Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 6075 - 5090: Fighter’s Fate (36)_2

"This isn’t just about pouring two reagents from test tubes into a bottle. It requires very professional mixing. Only a highly skilled chemist can do it. As for the components..."

Iron Man looked at Eddie and then said, "You need to let that symbiont inside you possess me for a moment. We need to share memories so I can deduce some of the components..."

"No way!!!" Eddie hadn’t said anything yet, but Venom roared first, saying, "There are corpses of my kind all over here, you damn psychopath!!!"

Eddie was a bit surprised as he looked around but didn’t see any corpses. Peter, however, understood. Venom was probably referring to the symbiont samples extracted by Iron Man from this universe’s Venoms, which were used for creating the Symbiotic Battle Armor.

But from a symbiont’s perspective, those things indeed resembled the corpses of their kind, especially those of infant symbionts, as these samples were akin to Venom’s offspring, just inactive. It was certainly a horror scene for the symbionts.

"Then there’s nothing we can do," Iron Man said. "Unless you can get the original specimen, I can’t accurately identify components from a few abstract descriptions. No chemist can do that."

At this moment, Natasha suddenly had a light bulb moment. She looked at Venom and asked, "Venom, can you sense who has that stuff on them?"

Venom thought for a moment and said, "I can. Although I don’t know what the components are, I can sense the smell. It’s a very unique scent. I smelled it on the mutants and in the warehouse."

"That’s manageable then," Natasha breathed a sigh of relief and said, "You need to patrol with us to find the mutants. Otherwise, York City will descend into chaos again."

Venom mumbled something in Eddie’s mind but didn’t object. Natasha led them outside, coincidentally bumping into an agent coming in.

This agent was still outside the laboratory in the Stark Building, protecting Pamela while also monitoring Iron Man’s whereabouts. He would come by every hour to ensure Iron Man hadn’t escaped, and the time for a check-in had come again.

As soon as the agent approached, Venom suddenly roared and said, "He’s got that scent on him!!!"

Instantly, everyone drew their weapons. The agent stood in place, stunned, "What?"

"Stand back!" Natasha shouted, her weapon raised.

The agent immediately raised his hands, "Calm down, ma’am. I’m your colleague."

"You..." Natasha didn’t even know what to ask, how could the agent have come into contact with mutant chemicals?

"Why don’t you first tell me what’s going on?" the agent asked. "Otherwise, I don’t even know what to explain."

Peter, being more reasonable, briefly explained the situation. The agent immediately said, "The Extremis Virus."

"The only chemical I’ve come into contact with recently is the Extremis Virus," the agent said.

"When did you come into contact with it..." Before Iron Man could finish his sentence, he smacked his forehead with his hand, recalling that he had once sent the agent to retrieve the Extremis Virus from the lab.

But at that time, a mutated Happy suddenly attacked. Iron Man rushed down to fight him, both were caught, and Iron Man had no time to research the Extremis Virus further.

"But my box was sealed," Iron Man said. "Even if it wasn’t sealed, that stuff is injected. How could you have gotten it on you?"

"It was sealed at the time, but maybe not anymore," the agent said as he pulled out Diana’s Blessing and added, "Remember? That guy smashed the glass, trying to attack Pamela. I shot him."

Iron Man’s expression slowly stiffened: "My samples!!!"

He disregarded the lockdown on the lab, rushing madly into the lab where Pamela was, opening the freezer in section B. The heartbreaking scene unfolded before him: all the boxes with colorful labels were smashed to pieces.

Iron Man was about to collapse, but his scientist nature kicked in. He noticed something peculiar about these shattered boxes; there was no liquid within, as if they had never contained anything.

This was abnormal. In fact, the Extremis Virus does not need to be stored at low temperatures. He kept these samples in the freezer because, as a professionally trained scientist, he habitually stored all biobased materials sealed and at low temperature.

In reality, the Extremis Virus would not become inactive if kept at room temperature, and you could just keep it in a bowl, and it would still be usable. Logically, even if the boxes broke, the contents should now be scattered inside the box or on the cabinet’s surface, but there was nothing here.

Iron Man slowly stood up, beginning to ponder. After a moment, he shouted toward the door: "Shiller, get in here!"

The agent went in, and Iron Man reached out towards him: "Let me see your gun."

The agent took out his gun and then warned him, "I warn you, if you fire this thing, the first thing to break should be your scapula."

"I have no interest in operating a tank cannon." Iron Man snatched the gun, then asked, "What temperature could this thing reach when fired? I mean, the backward heat wave?"

"I’m not a thermometer," the agent said, "but it’s probably quite high. My arms often get burned."

After speaking, the agent rolled up his shirt sleeve to look at the skin on his arm, which left him stunned.

"Nice tattoo," Iron Man commented, looking at the tattoo on his arm, as there was nothing else there but the tattoo.

The agent was puzzled. He had been genuinely burned the day he fired; more accurately, he got burned every time he fired, leaving scars on his arm, which would only be healed by the subsequent Gray Mist. How come there were no scars this time?

The agent thought maybe he was experiencing an illusion, but the broken glass and the burn marks on the ground were undeniable evidence that he had fired. How was it possible that it left no scars?

Yet, Iron Man, after a brief pause, was trembling with excitement. He grabbed the agent’s arm and led him to the lab table: "Come here, don’t move. Let me draw some blood..."

The agent quickly pulled his arm back, looking at Iron Man warily. Iron Man took out a blood-drawing device and said, "You may have accidentally created a miracle, one I’ve been researching: the polymorphic transition of the Extremis Virus, and you did it."

"The temperature and impact of your gunshot vaporized the Extremis Virus, and then you inhaled it through breathing, acquiring incredible recovery abilities. It must be that! It must be!!!"