Drex Valen personally escorted Norman Osborn into Blade Tech's biological research division.
The approach alone felt deliberate.
A long, sterile corridor stretched ahead, brilliantly illuminated by rows of white industrial lighting sealed behind reinforced glass walls. Every inch gleamed with unnerving precision.
At both ends stood fifty-millimeter-thick secondary alloy blast doors.
Norman's sharp mind immediately noted the excess.
Why such extreme security?
What exactly was this corridor designed for?
He didn't realize he was walking through one of Drex's darker indulgences.
The ten-meter passage was, in essence, a real-world reconstruction of the infamous laser corridor from Resident Evil.
In conventional reality, such a system would have been absurdly impractical due to power consumption and material limitations.
But this was Marvel's Earth.
And Drex possessed Kryptonian engineering.
The result was a functioning laser defense system capable of slicing even secondary alloy apart.
Norman had unknowingly just walked through a mechanized death trap.
Inside the laboratory proper, four guards stood motionless.
Perfectly still.
Perfectly disciplined.
They were Beast Soldiers.
And the final line of defense.
"Mr. Osborn," Drex said smoothly, gesturing toward a seat. "Welcome."
Norman carefully surveyed the room before sitting.
His instincts screamed caution.
"I'd rather not waste time," Drex continued. "So let's move directly to the point."
Norman appreciated that.
His condition was worsening.
Every passing day made mortality feel less theoretical.
If Drex hadn't specifically referenced the Osborn family curse, Norman would never have left his own laboratories.
Drex's next words landed like a hammer strike.
"I can cure your family's hereditary Retroviral Hyperplasia Syndrome."
No theatrics.
No buildup.
Just brutal clarity.
Norman didn't visibly react, though internally, alarms blazed.
He had no idea how Drex knew.
But clearly...
He knew enough.
"What do you want?"
Norman remained composed.
A claim wasn't proof.
But such an offer would never come free.
Drex smiled faintly.
"I want Osborn Industries."
A pause.
"And the Osborn family."
For the first time, Norman's expression darkened.
That price exceeded even his worst assumptions.
Drex, however, remained calm.
"Don't reject it too quickly," he said.
"You're running out of time."
"If you die, Harry inherits the same curse. So will his children."
"Your bloodline remains condemned."
"And Osborn Industries?"
"Do you really believe shareholders will allow Harry to retain control?"
"You have one opportunity, Norman."
"One."
Silence stretched.
Norman's mind raced.
Drex was right.
This wasn't a negotiation between profit margins.
It was a choice between extinction and survival.
"What do you want with my company... and my family?"
Norman asked carefully.
He wasn't ready to surrender.
But he needed answers.
And despite all his ruthlessness, brute force suddenly felt dangerous.
Drex had laid his cards on the table too confidently.
That implied hidden power.
"Norman," Drex said, voice lowering, "have you ever heard of World Serpent?"
And so...
The performance began.
According to Drex's carefully crafted narrative:
World Serpent was a vast clandestine organization founded during World War I.
For over a century, it had operated in the shadows, influencing global events.
Its purpose?
World domination.
Simple.
Direct.
No ideological clutter.
Just power.
Drex positioned himself as North America's newly appointed executive leader, currently requiring Osborn's resources to strengthen his foothold.
Norman was skeptical.
Until Drex revealed the Beast Soldiers.
At Drex's command, the four guards transformed.
Bones shifted.
Muscles expanded.
Monstrous hybrid forms emerged.
Norman Osborn, one of the greatest scientific minds in the world, was left genuinely shaken.
"These," Drex explained, "are Beast Soldiers."
"After acquiring Captain America's Super Soldier Serum decades ago, World Serpent used it as a foundation to develop controllable Super Beast Serum."
"Their physical capabilities exceed normal humans by approximately tenfold."
"And these are merely our lowest-tier operatives."
Norman's scientific mind immediately understood the implications.
This wasn't speculative science.
This wasn't unstable experimentation.
This was a completed, controlled super-soldier platform.
Something Osborn Industries had failed to achieve.
Something governments would kill for.
Something civilization itself could be reshaped by.
Beast Soldiers.
Super Beast Serum.
Advanced evolutionary bioengineering.
For the first time...
Norman truly began believing.
Because this level of achievement couldn't be faked.
Not without unimaginable resources, infrastructure, research, and time.
"Your cure..." Norman said slowly.
"You don't mean this serum?"
Drex gave him a look that bordered on amused disappointment.
"Of course not."
"Super Beast Serum is biological enhancement."
"Disease treatment is entirely different."
"It's not magic."
Norman felt mildly foolish.
Still, Drex continued:
"Although enhanced Beast Soldiers possess vastly improved immunity and biological resilience."
That much was true.
By now, Norman's skepticism had eroded significantly.
Every piece of evidence fit together with unnerving logic.
And the parts that didn't...
His own mind filled in.
"If I join World Serpent," Norman asked carefully, "what do I gain?"
Drex shut that down immediately.
"Join?"
He almost laughed.
"No, Norman."
"You misunderstand."
"Our agreement is strictly transactional."
"I cure your bloodline."
"You surrender Osborn Industries."
"That does not make you one of us."
"World Serpent membership is... considerably harder to earn."
Norman nodded.
His pride took a hit.
But paradoxically...
That exclusivity made World Serpent seem even more legitimate.
Soon after, Drex initiated a full biological examination.
He was deeply curious about Retroviral Hyperplasia Syndrome.
In a world overflowing with absurd super-science, the fact that this disease remained unresolved fascinated him.
Though, in truth, Norman's failure to consult Reed Richards or Tony Stark remained the more practical oversight.
Either likely could have solved it eventually.
As Drex scanned Norman's cellular structure, the mystery rapidly unraveled.
He understood.
At last.
Norman redressed.
Drex's expression remained unreadable.
"Go home," he said.
"I'll have a solution in a few days."
Norman left carrying something unfamiliar.
For the first time in years...
Hope.
And Drex?
Drex had just taken another decisive step.
Not through brute force.
Not through assassination.
But through leverage.
The sharpest weapon in existence.