The Experiment "Succeeded"

Twelve hours later, the researchers opened the incubator again.

This time, they planned to take a tissue sample—in other words, draw Lin Mo's blood for study.

A young assistant handled the procedure. Lin Mo did not recognize him. These researchers probably were not the same people who had studied Homelander in the original story; at the very least, Lin Mo had not seen Vogelbaum.

The young assistant wiped Lin Mo's calf with an alcohol swab, then picked up a fresh blood-collection needle.

Lin Mo did not deliberately resist.

The needle came down.

Ding.

A faint metallic clink sounded.

The young assistant froze. He looked down at the needle, then at Lin Mo's calf.

The tip had not pierced the skin.

Not only had it failed to go in, but its point had visibly bent.

Thinking the needle was defective, the assistant immediately replaced it.

A second attempt.

The needle bent again.

"Doctor."

The assistant's voice had changed.

"The needle can't pierce his skin."

Several researchers in the observation room sprang to their feet.

The lead researcher pushed open the door and entered the laboratory.

He took the needle from the assistant and examined Lin Mo's skin himself.

There was no thickening or hardening. To the touch, it was still the soft, delicate skin of an ordinary baby.

He switched to a thicker puncture needle and gradually applied more force.

The needle shaft slowly bent. Lin Mo began crying at just the right moment, not because it hurt.

A normal baby repeatedly jabbed with a needle by strangers ought to cry.

"Change the tissue-sampling tool."

Someone brought over a small scalpel.

The blade touched Lin Mo's calf.

The white-haired researcher did not press down immediately. First, he drew it lightly across the skin.

No cut.

He applied more force. The blade scraped against the skin with a faint rasp.

Lin Mo kept crying.

A few seconds later, a tiny nick appeared in the blade.

The laboratory fell silent.

The young assistant stared at the damaged scalpel, shock and barely concealed excitement in his eyes. The researchers exchanged glances and reached the same conclusion.

"So it wasn't a failed adaptation."

"It's a defensive ability."

"V5 strengthened his skin, muscles, and bones."

"No deformities, no organ failure, and no uncontrolled power."

The white-haired researcher's breathing quickened. Vought had already conducted a great many Compound V experiments, but infancy had always been a hurdle they could not clear.

Most successful subjects showed some degree of instability.

The stronger the ability, the greater the side effects and the risk of losing control tended to be.

Some subjects had even killed researchers on the spot when their powers awakened.

But the baby before them had shown no offensive ability.

He had simply become very difficult to hurt.

Stable. Safe. Controllable.

To Vought, which was trying to turn superpowers into a product, those three qualities mattered more than raw strength.

"Revise the experimental results."

The white-haired researcher drew a breath and continued.

"V5 injection successful."

"Provisional ability classification: absolute physical defense."

"Continue with bone-strength, temperature-tolerance, and impact tests. See whether the defensive enhancement covers everything."

"Raise the subject's classification."

Listening to their discussion, Lin Mo quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

His gamble had paid off.

Vought had mistaken the abilities he possessed by birth for enhancements caused by Compound V.

"Oh, and we need to report this to Dr. Vogelbaum." Several researchers smiled at one another. The experiment had reached a breakthrough, and Vought would surely reward them. Professor Vogelbaum would no doubt be delighted by Lin Mo's appearance.

Over the next few days, the number of tests rose rapidly.

Low temperatures.

High temperatures.

Electric current.

Blunt-force impacts.

Mild radiation.

Experiments that would have killed an ordinary baby could not truly harm Lin Mo.

But he kept his reactions under control.

When exposed to heat, he cried. When struck, he acted frightened. When electricity passed through his body, he deliberately jerked his limbs.

He made Vought believe that, though his body was extraordinarily tough, he could still feel pain and fear.

A baby with absolute defense who still showed normal emotions.

That suited Vought's interests far better than a monster with no weaknesses that they could not control.

Several weeks later, Lin Mo received a new experimental designation.

SOL-0.

The designation came from the researchers' preliminary assessment of the energy structure of his cells.

They merely believed his cells could store some kind of unusual radiation energy. They thought he might be able to project energy someday, though he was still too weak for now.

As for why he was subject zero rather than subject one, Lin Mo did not know yet.

Perhaps Vought did not consider him an official project.

As his observation classification rose, he gradually heard more information.

Eventually, he managed to sneak a look at the date in the researchers' logs about him.

August 17, 1980.

It was nearly forty years before the events of The Boys began.

Soldier Boy was still Vought's most influential superhero.

The Seven had not yet been formed.

Homelander had not been born.

Lin Mo's nerves gradually eased. What worried him most was Homelander showing up, but it seemed Homelander had not even been born. That made things easier.

He still had time.

Plenty of time.

At the rate a Kryptonian grew, as long as he could get sunlight from a yellow sun, he would eventually become strong enough to bring down all of Vought. Homelander was nothing. When the time came, Lin Mo would show him who really deserved the name.

Escaping now would be pointless.

He could not speak or walk. He had no identification and no money.

Even if he got out of the laboratory, he could not survive on his own.

Besides, although Vought treated him as a test subject, it also provided the best medical care, nutrition, and protection.

Until he could protect himself, this was actually the safest place for him to grow.

The key was not to escape immediately, but to make Vought misjudge how quickly he was growing.

He had to be strong, but not so strong that they thought they could not control him.

He had to be valuable, but not so frightening that they felt compelled to seal him away forever.

He needed to play the part of a successful test subject with limited abilities, slow growth, and long-term research value.

As for how hard that would be...

Lin Mo watched the young researcher outside the observation window trying to make him laugh, and a peculiar thought crossed his mind.

Who would suspect a baby who could barely roll over of deliberately deceiving all of Vought?

After an unknown stretch of time, the white-haired researcher closed the latest report outside the laboratory.

For the first time, the name appeared on its cover.

Carl Lin Mo.

For some reason, the name had barely changed. Lin Mo did not care much, though. Once he told people his name was Lin Mo, who would argue?

Vogelbaum studied SOL-0's test data and asked the assistant beside him, "How are the preparations for the aboveground transfer test?"

"Complete."

"Good."

"This baby..." He looked through the glass at the infant sleeping quietly in the incubator.

"If his ability really responds to ambient radiation, we should have our answer tomorrow."

Lin Mo kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, but his heart began to race.

Aboveground. For the first time since the day he was born, he was finally going to feel real sunlight again.