Manhattan's Vought Tower's top floor, President’s Office's office has just been replaced with a brand new Persian wool carpet.
The previous one was stained with Stormfront's blood and had to be disposed of by the cleaning department overnight.
Stan Edgar did not wear his black haute couture suit today, but rarely changed into a slightly looser Dark Blue casual suit.
He sat on a large leather boss's chair and pushed a thick gilded document across from the mahogany desk.
Sitting opposite him was a man with gray hair and a big belly.
The man is wearing a straight military uniform, and the general star Winky on his shoulder shines under the warm light in the room.
He is a very important person at Department of Defense. He usually only comes to New York in person when it involves military orders worth tens of billions of dollars.
"Try it, this is the vintage wine Madelyn just brought back from Scotland winery last month."
Edgar leaned back in the chair with a relaxed posture, playing with a transparent ice hockey glass with his slender fingers.
The old general did not touch the glass of Whiskey, but picked up the reading glasses on the table, put them on, and opened the gilded document.
After turning a few pages, the general's brows furrowed deeply, and there was some undisguised suspicion on his face covered with age spots.
"Edgar, we are old friends, there is no need to go around in circles."
The general closed the document and threw it back on the table with a muffled sound.
"Your Vought International and Superheroes are really useful. I don't deny this. In the past few years, whether it was dealing with the troubles in Zhongdong or conducting special team raids, your people have always managed things beautifully."
The general paused and tapped his stubby fingers on the table.
"However, special operations are one thing, but fully entering the conventional defense field is another. Those Superheroess of yours wearing tights are too delicate, have a big temper, and are difficult to manage, and they have to spend a lot of money to train them since they were young. It is impossible for Department of Defense to put all the country's security defenses on a group of celebrities who may go crazy on the streets at any time because they are in a bad mood."
Edgar After hearing these words, there was still that elusive and calm smile on his face.
He fully understands the other party's concerns.
In the past, the biggest problem with Compound V was instability.
The mortality rate of injecting adults is too high, and raising them from an early age is full of uncertainty.
Cultivating a Homelander or Soldier Boy can indeed deter the world, but they are too rare to form an organized regular army.
"You are right, the previous model is indeed not suitable for comprehensive promotion."
Edgar took a sip of Whiskey, and the ice cubes made a crisp sound in the cup.
"So what I show you today is not the Superheroes, but a weapon. A standardized weapon that can be mass-produced on an assembly line like a rifle."
When he heard the words assembly line and standardization, the old general's eyes flickered slightly.
He picked up the document again and his eyes fell on some of the photos.
The photos showed some ordinary adult men, but their bodies were covered with a layer of hard gray-brown scales, and they had a sharp poisonous horn on their heads. They looked like monsters from a mythical movie.
"We Research and Development Department have made a new breakthrough."
Edgar's voice was gentle, like introducing a new car on the market, "We have perfectly integrated the genetic material of a special organism with Compound V, and the new drug has completely overcome the problem of fatality rate."
Edgar sat upright and crossed his hands on the table.
"What does this mean? It means that Department of Defense no longer needs to be picky about the physical quality of his soldiers. He can just pull an ordinary adult from the street and give him a shot of New Compound. He will 100% gain fixed abilities, invulnerable scales, strength ten times greater than that of ordinary people, and a venom spray that can dissolve armored vehicles in an instant."
Edgar looked at the general's eyes that were slightly widened in surprise and continued to throw out the bait.
"There is no uncertainty, no surprises. The most important thing is that their brain nerves will be slightly suppressed by the medicine and become absolutely obedient to orders. You don't have to worry about them being out of control like John or Ben. They are just a group of ultimate infantry who do not need to be paid, are not afraid of death, and can be mass-produced."
There was a long silence in the office.
The old general stared at those photos and began to make a quick calculation in his mind.
If there really is such a monster army that is not afraid of death, all conventional armored vehicles and individual tactical equipment can be eliminated.
You can also save a lot of money on your annual pension, which is definitely a deal that will drive the politicians like Washington crazy.
But he is an old fox who has been in the field of power for most of his life, and he has seen too many PPT plans that are packaged in a colorful way.
"Sounds really tempting, Edgar."
The old general took off his reading glasses, folded them carefully and put them in his coat pocket, "If it is like what you said, the order for Department of Defense will definitely triple the stock price of Vought International."
The old general picked up the glass of Whiskey on the table and drank most of it in one gulp, feeling the spicy wine flowing down his throat.
"But you have to understand that data on paper is always pale and unreliable. Those old guys at Washington will not give you a budget of tens of billions of dollars just because of a few beautiful experimental photos and a few pages of analysis reports."
The old general stood up, adjusted the hem of his military uniform, and looked down at Edgar.
"We need to see the real-life effects of this thing. Instead of shooting a few wooden targets in your comfortable underground laboratory, or dealing with a few unarmed death row prisoners, I want to see how destructive these monsters can be in a real extreme environment, when facing real resistance, and how obedient they are."
Edgar sat on the chair without moving. He looked at the serious face of the old general.