, the girl's heartbeat weakened. Her already frail breath became nearly inaudible.

"Artificial organ connected. Starting pump."

A faint electrical current passed through the artificial liver, synchronizing with the body's own weak bioelectricity. Fresh bile slowly entered the circulatory system.

Now came the most critical moment.

Everyone's eyes were locked on the girl lying on the operating table, while Harry stared intently at the data on the screen.

Thump... thump...

Thump.

The girl's heartbeat grew stronger—

"Organ functioning normally. No adverse reactions. Surgery successful."

"Everything is normal, Mr. Frank. All that's left is to treat the inflammation in your daughter's body. She is out of danger."

Thump!

Frank collapsed weakly against the wall, tears streaming down his face. His daughter would not leave him now.

"This is a great invention, Mr. Osborn." As the surgery ended, Strangel pulled off his mask, his face slightly flushed. "It will save tens of thousands of lives."

"That would be my honor. Thank you for your help, Mr. Strangel. Your angelic hands saved this poor family." Harry smiled.

The two shook hands amicably, exchanging compliments.

Click!

Heli captured the handshake on camera. This would be tomorrow's headline—the Osborn father and son had developed a new artificial organ, successfully saving the daughter of a Vietnam War veteran.

With a healthy liver, combined with the Osborn Group's medical resources, Frank finally heard his daughter's voice again.

Harry did not disturb Frank and his daughter's tender moment. It wasn't until evening, after Frank had coaxed his daughter to sleep, that the man sought Harry out on his own.

"Mr. Osborn, just say it. What do you need me to do?"

Frank was no fool. He understood that Harry wouldn't do good deeds for nothing. But Harry could have used his daughter's life as leverage and hadn't. In Frank's eyes, that itself was a gesture of good faith.

Besides, as far as he knew, Osborn Enterprises had never done anything out of line.

This veteran liked to be straightforward. That saved Harry a lot of communication effort. He appreciated it.

"I want you to handle security for my company. Here's the job description." Harry pulled out the documents he had prepared long ago.

The Osborn Group was going to establish an "Asset Protection and Control Department." Its main tasks were to protect company property and, in certain situations, to recover company assets.

This set of materials wasn't unfamiliar to Frank—in fact, companies had approached him before—but he preferred working in the military.

Now, however, he had already resigned from his military post.

"Mr. Osborn, I need to know if this will involve any... irregular operations."

"No."

Harry's decisiveness caught Frank off guard. From what he could observe, he didn't think Harry was lying.

What Harry was thinking was that he'd made his old man president precisely to define what was legal—of course he wouldn't violate laws or regulations.

"The Osborn Group is a legitimate company. Everything we do is for development, and our level is higher than most people's. You'll come to see that in time."

With that, Harry pulled out a USB drive containing all the combat data from the system—the "Spartan Combat Data and Training Manual" and the "Mech Warrior Combat Data and Training Manual."

"These are... some of my ideas. Your first job is to help me organize these thoughts into a systematic training method or something similar. Most of my requirements are written inside. After you finish this, we'll discuss the next steps."

Frank was a bit puzzled—was Mr. Osborn not thinking clearly? A gold-medal instructor was standing right in front of him, yet he wanted to train using his own ideas?

And did a private security force even need something like this?

"I know you have some doubts, but you'll understand once you take a look. Keep it confidential—this isn't a joke."

In the future, Osborn would roll out even more outrageous weapons and equipment. The soldiers in combat would no longer be ordinary people, the targets wouldn't be limited to humans, and the battlefield might not even be on Earth.

Frank might be an excellent American soldier, but Harry hadn't hired him to go bomb some third-world country and engage in slaughter and looting.

These principles couldn't be explained through words alone, but Frank would understand once he saw it.

"Also, our company provides room and board."

Frank nodded. This was security work after all—restricting freedom was normal.

"Understood. Where's my dorm?"

Harry didn't answer Frank's question. Instead, he pulled out a bank card and handed it to Frank.

"Go buy one yourself. And remember to handle security properly—do I need to remind you of that?"

Huh? Was that what "room and board" meant?

Frank's mouth fell open.