The sky was gloomy, as if a downpour could begin at any moment...
Samuel Sterns, his hair a disheveled mess, clutched his briefcase and muttered a curse under his breath at the wretched weather before breaking into a jog as he hurried into the lecture hall.
He was a professor in the Cellular Biology Department at Grayburn College, occasionally responsible for teaching students, though most of his time was spent holed up in his lab tinkering with equipment.
This unkempt biology professor had a rather perfunctory teaching style... he would read from the lesson plan for a few minutes before letting the students study on their own. He despised having to explain concepts like gene regulation, protein science, and cell signaling to a bunch of clueless kids, only to endure their endless, sluggish questions, their minds moving as slowly as an eighty-year-old grandmother's...
'Those questions are so simple they could be answered just by flipping through the textbook!' Samuel Sterns thought, his lips curling in disdain.
He was Grayburn College's resident oddball; antisocial, disliked, and always keeping to himself. Most of his time was spent buried in obscure research, especially in recent days, when he had strictly forbidden anyone from entering his private lab without permission.
Even cleaning and maintenance had to be done by him alone.
This led some faculty members to whisper behind his back, speculating whether Samuel Sterns was secretly conducting some kind of illegal, unethical research. Of course, this was just casual gossip among colleagues... no one took it seriously.
Independent scholars like Dr. Sterns, who lacked fame, steady funding, or generous investors, were stuck with the college's shabby labs.
The world of science was a ruthlessly pragmatic place... individual talent and promising research projects were the keys to proving one's worth.
Unfortunately, Sterns had neither...
Of course, the kind of 'talent' referred to here was the likes of Reed Richards or Bruce Banner... genuine, undisputed geniuses. After all, people only paid attention to the top of the field. Who cared about those trailing behind?
As the bell signaling the end of class rang, Samuel was the first one out of the lecture hall. He rushed back to his cramped outdated private lab...
The small, cluttered room, packed with various instruments and devices, looked more like a disorganized bachelor's apartment than a proper research facility.
Being an independent scholar sounded liberating, but without recognition or financial backing from investors or major corporations, he was stuck in this pitiful existence of using outdated equipment, restricted by budget and manpower, forced to focus on niche and low-cost research.
Over time, this only pushed him further away from the mainstream scientific community.
Samuel Sterns was a prime example. He wasn't some talentless hack... in fact, he had considerable scientific aptitude. But his eccentric, stubborn, and arrogant personality had gotten him kicked out of multiple research teams, leaving him with no choice but to teach at an obscure college...
"One day, those idiots will realize they missed their chance to work with a real genius!"
Samuel sneered as he turned on his computer and logged into an encrypted channel under the alias 'Mr. Blue'... He waited with bated breath for a certain someone to appear.
He had first met 'Mr. Green' (Bruce Banner under a pseudonym) two months ago, when he stumbled upon a post in a rather obscure forum. Someone had asked how to reduce gamma radiation levels in blood, claiming to have witnessed a person survive exposure to massive amounts of gamma rays.
Most dismissed it as nonsense. No one could endure gamma radiation and walk away unscathed. The rays would penetrate the body, ionizing cells and eroding complex organic molecules like proteins, nucleic acids, and enzymes... the very building blocks of living cells.
Once damaged, the body's normal biochemical processes would be disrupted, leading to mass cell death.
This was basic biology. At 200-600 rems of gamma radiation, the body's hematopoietic organs (like bone marrow) would be destroyed, and white blood cells would severely deplete, leading to internal bleeding, hair loss, and a 0-80% chance of death within two months.
At 600-1000 rems, the death rate within two months jumped to 80-100%. And at over 5000 rems, the central nervous system would be destroyed, causing convulsions, tremors, loss of coordination, lethargy, and a 100% chance of death within two days.
The dosage Mr. Green described far exceeded even the 100% lethal threshold. In simple terms, the moment that person was exposed to the gamma rays, death should have been instantaneous. If someone really had survived, it would be a miracle beyond scientific explanation.
Out of sheer boredom, Samuel, under the alias Mr. Blue, began corresponding with this Mr. Green. After a few exchanges, he gradually started believing the other man's claims, because the data and details were too precise to dismiss.
Over time, the two communicated through encrypted channels.
Samuel was desperate to get his hands on Mr. Green's blood samples for research. If he could crack the key problem and harness gamma radiation, he would skyrocket to the top of the scientific world, and maybe even win a Nobel Prize.
Driven by ambition, he offered academic assistance to Mr. Green, while Banner, in turn, hoped Samuel could help him uncover the real reason behind his transformation into the Hulk whenever he lost control of his emotions. Both had their own agendas, yet maintained a cautious distance.
<...I need more data...>
He sent the message to Mr. Green.
Not long ago, Samuel had obtained Banner's blood samples and immediately began comparative studies. With his sharp intuition and extensive knowledge, he quickly bred several lab mice injected with diluted serum.
But even after repeatedly reducing the radiation levels in the blood, the poor creatures still couldn't last more than a few minutes before exploding into chunks of greenish flesh.
Repeated failures infuriated the self-important Dr. Sterns. He stubbornly believed the problem was insufficient initial data, so he demanded more details from Mr. Green; exposure levels, gamma concentration, cell saturation, etc.
But all the original experiment records had been sealed by the military... Banner couldn't access them. And due to his own lingering distrust, he kept refusing Mr. Blue's requests for an in-person meeting.
This drove Samuel into a frenzy. He believed he was genuinely trying to help, yet Mr. Green kept hiding things. It was infuriating!
"Idiot! I need more blood samples! More data!" He raged, flailing his arms wildly.
Without the original experiment records and precise measurements, Samuel couldn't replicate the conditions. Extracting a stable serum from the blood was nothing but a pipe dream!
<...I can help you. Bring the data. It's time we met...>
Mr. Blue sent the request again.
Samuel stared nervously at the computer screen, his greasy face and messy hair making him look like a mad scientist straight out of a movie.
<...Okay...>
After about ten minutes, Mr. Green finally replied.
Surprisingly, this time, he didn't refuse. He agreed to meet in person.
Samuel pumped his fist in excitement, his eyes gleaming with ambition. He could already see fame and fortune beckoning... the flood of accolades, standing on the stage in Stockholm, accepting the gleaming Nobel Prize...
...
Meanwhile, on the other end of the connection, Bruce Banner had secretly returned to Culver University in Virginia...
He closed his laptop quietly, his eyes heavy with the pain of his long, harrowing journey as a fugitive.
After the botched capture attempt in Brazil, he knew the military would never let him roam free. So even if it was risky, Banner had to meet Mr. Blue in person... he had to find a way to rid himself of the gamma radiation in his body.
"Betty…" The once-brilliant scientist, now at the lowest point of his life, could only whisper her name in despair...