DRIP. The glass door sprang open.
At the same time, an emotionless female voice announced from inside, "Welcome home, Little Mike. It is now January 24th, 2001, 11:27:35 AM."
Simultaneously, a small mechanical wheelchair appeared in the doorway.
"This is my mother's voice, which I synthesized from memory. I hoped that the sound would stimulate my body to secrete some unknown substances related to emotions. Unfortunately, this method was useless."
Little Mike's expression remained indifferent, showing neither disappointment nor dissatisfaction, merely explaining the matter calmly.
Dean glanced at him and placed him in the electric wheelchair.
This device was well-crafted and seemed newly purchased, unlike what Dean had imagined.
What came into view was a cozy little room with a bed, chairs, and a fireplace. It looked like a habitable toolroom and had a large table against one wall.
Beneath the table, steps led directly up, apparently allowing Little Mike to reach the tabletop easily.
On the wooden table was a very compact yet seemingly precise assembly line 'model' with an electric brake and numerous material inlets.
If it weren't so miniature, one would almost believe it to be a real processing assembly line.
Additionally, on the wall above the wooden table hung a family portrait of three.
In the picture, Mike Smith and an unfamiliar woman held an infant, only a couple of months old, smiling sweetly at the camera. It was a heartwarming scene.
At first glance, Dean's attention was captured by the model on the table!
That familiar design!!!
He forcibly suppressed the astonishment and suspicion in his heart and casually asked, "What about the invention you mentioned?"
Little Mike, oblivious to the tumult in Dean's heart, pointed to the model on the table. "This is a set of extraction equipment. Just input the corresponding materials, and you can obtain a very unique additive. I call it Intoxication!"
As he spoke, he showed a rare expression that seemed like disappointment:
"Research is a difficult and luck-dependent matter. This is the only thing in my research that can trigger my simulated perception of emotions, and it has minimal side effects. Unfortunately, with use, it continuously damages the brain.
"So, I sold this substance through the dark web to a group in Mexico in exchange for a significant amount of knowledge. This substance is actually similar to some neurological drugs; its only advantage is being cheap. I don't know why those people were so desperate to find me back then.
"For safety reasons, I never engaged in such transactions again."
FUCK! FUCKING FUCK! Intoxication was actually invented by the little guy in front of him!
Dean could no longer suppress the emotional turmoil caused by his shock. He lifted Little Mike high, looking up at him, and said tenderly, "Mr. Little Mike, I think you need a very good partner!"
From now on, Little Mike was his treasure! Whoever covets him dies!
Little Mike looked down at Dean, who currently resembled a 'Refining Copper' maniac, his expression indifferent. "A partner? Can it not be a companion? All the books and films I've read and watched say that a companion is much closer than a partner."
Dean said, "...Sorry, I've said it before, I only like women. Besides, people's hearts may change, but interests don't. In my view, a relationship of equivalent exchange, where you help me and I help you, is what lasts."
Little Mike looked at Dean and blinked. "That aligns with my thinking. I think I like you even more now."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the sentiment. May I ask how many things you've invented and hold patents for?"
"Patents?" Little Mike shook his head.
"I don't understand the concept of restricting human behavior with something so intangible, so I don't care about such laws. As for my inventions, apart from the crude formula for Intoxication that I sold, there are two others.
"One can cause certain areas to become engorged with blood. However, consuming too much can make the heart beat very fast, and giving it to older people might make it an effective poison.
"The other is a plant extract with significant anesthetic effects that can also produce hallucinations. I often use it to enter deep sleep. I estimate you could trade it for a considerable sum of money."
After Little Mike finished speaking, Dean said with righteous indignation, "Little Mike, taking such potent things out into the world is dangerous; it tempts people to commit crimes and isn't safe.
"How about this: show me the formula for that mild poison that causes engorgement in certain areas. Perhaps with some modifications, it could be used for rat poison or something."
"Alright. In that case, I need a suitable caregiver to look after me. It would be best if it were you, as I don't enjoy talking to people stupider than myself."
"Agreed!" Dean immediately consented.
Although he didn't understand why a child would research such potent substances, Dean knew one thing: he had struck it rich!