The old general didn't wait for Edgar to give a specific plan. He directly picked up the heavy military coat hanging on the back of the chair and put it on, pushed open the heavy solid wood door and walked out.
The office became quiet again, except for the faint hum of the humidifier in the corner.
Edgar is still sitting on the large leather boss chair, holding the half-empty glass of Whiskey in his hand.
He did not feel displeased by the old general's condescending attitude. On the contrary, the corners of his mouth slowly raised.
We are all old foxes who have spent most of our lives struggling in this power field that eats people without spitting out their bones.
Some things don't need to be said at all.
What the old general wants is not the data on dead objects in the shooting range, but what he wants to see is how much panic this monster can create when thrown into the streets of a real city.
When faced with the heavy firepower of the heavily armed city SWAT police, can that layer of scales withstand the rifle fire?
If you want to get that tens of billions of dollars in orders, you have to use the lives of ordinary people to fill up the bloody actual combat test report.
Edgar raised the cup, drank the remaining Whiskey in one gulp, and pressed the intercom on the desk.
Within two minutes, Madelyn walked in wearing exquisite high heels.
"Mr. President, how was the discussion with the General?"
"It went very smoothly. However, the customer made a small request. They need a very intuitive and realistic effect data."
Edgar looked at the bustling and bright night scene of Manhattan outside the window, and said in a relaxed tone, "Go and make arrangements and get a batch of new mixed medicines from the Research and Development Department."
Madelyn was stunned for a moment, and his mind started running quickly:
"You mean to ask Research and Development Department to prepare a few experimental subjects and release them into civilian areas? If Federal Bureau of Investigation follows the clues and traces this to us..."
"No, that would be too deliberate and could easily leave clues."
Edgar waved her hand, interrupting her worries, "We don't need to release the experimental subjects ourselves."
He turned around and tapped his fingers lightly on the mahogany table.
"Send a few people with clean backgrounds to the worst slums of Queens or Brooklyn to secretly spread these potions. Remember, be sure not to leave any traces related to Vought International."
Madelyn looked at him with some confusion. "Free distribution to those homeless people and gangsters?"
"Yes."
Edgar smiled gently and said, "As long as you spread some rumors in the underground black market and tell them that this is New Stable Version of Compound V flowing from the inside of Vought International, you can get 100% extraordinary power with just one injection."
Edgar walked to the water dispenser and poured himself a glass of warm water.
"Madelyn, you have to understand that in this world, what is most indispensable are the poor ghosts and desperadoes who live in the quagmire, carry loan sharks, and dream of making a comeback.
As long as we give them a hope of reaching the sky in one step and possessing the power of Superheroes, there is no need for us to force them. A large number of people will take the initiative to push the unknown potion into their own veins like they are grabbing for life-saving straw."
Madelyn took a deep breath.
The perfect excuse to experiment with free and proactive supplies.
"I understand, this is indeed the safest way."
Madelyn calmed down and said, "I'll arrange the manpower right away and spread the things out tonight."
After the door closed, Edgar returned to his desk and pressed another private secret communication channel.
Not long after, the air in the corner of the office was slightly distorted, and a barefoot little boy slowly revealed his original figure.
Duke stood obediently, his clear eyes full of admiration and dependence on Edgar.
The calculation on Edgar's face instantly subsided and replaced it with a gentle and fatherly face.
He walked up to Duke and reached out to rub the little boy's hair.
"Duke, I have a very important task for you tonight."
Edgar opened the drawer, took out a Video Camera, and handed it to the little boy.
"Go to the slums of Brooklyn and find a high place with a good view to hide. Remember, remain invisible the whole time and don't interfere with anything you see. You only need to press the video button to clearly capture the chaos, screaming, and those things that are about to happen on the street, tearing up the police car."
Duke was holding the Video Camera. Although he didn't quite understand why he took these pictures, he still nodded vigorously.
Being able to help this father-like CEO put a pure smile on his face.
"Go ahead and come back early. It's windy outside at night, so don't catch a cold."
Edgar warned in a gentle voice.
The figure of Duke gradually faded in the air, and finally completely blended into the bright lights of the office, as if it had never appeared before.
Edgar sat back on the large chair, opened a new document on the table, picked up the pen and slowly sketched on it.
The night wind howled outside the window, and the lights of Manhattan were still in a state of ecstasy.
Long Island Estate.
Soldier Boy Benjamin leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, looking at Lynn who was cutting fruit in front of the island, but hesitated to speak.
His rough hands rubbed the pockets of his flannel shirt twice, and his old face showed a rare expression of uneasiness.
"That..."
Benjamin cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident.
"Lynn, let's discuss something. You see, I've been doing my best these days chopping firewood and repairing fences. Can you... give me some pocket money?"
When he said these words, Benjamin felt that his old face was getting hot.
He is the spiritual idol of the All-America country and the top star of the Vought International country. He goes to and from top clubs, but he never speaks for a few dollars.
Now I am reduced to asking my parents for money like a child.
Lynn didn't even raise his head, the fruit knife in his hand skillfully cut the apple into small even pieces.
"Nothing for free."
Lynn said in a calm tone, "But there are rules in this family. If you want pocket money, you have to work to get it. Reggie washes the car, Tommy sweeps the fallen leaves, and John cleans the windows. They all earn their own money, and so do you."
Benjamin was stunned for a moment. The old gangster's pride was about to get in trouble, but thinking of his withered pocket, he finally gritted his teeth.
"Okay! What do you want to do?"
Half an hour later, Benjamin was shirtless, stepping on the steep roof of the Manor's villa, holding tools in his hand, cleaning the thick frozen ice lumps and old fallen leaves that were blocked in the gutters.
The cold wind blew on his body, but he was covered in white hair and sweat.
With his strange strength, these tasks are not difficult to do, but it requires a lot of patience and not to crush the tiles on the roof.
After he had cleaned the drainage system of the entire roof and climbed down the ladder, Lynn happened to be standing under the eaves with a cup of hot tea.
Lynn casually took out two crumpled twenty-dollar bills from his pocket and handed them over.
"Today's wages."
Benjamin took the forty dollars.
The two thin banknotes looked a little funny in his big hands that could tear apart armored vehicles.
After taking the money, Benjamin took a shower, put on a thick Hoodie, put the hood on his head, left Manor quietly, and got on the bus to the city.