The moment the topic of Genetic Optimization Serum came up, it immediately triggered intense interest from Phil Coulson, senior agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
There was no way it wouldn't.
Seventy years had passed since the original Super Soldier Serum, and ever since the last remaining vial had been destroyed by a Hydra operative—code-named Wolverine—research into recreating it had never truly stopped.
It wasn't that S.H.I.E.L.D. had achieved zero results over the decades.
Otherwise, figures like the Black Captain wouldn't exist at all.
But in terms of effectiveness, every version they'd produced fell painfully short of the real thing—the one that turned Steve Rogers into Captain America.
So when someone suddenly appeared claiming to have developed something similar, Phil Coulson had no choice but to pay attention.
When the two of them entered Ryan's office, Ryan gestured politely toward the luxury sofa reserved for guests and smiled.
"Have a seat, Agent Coulson. Tea? Coffee? Or maybe a glass of red wine?"
"Coffee will be fine, thanks," Coulson replied with a smile, casually taking in the opulent décor as he sat down.
Moments later, a cup of coffee and a cup of top-grade Dragonwell tea were delivered by a secretary whose looks, figure, and presence were all top-tier.
Her fitted, fashionable office attire only made her more eye-catching.
Ryan might not spend much time on day-to-day company operations, but in an overclocked state, he had absolute control over everything under his umbrella.
As for why he'd hired a beautiful secretary—one with looks, curves, competence, and polish—the reason hardly needed explaining.
For a lifelong homebody, the old saying applied perfectly:
If you've got a secretary, let her handle things.If you don't, let her handle you.
If you don't have the means, that's life.
But if you do? There's no reason not to enjoy it.
Given how little time Ryan spent managing the company personally, he'd simply assembled an entire secretary team.
Their operational efficiency was still improving.
But their looks, physiques, temperament, and technical skills?
Flawless.
If there was any downside at all, it was the cost.
But for someone who'd just made ten billion dollars off Tony Stark, that expense barely registered.
As the secretary swayed away, shutting the office door and even tossing Ryan a subtle flirtatious glance, Coulson suddenly had an uneasy thought:
Please don't let this be another Tony Stark.
Catching the shift in Coulson's expression, Ryan didn't bother hiding anything and spoke openly with a smile.
"Sorry about that, Agent Coulson. You know as well as I do—research work gets painfully dull."
"To keep myself sharp without causing real trouble, this is the compromise I settled on."
Coulson understood perfectly.
While the situation did resemble Tony Stark a bit too closely for comfort, a fondness for women alone wasn't exactly a capital offense.
It was private business.
Even S.H.I.E.L.D. had no authority to interfere—at least, not officially.
After all, Tony Stark was far worse. Reckless, uncooperative, and openly defiant.
And yet S.H.I.E.L.D. still followed behind him, cleaning up his messes.
Of course, Ryan Cole—despite his value and potential—couldn't be compared to a century-old juggernaut like Stark Industries.
But the Genetic Optimization Serum changed everything.
As for whether it was real, Coulson had surprisingly few doubts.
Ryan had already demonstrated uncanny knowledge—knowing Howard Stark was a S.H.I.E.L.D. founder, knowing he left behind hidden research, and even guiding Tony Stark toward discovering a new element.
That alone demanded attention.
And judging by the choices Ryan had presented to Tony, it was clear he knew far more than he let on.
Given all that, Coulson found it hard to believe Ryan would lie about something this easy to expose.
Compared to a few extra secretaries, Coulson cared far more about what Ryan really knew—and what this serum actually was.
"I understand your reasoning," Coulson said calmly."But I'm more interested in the Genetic Optimization Serum you mentioned."
"If it's not convenient to discuss, I won't press."
Even as he spoke, Coulson had already decided to flag Ryan's… preferences… in his report.
Seeing the fish starting to bite, Ryan had no intention of holding back the bait.
"There's nothing inconvenient about it."
Soon, another secretary—this one with a completely different hairstyle and aura, yet equally stunning—entered and delivered a folder.
"These documents contain all available data and performance metrics on the Genetic Optimization Serum," Ryan said, handing them over."As for the formula itself—sorry. That's not included."
Coulson hadn't expected to get the formula anyway.
The fact that Ryan handed over this much information so easily was already shocking.
If the serum worked—even at one-tenth the effectiveness of the Super Soldier Serum—it would be priceless.
And once Coulson finished reading, realizing the serum had far broader compatibility than the Super Soldier Serum, his level of concern rose sharply.
This couldn't be ignored.
Captain America's uniqueness could be chalked up to external factors.
But why was there only one Black Captain, despite a weaker serum?
The answers were obvious:
Either the serum had strict requirements—
—or it was incredibly limited in quantity.
The second explanation didn't hold up.
After Steve Rogers returned, there was no way S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't extract more blood for research.
And yet, across the entire MCU timeline, there was still only one.
Otherwise, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't be struggling like this.
They wouldn't need thousands—just letting Nick Fury's elite agents use it would've changed everything.
"Mr. Cole," Coulson said seriously, looking up from the documents."Please forgive my bluntness."
"As long as it doesn't involve my core research," Ryan replied, nodding.
"You're certain these metrics and data are accurate?" Coulson asked.
Ryan answered just as seriously.
"Other than lacking large-scale clinical trials, everything you're seeing is accurate."
"So you have conducted small-scale trials?" Coulson pressed instantly.
Ryan chuckled.
"Let me guess—you're worried I violated U.S. law by experimenting on humans."
"Relax. This serum has not been tested on anyone in this world."
"Then these are animal trials?" Coulson asked, tapping the human-based metrics.
Ryan shrugged lightly.
"Good question, Agent Coulson. Unfortunately, that touches my core research."
"No comment."
"You should understand," Coulson said evenly,"unauthorized human experimentation violates U.S. law."
The implication was clear.
It was a threat—lightly delivered.
Ryan's response was immediate.
A test tube containing ten milliliters of pale blue liquid was placed in front of Coulson.
"This is…?" Coulson froze, momentarily thrown off.
"Ten milliliters won't produce dramatic effects," Ryan said calmly."But it's more than enough for preliminary analysis."
"Consider it a show of good faith."
"Take it with you. Once you have results, we'll talk again."
Ryan lifted his teacup.
Though the gesture of serving tea to signal the end of a meeting was an old cultural custom—one most Westerners wouldn't recognize—the message couldn't have been clearer.
After only a few seconds of hesitation, Coulson pocketed the vial.
Then, as if the confrontation had never happened, he smoothly changed the subject.
"I heard your company is scouting new office locations?"