Amano Ren toyed idly with instruments and reagents, and Norman's brow twitched nonstop.
When Ren finished speaking, the corner of Norman's mouth jerked. He glanced toward the hall and edged a step toward the door.
"Are you a robber? A corporate spy? Name your price and I will pay."
"A million? Ten million? I will try to meet it."
Ren shook his head and picked up the incomplete human-enhancement serum Norman had just set down, giving it a rough shake.
Norman hurried to stop him.
"But if you intend anything else, think carefully. My name is Norman Osborn."
"Even if you call yourself Thanos, it makes no difference to me."
Norman frowned. Who was Thanos, and how strong could he be compared with Norman Osborn?
Oscorp was one of the top tech firms in America, even the world.
They specialized in biomedical tech, with a slice of defense work.
Their ties to the military were tight. Even leaders of other great powers had to show him respect.
While he was puzzling it out, his fingers brushed the alarm. One press would bring armed security in three minutes.
Police would arrive in ten.
"If I were you, I would not waste effort like that."
Ren looked up at some point and made a polite gesture. "Go ahead and press. I will not stop you."
That calm, leisurely tone made Norman hesitate.
He was no fool. Anyone who broke the electronic lock so easily either had absurd hacking skill or inside help.
Clearly his reactions had already been accounted for.
He thought it through, then simply walked over. By then Ren had taken the executive chair.
"Who are you? What do you want? Do you understand the consequences of this?"
"General Ross and General Soster are both my friends. Do you know what those names mean?"
"Cross Oscorp and derail military plans, and even at the ends of the earth you will not slip past the FBI."
Norman's eyes flicked to a drawer with a gun.
Ren's expression did not change. As Norman looked, Ren slid the drawer open, fished out a Glock, and racked it with a slightly awkward motion.
Norman took two involuntary steps back.
Ren sighted down the barrel, then abruptly aimed at his own left palm and squeezed.
Bang.
Insane. A madman.
Norman seethed. What asylum had this lunatic crawled out of?
Panic faded into bafflement.
He stared at Ren's left hand. Not a mark.
"Feels like a mosquito bite."
"This is how you protect yourself? This is your trump card?"
Ren rolled a flattened slug between his fingers and shook his head.
"Keep an AK or an RPG in here. A 9-millimeter toy will not save you."
Thank you so much for the helpful advice.
Not everyone is a monster like you.
He had pierced every layer of Oscorp's security to stand before the boss. In the face of an enemy like that, even turning the lab into an armory would not bring peace of mind.
Damn it. Was there a mole in Security?
"Your emotions are spiking. Your heart rate is in the danger zone. Emm... your brain waves are hyperactive. Want a glass of water to cool down?"
Ren smiled with cherubic kindness.
Norman nearly fainted. Then pour it for me.
Knowing now he had no way to resist, he dragged out a chair and sat.
It used to be a seat for subordinates. Now it was his turn to sit there, while Ren occupied the boss's place as if he owned the room.
"Do not be nervous. I will repeat myself. Do you want to live?"
Ren asked again.
Norman finally caught on. He glanced at the serum in Ren's hand and remembered that impossible display of defense.
His eyes lit. His voice was low, his excitement thinly veiled. "You mean... you have a human-enhancement agent?"
Ren shook his head, and Norman sagged.
Of course. If such a thing were easy to obtain, the military would not be leaning on him.
Even those shadowy groups could not produce a perfect, faultless enhancer.
Then Ren spoke. "I do not have it. I can, however, improve it."
"And..."
"Even without it, I can solve your family's genetic flaw."
Norman's fist clenched under the table. "You are not lying? How would you solve it?"
He had not pursued the serum purely for the military. He wanted to end his family's hereditary disease.
They possessed wealth beyond measure, yet carried a genetic curse.
No one lived to old age. They died of illness first.
He had poured fortunes into experiments and worked with renowned biologists to cut that destiny short.
But the age crept up and no acceptable drug had emerged.
He had, instead, supplied New York with a steady stream of strange headlines.
"That is not your concern. Think instead about the price you can pay."
Ren's tone stayed even.
He had not come to haggle over a few million.
His target was all of Oscorp.
At its peak Oscorp stood shoulder to shoulder with Stark Industries and spanned a wide range of fields. In bio, they were unmatched.
Look at the roster. Green Goblin and Lizard directly tied. Doc Ock, Electro, and Rhino with indirect links and orange jumpsuits.
Even Spider-Man had been bitten by one of their spiders.
A talent pipeline.
Calm now, Norman studied Ren. He had a feeling this man's appetite would not be easy to satisfy.
Ren spoke first.
"I want the whole of Oscorp."
"Impossible."