Chapter 20: Trading and Flicker

Zod invited Norman Osborn into the biological laboratory, leading him through a long, brightly lit corridor. The passage was flanked by glass panels illuminated by tubes, casting a sterile glow throughout. At either end of the corridor stood massive doors made from 50 mm-thick secondary Krypton gold alloy. Norman couldn't discern whether there was any deeper significance to the lighting or the passage itself.

Little did Norman know, Zod had recreated this 10-meter-long passage as a homage to the infamous laser corridor from Resident Evil—a piece of Zod's personal amusement. While the application of laser weaponry in the real world had limitations, due to energy consumption and material constraints, this was the Marvel universe. With Kryptonian technology at his disposal, Zod had managed to replicate the laser tunnel, complete with secondary Krypton gold that could cut clean through metal.

Once they entered the biological lab, four guards stood at attention, each of them modified through bioengineering—animalized soldiers—the lab's last line of defense.

"Mr. Osborn, thank you for coming," Zod said, gesturing for Norman to take a seat. Norman hesitated only briefly before sitting down, his gaze sweeping the room.

"I won't waste your time. Let's get straight to the point," Zod continued.

Norman appreciated Zod's directness. With his health rapidly declining, every second was precious. He hadn't come because he was curious—Zod had mentioned something about the curse that plagued the Osborn family, a curse that Norman couldn't ignore.

"I can cure the retrocellular hyperplasia that's been passed down in your family," Zod stated plainly.

Norman's expression remained neutral. He wasn't surprised by Zod's knowledge of his condition. Still, he maintained his composure.

"What do you want?" Norman asked.

"I want Osborne Industries and control over the Osborn family," Zod replied with a smile. He was holding all the cards and knew it. If Norman refused, Zod could simply wait for him to die and then approach Harry Osborn, who would be far more desperate and less cunning than his father.

Norman's face darkened at the audacity of Zod's demand. He had anticipated negotiations but hadn't expected Zod to ask for so much.

"Don't rush to reject me," Zod said, his tone calm. "You know this is your only chance. When you die, Harry will follow in your footsteps. And when the vultures—your shareholders—begin to circle, they won't let Harry maintain control of Osborne Industries. You have one opportunity, Norman."

Norman's stoic demeanor hid the turmoil inside him. Zod's words struck deep because they were true. He was running out of time, and his son Harry, though brave, would be no match for the corporate sharks circling Osborne Industries. Without a cure, the Osborn family was doomed to the same fate.

"What do you need Osborne Industries and my family for?" Norman asked, reluctant but realistic. He couldn't afford to let pride dictate his decisions.

"Have you heard of the World Serpent?" Zod asked cryptically, beginning to weave his tale.

Zod explained the World Serpent as a secret organization, active in the shadows since World War I. Its mission? World domination. It was the archetype of a simple, but unrelenting villainous group, and according to Zod, he had recently been appointed as the North American director. The organization, though vast, was still relatively weak in North America, and Zod needed Osborne Industries to solidify his power base.

Norman listened with skepticism. This all sounded like a far-fetched conspiracy. But when Zod ordered the animalized soldiers in the lab to transform, Norman's skepticism wavered. Right before his eyes, the guards underwent grotesque but controlled transformations, their bodies expanding with enhanced muscle and fur as they morphed into beast-like forms.

"They are animalized soldiers," Zod explained. "After acquiring Captain America's Super Soldier Serum, we were able to create this controllable super animal serum. It enhances the physical capabilities of humans tenfold, and this is just the basic form. There are even more powerful versions of these soldiers."

Norman, as a scientist deeply involved in biotechnology and the super-soldier serum, grasped the gravity of Zod's statement. Creating a controllable super-soldier had been the holy grail of bioengineering for decades. The Super Animal Serum represented a massive leap forward—one that required vast amounts of time, experimentation, and resources to achieve. Yet here, Zod had seemingly done it.

The implications were staggering. For decades, Osborne Industries had struggled to advance their version of the super-soldier serum, making little headway. Yet, before him stood the finished product.

"This serum isn't the cure you're offering, is it?" Norman asked cautiously.

"Of course not," Zod responded. "The Super Animal Serum is a biological weapon—an augmentation tool. It's not a cure for genetic diseases. However, those who undergo the transformation will have enhanced immune systems and physical functions, making them immune to most diseases."

The offer was clear: not only could Zod cure the Osborn family's genetic condition, but he also offered the prospect of unparalleled power in the form of bioengineered super-soldiers.

Norman, still processing everything, asked the obvious question: "What happens if I join this World Snake?"

Zod chuckled. "Join? Oh, no, Norman. You're not a member yet. My deal with you is simple—curing your family's genetic disorder. To become a full-fledged member of World Snake requires far more than that."

Norman's face remained neutral, though inside he was already convinced. Zod had shown him enough to believe in the organization's existence. After all, no one could survive this long in the shadows without the resources and planning of a massive organization.

"What will I gain if I join?" Norman pressed further.

"That will come later," Zod replied. "For now, let's focus on saving your life."

Zod led Norman through a full-body scan, intrigued by the condition that had stumped even the brightest minds in Marvel's universe. He had to admit, retrocellular hyperplasia was an interesting case—one that neither Reed Richards nor Tony Stark had solved, likely because Norman hadn't asked them for help. Otherwise, it might've been a problem those two could've fixed.

After completing the scan, Zod smirked. He had found the key to the Osborn family's curse.

"Go home, Norman," Zod said confidently. "In a few days, you'll be cured."