Chapter Nineteen: Oscorp Biologicals

The entrance to the supermarket was now crowded with people; though most were vagrants, there were also many like Zhong Shenxiu and his companions, drawn by curiosity. At that moment, a homeless man summoned the courage to walk toward the supermarket's doors.

He was not old, barely in his forties, but his skin was dark and gaunt, his body filthy, and his black tattered coat—uncertain whether meant for winter or summer—was riddled with holes born of resignation. As he stepped through the doorway, the bright lights within, the neatly arranged goods, and the air conditioning that felt as refreshing as a spring breeze washed over him. Instinctively, he stepped back, as if these clean, orderly things were not meant for him.

Yet, after a moment’s thought, he gritted his teeth and hurried inside, determined that if the manager cursed at him, he would turn and leave—at least to preserve the last shred of his dignity.

He kept his head bowed until he reached the counter, hesitating repeatedly before finally raising his eyes to meet the supermarket manager. And what he saw was a gentle smile he had never encountered before.

"Sir, are you here to participate in the event?" The manager, an Asian man with yellowish-black skin, spoke with clear articulation.

"Yes," the homeless man replied, reflexively lowering his head again.

"Then you'll need to answer a question. If you answer correctly, I’ll give you five seconds to grab whatever you like. No matter how much you take, I won’t charge you," the manager explained.

"Ask... ask away."

"What’s nine times two?"

The manager’s question startled him; he looked up in surprise. Such a simple question—he certainly knew the answer. He tentatively whispered, "...eighteen."

"Five—" The manager immediately began the countdown.

For a moment, the homeless man’s mind went blank, but then he reacted, frantically grabbing a shopping basket and making a mad dash toward the food section!

Thud—

In his haste, he tripped over his own feet and fell hard to the ground. Frustrated, he scrambled to his feet; the manager’s countdown was already at "three." He moved even faster, snatching items one after another—bread, instant noodles, cookies, it didn’t matter what they were. Everything went into the shopping basket.

"One."

Hearing "one" in his ear, he instantly stopped, realizing that after his tumble, he hadn’t managed to gather much food. Reluctantly, he cast a longing glance at the quiet bread and cookies on the shelves. He made no further moves and prepared to leave.

But then!

The manager’s countdown resumed: "Point nine... point eight..." He was suddenly ecstatic! His hands moved even faster, so quickly that faint afterimages seemed to flicker—terrifying in their speed!

Once the basket was full, he didn’t wait for the manager to stop counting; he walked straight to the counter.

"May Jesus bless you—" he bowed deeply to the manager.

The manager behind the counter smiled in return. "Sir, this is all thanks to your excellent math skills—a reward you earned for yourself."

Hearing this, the homeless man said no more, bowed again silently, and left with his food.

Seeing him walk out with a bulging basket, the crowd outside erupted, surging into the supermarket in a frenzy. Ultimately, a burly white man claimed the lead.

The man was tall—like a wild horse—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that looked strong enough to drive a car over them. He hardly seemed like a vagrant at all.

With head held high, he strode through the supermarket doors, eyes fixed on the new PS3 deep inside, apparently calculating whether he had enough time for a round trip.

"Quick, ask the question!" He withdrew his gaze and barked at the manager, poised to sprint.

The manager glanced at him with concealed disdain. "What’s the formula for calculating the velocity of a curvature drive engine?"

WTF?

The man was stunned, his running stance frozen.

"This is discrimination, outright racial discrimination! Why was the black man’s question so easy, and mine is from a sci-fi movie? If I could answer that, I’d win a Nobel Prize! This is blatant discrimination!" He shouted, face flushed.

"Sorry, sir, the questions are random. Since you didn’t answer, please step aside and make way for the next person."

"I’ll sue you, you racist!" he threatened as he left.

The manager ignored him. Glancing at the battered copy of "The Three-Body Problem" under the counter, the question had reminded him of the book. He wondered if the second volume had been released—perhaps he should call A-Zhen soon to have her send a copy.

The man slunk away, and the crowd finally understood the manager’s true intention. Most of the spectators tacitly entered the supermarket to shop for their goods, while the vagrants remained disciplined, even lining up.

"Shenxiu, that manager is truly a kind-hearted man," Jinsha said to Zhong Shenxiu as she entered the bustling supermarket.

"Yes, yes!" Little Gwen jumped up in agreement.

Zhong Shenxiu smiled and nodded, then asked, "Does Gwen need to buy any daily necessities? Let’s help her first, I’m not in a hurry."

"Bedding, bug lamp, outdoor tent, instant food, toiletries..." Jinsha pulled out a small notebook and read off the densely packed list.

"Is this for summer camp? Anyone would think she’s joining the scouts for battle," Zhong Shenxiu remarked, surprised. These were clearly camping supplies—going out into the wild at just ten years old. Are all summer camps in Queens this wild?

Jinsha waved her hand helplessly. "That was my thought too when I saw the list, but it’s a requirement from Osborn Biotech. Apparently, they really do go to jungles and grasslands, though all indoors."

"Osborn Biotech? Why would such a big company send elementary students to summer camp? Even if it’s indoors, jungles and grasslands sound odd," Zhong Shenxiu mused. The name Osborn Biotech rang a bell.

The supervillain Green Goblin from Spider-Man—across various versions—was always tied to Osborn Biotech. Other figures like Dr. Lizard were connected as well.

With a company like that, Zhong Shenxiu instinctively considered the worst.

"It is strange, but they said Gwen’s grades are excellent, so she’s become one of their key candidates for cultivation."

"I suppose this summer camp is a form of training," Jinsha replied.

"Exactly—only two people in the class can go! Others can’t even if they want to," Gwen’s face lit up with pride at the mention of her outstanding grades.

"Two people—who’s the other?" Zhong Shenxiu suddenly felt a premonition.

As expected, Gwen answered, "A bookworm named Peter Parker."