Funds Frozen

After watching for a while, Obadiah continued walking towards the central area of ​​the laboratory.

The central area doesn't have individual laboratories; it's more of an area for compiling experimental data, and Obadiah's people are also here.

"Hello, Mr. Obadiah!" Upon seeing Obadiah arrive, the researchers employed by him immediately stood up to greet him, a stark contrast to the researchers brought by Dr. Zola from Rumlow.

These researchers wore strange metal blocks on their heads. They were very serious about their work, but they didn't like to talk and had little expression.

If Obadiah hadn't spoken with them and found everything to be normal, and hadn't discovered that they also used the toilet, he would have suspected they were robots.

However, they naturally wouldn't be very enthusiastic towards Obadiah. At most, they would stop to see what was wrong with him when Obadiah called out to them.

After a few visits, Obadiah got used to it and ignored them unless necessary, only asking his own researchers.

"Any recent progress? Are those test subjects stable? Can you produce a finished product?"

"The data is currently stable, but the stress test results are not ideal. The genes of the previous test subject began to collapse after three minutes of high-intensity stress after exceeding the limits of normal human beings."

"Three minutes? That's too short," Obadiah sighed, then looked around to make sure no one was paying attention before asking in a low voice.

"Have you memorized all this data, or can you replicate these experiments?"

Although it was agreed that experimental data would be shared and that the other party would not use it for commercial purposes, some things still needed to be kept in our own hands, which is why Obama wanted to bring his own people in.

"No problem, sir. They didn't hide anything. We've seen all the experimental data and made backups." As he spoke, he took out a data disk and handed it to Obadiah.

Obadiah took the data disk, nodded, and said, "Work hard and try to stabilize this as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir. Dr. Zola has a new idea recently, saying that a project will be successful soon, which will enable the rapid weaponization of dogs."

"Very good!"

Obadiah didn't bother asking his own people for details, and probably couldn't explain it clearly anyway. He'd gotten used to it over time, and the researchers he'd found were far inferior to Dr. Zola.

So he went straight to the control room, intending to ask Dr. Zola himself.

Pushing open the control room door, the lights inside came on, and then screens lit up one by one, each small screen displaying real-time monitoring of a laboratory.

The large screen in the center lit up, and a huge green head looked at Obadiah and spoke.

"Mr. Obadiah, is there anything I can help you with?"

The green guy is Dr. Zola, someone who remotely controls all the projects in the lab, no one knows where he is.

"Zora, my researcher just said that a project is on the verge of success. Is the effect stable?"

Zola's mechanical voice came from the speaker.

"That's right, this is the project information." Zola's voice trailed off.

On the big screen, Zola's image transformed into numbers, which then turned into a project report.

Obadiah's eyes lit up as he looked at the report. Although it wasn't the human enhancement he wanted most, it was still a good product that could be sold. He could then ask the military for an exorbitant price, and his funding problem would be solved.

"When will mass production begin?" Obadiah asked, suppressing his excitement.

"One last experiment is needed to determine the effects, duration, and scope of use," Zola's mechanical voice sounded again.

"Then let's get started quickly," Obadiah urged.

Zola didn't reply. The screen flickered, the project report turned into an account balance, and the prices of various experimental consumables were displayed next to it.

"Insufficient funds to purchase enough consumables for the experiment." Zola's cold voice finally rang out.

Obadiah looked at the clearly priced experimental supplies. There were test subjects aged ten, twenty, and thirty, not to mention various age groups, as well as those with different physical indicators. The prices varied, with the most expensive being a twenty-five or twenty-six-year-old with no illnesses and no history of using enhancement agents.

I'd never bought Obadiah before, and I never imagined this material could be sold on the market like metal. Although the price per unit isn't high, it's used a lot.

Along the way, we've lost several, especially since the experimental subjects that require control experiments cost at least a pair each.

In contrast, the computers and other experimental equipment that Zola wanted were much cheaper. Obadiah thought this was perfectly normal and didn't realize that this was not like Stark's experiments with satellites or smart weapons, which didn't require so many computers. He was being paid by Zola without working.

If Obama had been anxious yesterday, the funds that just arrived today gave him confidence, and he said magnanimously.

"Money is no problem, I'll transfer the funds to you tomorrow. Let's get the experiment moving forward as soon as possible."

Zola originally planned to minimize the negative publicity and give Obama some time to raise money, since they might become colleagues in the future, and she didn't want him to be too greedy.

But hearing Obama's confidence, I'll be even more determined to upgrade my RAM tomorrow. However, looking at my shopping list, I can't help but sigh.

"The consumables are a bit expensive. When I was doing experiments, these were all free. Although the variety was limited, there were all sorts of them."

Obadiah heard a hint of nostalgia in Zola's mechanical voice.

The next day, Obadiah heard some terrible news early in the morning.

"What do you mean my account is suspected of being involved in a terrorist attack and has been frozen?"

The staff on the other end were also quite helpless, after all, they were a big client, but they still patiently explained.

"The other party came directly to the head office with the documents and completed the freezing procedures. We don't know the specifics, but the funds are now being held by the other party."

"Which organization, the CIA or the FBI, tell me!" Obadiah demanded angrily.

"That's not something I can know the answer to. I suggest you go to the head office and ask them."

Obadiah knew that the account manager who called him had very low authority and might not know the truth, so he simply hung up the phone and started investigating through his own connections.

The CIA wasn't involved, the FBI wasn't involved, and we've contacted people in courts, police, and even the military in various places, but no one knows who detained them.

Obadiah then contacted his friend at the bank, but all he knew was that the friend had taken over the account funds directly with the documents. Only the supervisor in charge at the time knew who had issued the order, but the supervisor could no longer be contacted and was restricted from moving around.

Just then, Rumlow called.

"Mr. Obadiah, Dr. Zola is asking when the project funds will be transferred. Everything else is ready, just waiting for the funds to arrive."

Obadiah then remembered the powerful organization behind Rumlow and said anxiously.

"My account has been frozen, and I don't know which department did it. Can you help me unfreeze it? The project funds are all in the account."

Rumlow asked curiously, "Frozen? Why?"

"They say it's related to terrorists. By the way, this account has financial dealings with the Ten Rings Gang, but it's been redirected multiple times, so it shouldn't be traced," Obadiah told the truth in his plea for help.

Rumlow wasn't too concerned about the truth; he was just asking so he could report to his superiors, and then he spoke.

"Don't worry, there's nothing we can't find out. I'll report to my superiors, and the funds will be unfrozen soon."