Melting Pot Concept in Marvel

"That's impossible!!"

Norman Osborn's eyes were bloodshot, like an enraged bull. "Oscorp is the crown jewel built by my family through generations of hard work. Even if you really can cure my genetic illness, I'll never hand it over to you!"

"And besides…"

"As you can see, I'm just one step away from success!"

"Once I solve the remaining flaws, I'll have a superhuman body—perfect and powerful. Even you…would be no match for me by then!"

Norman was supremely confident. Captain America had already proven how powerful a human enhanced to the peak could be. And in Norman's view, his own enhancement formula was superior to the serum injected into Captain America back in the day. He was convinced he would become the strongest super-soldier.

Hearing this, Aaron simply laughed, eventually doubling over in mirth.

"Let me laugh for a bit…unless I can't hold it in—ahaha!"

"Norman, you're very sure of yourself, but you'll pay a price for that confidence."

Shaking his head in amusement, Aaron continued, "Your formula has severe side effects, far worse than you imagine!"

"In addition to violent tendencies, the serum can influence the deepest corners of one's psyche, combining with negative emotions to create a secondary, monstrous personality."

"It amplifies your negative feelings, driving you to commit crimes. Once you spiral too far into darkness, it takes over your body and turns you into a madman who only knows destruction."

"Think about it. If I didn't warn you, and you managed to fix the aggression issue, only to inject yourself with the serum in high spirits… What do you think would happen next?"

"And think of your family's legacy—and your child!"

Norman was about to reject what he was hearing, but at the mention of his child, his expression flickered. If Aaron was telling the truth, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"Who are you, exactly? And how do you know about the serum's side effects?"

"Nothing escapes these eyes of mine." Aaron tapped his unusually clear, bright eyes. Then he went on, voice low:

"I also know your serum includes part of the formula from the Super-Soldier Serum that created Captain America."

"But not everyone is Captain America, whose heart was full of justice and light, able to overcome evil and darkness."

"Thanks to your modifications, it's become even more dangerous, potentially spawning a green-skinned 'Green Goblin'—a hideous Goblin, you might say?"

"Hmm. Now that I think of it, you and Harry would make a fine 'Goblin family.'"

"No!!"

Norman Osborn did not want to believe it. Yet Aaron had no reason to lie. A simple test on some random subject would confirm the side effects. All his blood, sweat, and tears—the very formula he'd poured so much work into—had turned out to carry such a terrifying drawback.

If he injected himself and gave in to this evil personality, he might inject Harry as well. Then—damn it, that was impossible to accept!

"Actually…Oscorp…" Norman faltered; he was clearly wavering. But he still couldn't decide. After all, this was Oscorp, a company so big it once rivaled Stark Industries. Even though Tony Stark becoming Iron Man and Norman's own frenzied spending on various projects had caused major financial strain—and Oscorp was currently headed downhill—it was still worth billions of dollars.

There was no way he'd just give that up. Unless he'd gone insane, he'd sooner jump off this hundred-story building than hand over everything.

"I can give you partial authority in the company and some shares—"

Aaron raised his hand to cut him off. Standing, he picked up a test tube.

"And that is…?" Norman frowned at the sight of the blue liquid. Somehow, it looked familiar.

"I made this. It's a healing reagent that can repair human tissue."

"Have you ever played video games? Think of this as the 'red potion' or 'healing potion.' It speeds up a person's metabolism, quickens recovery. If someone's injured, drinking or injecting this will help them heal quickly."

"Even if a major artery is cut, as long as the injection is timely and enough in quantity, they can escape death's grasp."

"How much do you think something like this is worth?"

Norman stared at the small test tube in awe, pondering carefully before speaking with grave seriousness. "At least several billion dollars. It's a life-saving wonder drug—potentially useful in surgeries and countless other scenarios. If it can be mass-produced, it'll be a worldwide sensation! Its true value would still require further study, of course. But you're trying to—?"

Suddenly, Norman understood.

"In addition to this healing reagent, I can produce beauty serums, anti-aging treatments, limb-regeneration formulas, anti-cancer drugs… Anything you can think of. If I can't do it yet, give me time—and I will."

"I have only one condition: Oscorp belongs to me, operating strictly under my will."

"I'll bring these products out one by one. You can research and mass-produce them. Given a working prototype, I imagine duplicating it won't be hard for you."

Aaron placed the test tube in front of Norman and spoke coolly. In truth, that vial was derived from a failed serum he'd 'acquired' in the lab. After smelting it, he extracted only the regenerative component and greatly weakened it. So while injecting it wouldn't enhance someone's physical abilities or cause side effects, it would temporarily boost metabolism and provide a crucial burst of energy. It was essentially a "health potion" from a game, but even that alone would be enough to drive people mad. In some ways, it was a miracle cure.

In the normal world he'd come from, such a product would spark massive competition. It would be easy to build a multibillion-dollar empire around it. Here in the Marvel Universe, it would still be in huge demand, but Aaron had his sights set higher.

He wanted a fully intact Oscorp at his command—an extension of his will—so that it could gather items for him from around the world. Nor did he want to spend time personally running it; Norman Osborn would serve as his workhorse.

Norman still hesitated, but Aaron, clearly assured of his plan, simply closed his eyes and waited for the man's answer. Norman was no fool; he knew how to choose.

Sure enough, after a while of wavering—and thinking about his son Harry waiting after school—Norman finally made up his mind.

"I…agree!"

~~~

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