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"Yes, this could save lives—many lives. It might even change the trajectory of the world itself." Dr. Curt Connors' voice quivered with excitement as he gestured toward his prototype regeneration module.
Someone finally understood his work.
"Maybe it can," Shen He replied, his tone steady but distant. "But it could also spark a catastrophe. Technologies like these—when misused—become weapons of chaos. Have you considered the outcome if someone were to inherit not only the regenerative traits of a lizard's severed limb, but also amplify that with latent mutations or even aggression?"
"This…"
The smile on Dr. Connors' face froze.
He had anticipated praise, not precaution.
"I'm sorry," Shen He continued, still smiling with disarming politeness, "but I'm not just a businessman."
Truthfully, Shen He had already deduced that Connors' experiment—successful or not—was replicating unstable cross-species genetic coding. His approach had already once transformed him into The Lizard in another reality. In this iteration, it was dangerously close to forming bio-weapons.
If it weren't for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s quiet lockdown protocols, the wave of underground lizard-like hybrids forming in New York's outskirts might have already gone public. Shen He recalled an old animation—Tooth and Claw—where engineered beasts of lions, crocodiles, and serpents clashed. The visuals haunted him.
Right then, Jeanne tugged his sleeve. Her whisper was soft, her breath barely a breeze.
"Are you sure?" Shen He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her.
Jeanne nodded once. There was no hesitation.
Shen He's gaze landed on Norman Osborn.
Joan had sensed it—a demonic corruption hiding inside Norman. Though he looked pale and frail, his spiritual energy simmered with malice. She said it was dormant now, but under enough stimulus, it would awaken—fierce, unstable, and inhuman.
It no longer mattered whether the film version showed him dying of disease. That was fiction. This was a living, twisting truth.
And Shen He trusted Jeanne's divine sight without question.
He suddenly turned, looking straight at Norman Osborn.
"Mr. Osborn," he said, "do you genuinely believe Dr. Helen Cho's nanomolecular regeneration tech will cure you?"
"…What are you implying, Mr. Shen?"
Norman's eyes snapped into focus, suddenly sharp, like a predator roused. The illusion of fragility shattered.
"I told you," Shen He said, smiling faintly, "I'm not merely a businessman. You suffer from a hereditary affliction—an incurable degenerative syndrome unique to the Osborn bloodline. It typically emerges around age seventeen, leads to deterioration by thirty, and death by forty. Am I wrong?"
Originally, Shen He had only agreed to the meeting out of curiosity. Norman Osborn was a prominent name in any universe—a classic villain. He wanted to see for himself if this Norman was different.
Apparently not.
Norman smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Your information is impressive, Mr. Shen. Still, shielding internationally wanted criminals—no matter how powerful—puts your company under legal scrutiny. Even billionaires like me answer to justice."
Of course, Norman had done his own background check. Shen He's role in S.H.I.E.L.D., his involvement in top-secret battles, his leadership of the Chaldea Initiative—none of that had gone unnoticed. But what Norman didn't expect was this confrontation.
Shen He said nothing more. He reached for a pen on the desk.
Whoosh—
In a blink, he flicked it with uncanny speed. It shot toward Norman like a bullet—but it never hit.
Norman vanished.
Or rather, he moved, agilely, almost superhumanly. The pen shattered his wheelchair behind him.
His assistants gasped, startled. But the tech agents under Dr. Helen Cho didn't flinch—they were trained S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives embedded in Chaldea's logistical division.
"How did you know?" Norman's voice had changed—no longer weak and brittle. It was raspy, metallic, like claws against iron.
His skin shifted. Green scales crept across his cheeks. Veins bulged unnaturally.
"This is another personality," Shen He mused aloud, observing calmly. "A manifestation of suppressed impulses. Like the Hulk. Only inferior."
Norman snarled, his eyes glowing yellow-green. "The Hulk? That brutish ape? Don't confuse me with that failure. Unlike him, I retain my intellect—my genius—even in this perfected form."
Norman's mutation had clearly been influenced by his genetic degeneration—but it was no accident. Jeanne's earlier warning had been right: some ancient darkness lurked within him. The transformation had a demonic resonance, not unlike the entities Jeanne fought during the Babylon ritual arc.
"You sound confident," Shen He replied.
A sleek silver pistol manifested in his hand—S.H.I.E.L.D. tech enhanced by Chaldean alchemy.
"But if I wanted to kill you, it would take exactly one second. And I wouldn't even damage Dr. Cho's lab."
"You wouldn't dare," Norman sneered, his face now twisted, Joker-like, with green skin and wild hair. "My visit here is public. My employees, the press—everyone knows I came. If I disappear now, your entire operation could be exposed. How long can you hide fugitives in this place?"
That was his gambit. Use his wealth as a shield. If anything happened to him, it would trigger media chaos, investigations, and possibly an international incident.
"I see."
Shen He's smile widened.
"Then let's test your theory."
"Why are you laughing?" Norman's eyes widened. There was a pulse—killing intent. It radiated like a wave of bloodlust.
Norman was different from Hulk in this way. Where the Hulk rampaged, Norman planned. He sought to savor destruction.
"I'm laughing at your ignorance."
Shen He raised one hand and snapped his fingers.
"Subdue him."
Bang—
A ripple of force cracked the floor.
In a flash of scarlet silk, the girl in a battle kimono descended like a falcon. Her kick sent Norman reeling across the room, crashing toward Shen He.
Joan of Arc's armored heel planted itself atop Norman's chest, pinning him effortlessly. Her pistol, modified by Dr. Cho, aimed directly at his forehead. Her holy aura burned like the sun.
For all his talk, Norman couldn't move.
"Do you dare kill me!?" he shrieked, trembling. "You'll expose everything!"
"You misunderstand," Shen He said, eyes cold. "We—Chaldea—have no interest in staying hidden anymore. The era of secrecy is over. And you? You're not even close to grasping the scale of what's coming."
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