Melting Pot Concept in Marvel

"Smart choice!"

Aaron offered Norman a faint smile of praise.

He stood up and patted Norman on the shoulder in a boss-to-employee manner, speaking with the gravity of someone who'd been there and done that:

"Norman, you're a clever man—you've just made the best possible decision. Trust me, in a few years, you'll definitely take pride in what you chose to do today. Actually, maybe you won't even need a year—could be just a month, or half a year."

"As long as you diligently work to develop the company for me—carry out my tasks—superhuman strength, a long lifespan, high status…you'll have them all!"

"Work hard from now on. I see a lot of potential in you, young man!"

"I'll give you everything you could ever dream of—and beyond anything you can imagine!"

Norman felt momentarily dazed. All those lines—aren't those what I usually say? Even that chair he's sitting in is mine!

"So then, boss…what are your orders?"

After a brief period of discomfort, Norman managed to force out the new title. Calling anyone 'boss' was a first for Norman Osborn—he was like a well-bred lady taking her first ride in a carriage.

Aaron pondered for a moment before replying:

"First, from now on, move the company headquarters over to Taiwan in the East. You could also do a dual-headquarters setup, but the one in New York can only be an important branch office. The HQ here must be moved to another city."

Norman, eyeing Aaron's distinctly asian features, could understand the first half of that statement, but the second half…

"Boss, may I ask why?"

Without hesitation, Aaron said, "For safety. This place is too dangerous. I don't want my tool—cough, I mean, my hard work—to get wrecked if some aliens show up one day."

Norman's brow twitched. He literally called it a tool—Oscorp is just a tool to him!

Their family's pride and joy, cherished like a shining pearl, was, in his eyes, nothing more than…some casual plaything. Damn it, the more I think about it, the more it makes me want to explode!

Still, Norman somewhat understood the logic: the U.S. wasn't safe, especially not New York, which was apparently the least safe place of all.

"Got it. I'll draw up a suitable plan," Norman nodded. The 'first blaze of the new regime'—he had to do it well.

"Second, you need to assemble a group of biology experts immediately and devote all resources to analyzing the reagent I gave you. Start mass-producing it as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I'll be emailing you a list of 'little items' I want. You'll need to mobilize all your corporate resources and personal connections to gather them for me ASAP."

With Oscorp's backing, even acquiring certain illegal items could be justified under scientific research—if anyone bothered to look into it, they'd likely turn a blind eye anyway.

Norman's eyes lit up. "I'll arrange it at once. We'll acquire whatever you need as quickly as possible!"

Aaron nodded, satisfied. Talking with a smart person was just easier—one sentence, and Norman immediately grasped the priorities: research was secondary, fulfilling Aaron's personal needs was the real priority. After all, Aaron was the boss.

"Third, there can only be one voice in the company! I don't care what methods you use, you have to deal with everyone else."

Aaron might not care about money, but that didn't mean he was willing to let some group of 'fat rats' share the pie. While Norman was technically in charge, in reality he was just the largest shareholder; if the other smaller shareholders joined forces, they could still oppose him—even attempt a boardroom coup if the situation were dire enough.

Norman was smart, but more of a scientist than a power broker, which was how the company once almost kicked him out when things got really bad—until he resorted to injecting the Green Goblin serum, dropping a few bombs, and sending those shareholders to meet their maker.

Realizing what Aaron was implying, Norman hesitated for a moment before making a "throat-slitting" gesture. "You mean…like that?"

Aaron rolled his eyes. "You're the major shareholder—I don't want any lingering trouble. After tonight, I want you to be the sole authority."

Norman felt a bit bitter. Fine. Now he was just a 'wage slave.' The boss gave orders, and he had to run around carrying them out. Great, so even in my old age I have to compete with the young…how encouraging.

Aaron gestured for Norman to come closer. Norman approached curiously, and Aaron placed a hand on his shoulder, silently thinking: Smelt Norman Osborn's hereditary disease.

In an instant, Norman felt something being drawn out of his body—his soul? His vitality? He couldn't be sure. It might've been his imagination, but he suddenly felt lighter, the fatigue from days of research was gone, and he felt strangely rejuvenated, as though his body had entered a 'second spring.'

"You can go now. From this point on, you no longer have to worry about your inherited illness cutting your life short."

Aaron waved dismissively.

"What? I'm…cured?!"

Norman's eyes widened. Just like that? The man simply laid a hand on him, and he was healed. What kind of power was this?

"You expected something else? You want me to cut you open on an operating table or something? It was a minor issue—easy-peasy!"

"…"

Feeling dazed, Norman walked out of the lab, encountering security guards and overtime staff along the way. They greeted him with "Boss," and he could only sigh helplessly. He couldn't tell whether he was lamenting his final day as the owner of this place, or lamenting how half his life of struggle couldn't compare to Aaron's miraculous ability with a single touch. Maybe both.

Outside, Norman looked up at the sky. The sun was almost setting, yet to him it seemed vibrant, like a sunrise. Silently, he repeated the name "Aaron" in his mind.

He knew that from this day on, his life had undergone a profound transformation. Whether his future was an abyss or paradise depended on that mysterious Eastern man—Aaron!

After Norman left, Aaron also departed from Oscorp. He had no fear that Norman might renege and flee; if Aaron wanted to find him, no matter where Norman ran—even to the ends of the earth or the depths of the ocean—he wouldn't be able to escape.