38: One Percent Probability

For Lyon, understanding the cause of the problem and then working backward to find a solution is a very simple task, as long as the basic conditions are met.

Since it was confirmed that Natasha had indeed been subjected to mind control, and the method of control was some kind of chemical substance, the next step of reverse-engineering an inhibitor formula became straightforward.

Lyon used his brain, like a supercomputer, to rapidly simulate various plans and then handed them over to Jarvis for real-world simulation.

In just twenty minutes, he had created a vial of bright red counter-agent.

"Success rate of eighty-seven percent, right?" Lyon asked as he drew the agent into a syringe.

"Yes. According to the simulation, there is a twelve percent chance the agent won't work, and a one percent chance of a drug conflict leading to brain death," Jarvis replied.

"But that's the best that can be achieved with current medical technology," Lyon shrugged.

He looked at Natasha and said, "If conditions allowed, we should really conduct a Phase III randomized double-blind clinical trial—that's the proper procedure for drug development."

"But looking at the patient's condition, I doubt we have time to find volunteers and run the experiment so if something goes wrong, we'll just have to say 'Oops' and move on."

On the workbench, Natasha had already regained consciousness and was desperately trying to tear at the ropes binding her, attempting to resist.

Lyon, however, stood by unmoved, pushing the plunger on the syringe as a thin line of liquid emerged from the sharp needle.

"Stop struggling; it's time for the injection. Be careful not to break the needle."

"Besides, you tied me up once before, so now I'm tying you up. We're even."

"I'm sure Miss Natasha can understand that, right?"

He met Natasha's bloodshot, reddened eyes, ignoring the fact that her mouth was sealed with tape.

"Very well, our patient here has silently agreed. She chooses to accept the treatment."

"But please be mentally prepared," he said as he flicked the syringe, dispersing the air bubbles inside.

"After all, I'm just a makeshift doctor. While the drug might cause brain death, if it works, it works. Why worry so much? If anything goes wrong, it doesn't change anything for you as you are nothing but a tool for the red room and were already planning to commit suicide~"

In his previous life, Lyon used to be a man of few words.

However, after being influenced by Tony Stark for more than a decade, though he was still mostly that serious young man, in certain key moments, he would occasionally start talking a lot, just like Tony.

"The inhibitor needs to be injected into the arm. Do you want to take off your clothes, or should I tear off the sleeve?"

"Got it. Tear off the sleeve, right?"

Lyon tore off the hospital gown's sleeve, using his superior strength to keep the patient from moving, and applied alcohol to her pale arm.

"Alright, Natasha, now we're at the final stage. But since I'm not a mad scientist you have one second to decide whether you want to give up on the treatment."

"One! Time's up, you agreed to continue! Excellent!"

"But time is tight now, so you don't need to look for anyone to sign as a family member. If anything goes wrong, we'll directly cremate you and send your ashes back to the Red Room."

Natasha's eyes widened suddenly, and she mumbled something through her gag.

"Hmm? What are you saying? Are you perhaps saying you are a tough girl who doesn't need any anesthesia? Don't worry, we don't have any anesthesia prepared here anyway."

"I'm starting the injection!" Lyon casually jabbed the needle into Natasha's alcohol-treated arm.

The bright red drug was quickly injected into the "patient's" body.

"Okay! It's over. See, that wasn't painful, right? Our treatment process is incredibly short!"

"Now we need to apply pressure to the injection site to prevent bruising, but it seems you're a bit tied up, so I'll take care of it for now."

Lyon withdrew the empty syringe and pressed a cotton swab on Natasha's arm.

However, after placing the syringe back on the tray held by the robotic arm, he fell silent.

Instead, he watched Natasha with a slightly serious expression.

Lyon's thoughts at this moment were not as carefree as his words suggested.

He was simply contemplating.

Natasha, as one of the main characters in this world, was unlikely to fall into that 1% probability of fatality.

Moreover, the counter-agent he had developed was the best he could achieve at his current level.

Even if top doctors from around the world were gathered, they could at most reduce the fatality rate of the drug by a fraction of a percentage point, not much more.

The chemical substance in Natasha's body, when synthesized, probably wasn't even designed with an antidote in mind.

They wanted to create an unbreakable control drug after all.

In fact, compared to the life of the person being controlled, they were more concerned about the drug's resistance to being countered.

Those chemicals were hidden in the cytoplasm of Natasha's brain cells, and removing them would mean killing those brain cells.

This would lead to brain damage and put the controlled person at risk of death.

So, the fact that Lyon was able to create a suppressant was already a miracle.

As for the 1% chance of fatality, it was practically insignificant.

"It looks like the suppressant is already taking effect."

Lyon removed his gloves, applied disinfectant, and then took the disinfectant wipes handed to him by Dum-E, cleaning his hands thoroughly. He wasn't unhygienic after all. 

He looked at Natasha, whose expression quickly calmed, and silently prayed for her.

"Jarvis, if she really hit that 1% chance of brain death, would that be considered lucky or unlucky?" Lyon mused while waiting for the results.

"From a probability standpoint, hitting a 1% chance should be considered very lucky," Jarvis responded earnestly. "But in terms of the outcome, if it leads to death, that would be extremely unlucky."

"Your perspective is really objective."

Lyon remarked.

"But humans don't think like that. When disaster strikes them personally, even the smallest chance becomes a 100% nightmare, an absolute misfortune."

"This seems to be the way humans think," Jarvis noted. "I'll try to think like that more often in the future, Master Lyon."

"There's no need for that; mechanical thinking is your strength. Many young women are into that type now... Oh, Natasha's awake!"

Lyon noticed Natasha's silky eyelashes flutter slightly and quickly moved to the workstation, leaning in to observe.

Soon, Natasha opened her eyes, her amber pupils filled with confusion, her expression vacant.

But Lyon simply smiled, "That dazed look, that's it! Congratulations, Miss Natasha, the procedure was a success!"

The dazed expression indicated that Natasha's brain had already broken free from the chemical control.

All her scattered consciousness was gradually beginning to reintegrate.

However, it seemed that this reintegration process would take some time.

Lyon observed Natasha's changes, and as he did, he casually untied the ropes around her and removed the tape from her mouth.

!!

Unlike Lyon's joy, as soon as Natasha opened her eyes, she saw a face incredibly close to hers, scrutinizing her from left to right.

Her pupils instantly contracted, and her body reacted on instinct.

Freed from her restraints, she was now unbound.

Using her legs with incredible agility, she wrapped them around Lyon's solid waist. With a powerful motion of her arms, she rotated her entire body around him, applying a rear naked choke!

This was the result of over ten years of training and combat experience as a spy, manifesting as muscle memory.

After securing the choke, she instinctively applied pressure.

However, instead of the expected suffocation, Lyon showed no reaction. Her arms felt as if they were pressing against a block of diamond!

"Listen, even though you are cured and are, um, happy- probably(?), you don't need to hug me so tightly~"

Natasha froze for a moment, and in the next instant, fragmented memories flooded her mind.

Her expression became blank, her eyes unfocused.

It wasn't until Lyon reached out and lifted Natasha, placing her on the workbench, that she snapped back to reality.

"You... you saved me." Natasha looked at Lyon in front of her, her expression gradually becoming more complex.

Her hands rested awkwardly at her sides, and she slowly lowered her head. "What have I done..."

She had thought she would be under the control of the Red Room for the rest of her life, but unexpectedly, she found redemption in the hands of her mission target.

Now that her consciousness had returned, countless memories surged through her mind. She felt a mixture of remorse, hatred, and, above all, anxiety.

"Hmm.. Jarvis, It seems the patient is recovering well," Lyon said. "Yup, you are truly free now."

Hearing his words, Natasha was jolted awake.

Sitting on the workbench, she suddenly felt at a loss. "Thank you, thank you so much. No, I'm very sorry, what I just did... it was unintentional, a reflex. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. Are you hurt?"

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