The meeting fell into a brief silence again.
Fury said cautiously: "The warden realizes...?"
Banner: "...?"
He felt that there seemed to be some misunderstanding between them.
Banner opened his mouth: "Mr. Warden didn't explain the reason, he just sent a lot of relevant materials—I don't have much to do anyway, as you can see, I'm a prisoner."
Hearing this, Fury frowned slightly. Given his frowning appearance most of the time, perhaps no one would have noticed this.
"Dr. Banner, S.H.I.E.L.D. is in communication with General Ross. Regarding the Hulk, I think that with our joint efforts—plus Mr. Stark, the technical advisor of the Avengers, I think this is not unsolvable." The problem."
Banner looked at Fury for a while, looked down at his prison uniform, and suddenly smiled slightly: "But Mr. Director, I think this problem has been resolved."
He spread his hands: "Mr. Warden's description of this incident is rather vague, I think he may not... But Mr. Stark has already explained the matter to me, and I almost understand your guesses."
Fury didn't answer, but obviously knew what he was going to say.
"As long as I don't leave the confines of the prison—according to Mr. Stark's speculation, that's the part inside the wall." Banner paused, his voice was a little soft, and although he didn't show anything on his face, everyone present could I can guess what he means.
"It won't let that big guy have a chance."
Fury frowned. "Doctor, you're not just a threat to the world, you know that."
"I used to think so," Banner replied.
For a while no one could answer.
Not many people have gone through this, from revered scholar to talking monster, but the struggle and resistance is easy to imagine.
Stark was the first to break the silence and cleared his throat: "About the test that the warden asked us to conduct..."
Fury's attention was indeed attracted.
Stark: "I have no idea."
Fury and Banner: "…"
Stark poked Banner next to him: "But I have a little suggestion for your question."
Fury: "Don't do that."
Banner was slightly startled, and asked suspiciously, "What is it?"
"You don't have to be so unfamiliar, you can call my name Tony." Stark spread his hands.
Fury: "... Enough. What kind of tests did the Warden ask you to take?"
Stark and Banner glanced at each other and thought for a while: "Actually, I don't know what his purpose is—the question we need to clarify is, under the suppression of superpowers in the prison, can we still be able to... not die? ?”
The people present looked at each other.
If you want to know the answer to this question, there is a well-known and simple way, but if the conclusion is no, Dr. Banner will be cold.
"To be honest, both the warden and Rose have given me permission to take Banner out of prison occasionally," Stark said helplessly, "but this research must be done in prison, and it's impossible—you know Batman The soil of that field has been drilled almost down to the regolith, and the source of the problem in this area has not been found."
Batman: "…"
He was silent for a while, and said calmly: "The computer has already told me that the soil detector encountered a foreign object in the regolith. According to the analysis, it is the product of Stark technology."
Stark: "Analysis is still needed? I also know it's you."
"..." Fury didn't expect that he would have to be a peacemaker. "Okay gentlemen—so Stark, what are you going to say to the warden?"
"The doctor means to let me tell Mr. Warden that his life safety will not be threatened," Stark shrugged, "in order to find out why the warden wants to know this."
This is obviously not entirely true.
But it was Banner who came up with it himself.
After disconnecting from the meeting, Stark looked at the sky outside: "You can spend the night here."
"But I might turn into the Hulk when I have nightmares," Banner replied.
Stark froze.
"Just kidding," Banner shrugged, "I don't have nightmares, I'm already in one."
Stark fell silent, but the sigh didn't suit him.
In the prison at the same time, Zhang Dianyu was writing comments on Peter's internship experience.
He wasn't sure if he was seriously writing a review of Peter's school, or adding a page to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s undercover assignment, but he did.
Of course, Zhang Dianyu is not a meticulous and honest person. In his comments, he praised Peter as a potential president, so that Peter blushed when he flipped through the pages, and stammered, "Dian...Mr. Warden..."
Zhang Dianyu showed a dangerous smile, and patted the boy on the shoulder: "Don't say anything."
It took him half an hour to write this comment. If Peter said he was not qualified and wanted Zhang Dianyu to rewrite it, things would be serious.
Peter was too moved to refuse: "Okay, thank you, Mr. Warden."
Considering that Peter will leave the prison next week, Zhang Dianyu had a rare kindness: "You have done well enough."
Peter couldn't help holding the comment to his chest in a girlish posture.
Zhang Dianyu: "..."
After Peter left, Zhang Dianyu had nothing to do, glanced at the sofa next to him, and reopened the mini-map.
He has also been sleeping on the sofa for a month, taking cold showers, and wearing the same suit—since he finds that he has no way to log out, maybe he can beautify his living environment a little
For example, the pot of cactus in the hall, it has stabbed more than a dozen people coming and going, even Zhang Dianyu himself and Stark were not spared, it is time to find a home for it.
If it weren't for the fear that the clown would use it as a weapon, Zhang Dianyu would have stuffed the cactus into the clown's cell long ago.
I have to say that this pot of cactus is definitely more powerful than the pen that the clown has recently favored.
Zhang Dianyu looked at the map that gradually became tense.
Obviously just bought the land, but suddenly there is no vacant space—as for the courtyard that was originally planned to expand, Zhang Dianyu has already canceled the plan in this regard.
Since he found that the small courtyard would reduce the prisoners' desire to fight, he planned to keep this courtyard.
Ventilation does not necessarily have to allow the wind to penetrate the human wall. Zhang Dianyu even withdrew his guards—there was no need for the prisoners to be on duty when they were crowded like that. Every afternoon now, the courtyard is like a box of sardines.
But it's a good thing not to die.
Now there is only a small row of open space at the bottom of the psychiatric ward. Zhang Dianyu looked at the workers in the staff dormitory. After a day's work, only a few people rested on the beds, and the others just wandered around the room.
Unlike the prisoners, they at least find themselves something to do according to the system's arrangement-these employees will sleepwalk within the prescribed range as long as they are free.
And Mr. Warden, who has no bed to rest, for example, will go to the lounge to face the wall when he is still hanging up the phone.
And what Zhang Dianyu has to solve now is this problem.
Now everyone in the prison has a mobile phone, at least everyone has a bed to rest-only him, the warden himself, no!
He was almost moved by his noble sentiments.
Since the workers had nothing to do, Zhang Dianyu decided to let them build a new office building under the psychiatric ward overnight, and let the tool workers, accountants, lawyers, security supervisors and psychiatrists move there. A psychiatrist for companionship.
The original office building can be transformed into the personal residence of the warden.
From then on, Zhang Dianyu was the one who had a place to sleep.
With good expectations for the future, Zhang Dianyu carefully planned the office area for the employees. Obviously, the office should not be too wasteful. They don't know how to enjoy it anyway. It is still a small 4x4 grid with a larger lounge in the middle, so that they can recover their physical strength immediately and return to work.
A few hours later, it was already late at night, and the prisoners were forced to return to the dormitory. Only the guards who occasionally escorted the prisoners back to the cell after the confinement was over, and the 24-hour staff were left on the path.
In fact, Zhang Dianyu didn't understand why his chef was still cooking on the stove in the middle of the night.
He even saw a lone gardener and another guard in a gardener's uniform on the piece of land opposite that he bought for planting trees. Both of them were planting trees in silence.
If it wasn't a game, one might suspect they were burying bodies in the middle of the night.
Zhang Dianyu shook his head and put the matter behind him.
Looking at the newly renovated office building, he always felt that the lounge was too big. In order to prevent several executives from going back to the dormitory to sleep in person, he decided to do another good deed by installing a few beds in the enclosed lounge in the middle of their office.
Rest on the spot, work on the spot.
After completing these tasks, Zhang Dianyu swept the entire prison as usual before closing the game panel.
He still remembered that Stark sent Banner back to the morgue as promised a few hours ago, and then left alone. The Hulk arrest team, which was approved by Ross, had withdrawn a few days ago. After Dr. Banner returned to the cell, the guards took off the handcuffs.
But there are still a few people awake in the cell, all prisoners.
This is not within the prohibited behavior of the prison - can Zhang Dianyu still prohibit prisoners from insomnia
But the problem is that Insomnia is on the bottom layer of their status bar, and there are a few prominent orange characters on the top that indicate their identity—criminal mental patients.
In other words, during this period of time, there were several more mental illnesses caused by excessive stress in the prison.
Zhang Dianyu pulled the map to look at his other character, Saike Stone.
He was still sleeping on the same bed that Zhang Dianyu used to go to, and he slept very soundly - beside him stood a meticulous pixel guard, who was constantly watching the abettors according to Zhang Dianyu's instructions. trend.
He couldn't help but feel the difference in psychological quality.
Zhang Dianyu looked again at Dr. Banner who was sleeping peacefully in the morgue.
Although it will take a year and a half to apply for a degree—this is still the plan he made for Dr. Banner, and it is far from so fast for ordinary people—but right now the prison is in great need of a psychiatrist, even if it is barely , is better than nothing.
Mentality is more important.