Chapter 141: Fine Adjustment Knob

Bruce Banner felt no attachment to the superpowers he might have lost. As a man who had achieved something unprecedented—earning seven doctorates before the age of forty, and standing as a world-class authority in both biology and physics—he trusted the vast, sea-like depth of his intellect far more than any superhuman ability.

His ambition had never been to act like Superman, using overwhelming brute force to save the world from one cataclysmic crisis after another. Instead, he wanted to be like those countless others who dedicated their lives and their knowledge to improving the human condition, lifting people out of suffering. He wanted to change the world through his mind. That was the very reason he had originally agreed to participate in General Ross's Super Soldier Serum experiment. He had truly intended to do what the General claimed: to refine the serum, isolate its regenerative properties, and transform it into a tool to heal millions of disabled individuals and children suffering from congenital, hereditary diseases.

He wanted to save the world through science, not through violence.

Furthermore, setting aside the question of superpowers, the entity that had inhabited his body was a monster through and through—a bloodthirsty beast that could even turn on Betty, the woman he loved most. If that creature were truly gone, Bruce Banner would be nothing but relieved.

However, all of this was based on the assumption that his current wound had failed to heal. Whether that was true remained to be seen. Even when the monster had been within him before, his wounds hadn't always healed instantly; it was only after he transformed into the beast and then shifted back that his injuries vanished. A scar on his waist from childhood had disappeared entirely after his last transformation. Bruce suspected the monster possessed an incredible, rapid regenerative ability.

Therefore, the fact that his current wound hadn't healed was a strong indicator that he might have lost the superhuman regenerative powers associated with his modified serum. Yet, it could not prove whether the monster still lurked within him. After all, whether the monster was present or not, he appeared to be an ordinary human in his current state.

That was the primary reason he had drawn his own blood and come to this laboratory, equipped with high-magnification optical microscopes and various analytical instruments. Since drifting into an alleyway after the destruction of his previous lab, Bruce had provided a blood sample to a close friend. At the time, his friend had noted that Bruce’s blood was unusual, observing a large number of green cells alongside his red blood cells—"dense, just like plant chloroplasts," his friend had joked. But Bruce knew better: those green cells were likely the key to his transformations. Normal humans did not have green cells in their blood, and he was no "plant person." Coupled with his friend's observation that his skin turned green when he became the monster, the connection was clear.

His current testing method was simple: prepare a blood slide and examine it under a high-precision optical microscope to look for those green cells, thereby determining if his experiment had been successful. It was an unscientific approach, but for a man on the run, Bruce had no better options. In the past, he would have set up countless control groups, analyzed arterial and venous blood separately, and conducted multiple, large-scale experiments to minimize error. He might have even performed a biopsy—what if the green cells vanished the moment they were removed from the body? These were things he had to consider. But now, he could not achieve such rigor. He could only examine this crude slide as carefully as possible, over and over again... it was the best he could do.

Or perhaps, even that was now beyond his reach.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the room.

The iron door of the abandoned laboratory had been kicked open. Bruce’s hand, currently preparing the slide, jolted violently at the sound. Had he not steadied it in time, the small glass slide would have shattered against the floor.

*How did they get here so fast?*

Bruce looked up, his brow furrowed in frustration as he glanced toward the entrance. He had anticipated that someone might come—after all, the energy required to power his gamma-ray emitter was enough to draw attention, and this was an abandoned research base, after all. He had assumed General Ross would eventually trace it back to him and send a team. But this was too fast. He had hoped to complete his observation and flee; surely the General wasn't clairvoyant enough to be waiting for him? Bruce assumed the intruders were from the General’s task force—he did not know they were actually terrorists who had been hijacking prisons and kidnapping officials.

He lowered his head, forcing himself to stay calm. He continued preparing the slide. If he couldn't escape, he might as well accept his fate. But before that, there was one thing he had to know: had his experiment succeeded? Could he still find those green cells, or was he still a monster hidden under human skin?

With that, Bruce became strangely composed. His hands grew steadier, and he quickly produced a crude slide, not even cleaned with saline solution. If his elementary school chemistry teacher could see this, they would be furious. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, listening to the sound of heavy footsteps drawing closer. Under such immense pressure, he didn't even dare to breathe. He hurried to the microscope, placed the slide, turned on the light, and began adjusting the magnification, the focus, and the light intensity.

*Faster, faster, faster,* he urged himself silently.

The image in his eyes shifted from blur to clarity. And then...

*Click.*

The sound of a gun being cocked echoed from right behind him.

He froze, his hand stopping on the fine-focus knob.

He had been so close.