"General Ross."
Wearing a white laboratory coat, Batman walked calmly behind Norman Osborn, blending perfectly into the group of Osborn Enterprise researchers. His posture, pace, and expression were indistinguishable from those of a genuine employee.
No one questioned him.
At the front of the group, Norman Osborn extended his hand with a practiced smile, greeting the gray-haired military officer standing before him.
"A very warm welcome to Osborn Enterprise—"
General Ross did not smile.
He shook Osborn's hand briefly, then released it at once, his sharp eyes cutting straight to the point.
"I want to see the progress of the Super Soldier program."
There was no small talk. No courtesy.
Norman Osborn's smile stiffened for just a fraction of a second before he recovered. With a gesture, he led General Ross and the accompanying military representatives deeper into the building.
Their destination, however, was not the human laboratory on the second basement level.
Instead, they arrived at a vast, open testing hall.
Batman's eyes narrowed slightly.
Several agile young men were soaring through the air, riding advanced gliders shaped like bat wings, their movements fluid and controlled. They dived, rose, and turned with astonishing precision.
Below them, rows of researchers recorded data with meticulous care—speed, balance, energy output, wind resistance.
"So that's the glider from the Spider-Slayer project…" Batman thought.
He had only skimmed that file before. All he knew was that the device was designed for aerial combat against Spider-Man.
Norman Osborn gestured proudly toward the scene.
"We've already solved the issues of parallel gliding and gravity balance," he said. "The first-generation prototype is complete."
General Ross barely glanced upward.
"I've already seen the glider," he said flatly. "That's not why I'm here."
Without waiting for Osborn to respond, General Ross took the lead himself, turning sharply and walking toward the elevator that led downward.
The military personnel followed him without hesitation.
Norman Osborn's expression flickered—but he quickly caught up, walking beside the general as they descended toward the second basement level.
---
They stopped before a transparent experimental tank.
Inside was a human body—twisted, deformed, long dead.
Batman watched carefully.
Neither General Ross nor the military entourage showed the slightest hint of surprise.
Nor did Osborn's researchers.
It was clear they all knew exactly what kind of experiments were being conducted here.
General Ross stared at the tank for a moment, then asked coldly,
"How's the progress?"
"The experiment is ongoing," Norman Osborn replied smoothly. "And the progress is very fast."
He avoided specifics.
But the truth was impossible to hide.
Fifty transparent tanks.
Fifty deformed corpses.
Fifty failures.
General Ross stopped walking.
He turned slowly and stared at Norman Osborn in silence for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
"A serum that was successfully created sixty years ago," he said, voice heavy with restrained anger, "and sixty years later—despite better technology and infrastructure—you still can't reproduce it."
He stepped closer.
"Mr. Osborn, I will give you two more weeks."
The air grew suffocating.
"If the Super Soldier Serum is still not completed," General Ross continued, "I will represent the military and withdraw all investment from Osborn Enterprise."
Withdrawal of investment.
Those words struck Norman Osborn like a hammer to the chest.
From the moment the military entered the project, Osborn Enterprise had poured nearly all its capital into the Super Soldier Serum. The promise of a long-term military partnership had driven Osborn to gamble everything.
Other shareholders had complained. Some had even resisted.
But with the Super Soldier Serum in one hand—and Dr. Otto's nuclear fusion project in the other—Norman Osborn had believed himself untouchable.
Now—
The serum had failed.
And Otto's project was stalled at a critical point.
Norman Osborn clenched his fists.
"General Ross," he said tightly, "as an Air Force Lieutenant General, I don't understand why you're so obsessed with the Super Soldier program."
He gestured sharply.
"Our gliders and individual combat suits could revolutionize aerial warfare. Why ignore them?"
General Ross's eyes burned.
"You really want to know why?"
His voice rose.
"Do you want to know what kind of failure I've lived through?"
His fists trembled as he spoke.
"Three years ago, I deployed a full division, over twenty tanks, and seven aircraft—all to hunt down one monster."
His face reddened violently.
"And do you know what happened? Total failure."
His voice thundered through the lab.
"Do you know how many wives and children waited at home—only to receive a body in a coffin?"
"These were real lives!" he roared. "My soldiers!"
Spittle flew as he leaned toward Norman Osborn.
"If I had an army of Super Soldiers, none of that would have happened!"
His voice dropped to a furious snarl.
"Now do you understand why I don't care about your gliders?"
Norman Osborn stood motionless, his face splattered with saliva. His eyes lowered, hiding his emotions.
Behind him, several researchers looked pale.
Batman's mind raced.
"In 2003… a military operation involving the Hulk," he recalled instantly. "After that battle, the Hulk disappeared."
Then General Ross spoke again.
"Today, the Daily Bugle received an anonymous email," he said coldly. "Human experiments. Surveillance footage. Recorded evidence."
His gaze locked onto Norman Osborn.
"If your company fails again in two weeks," he said, "the military will stop covering for you—and we will pull out completely."
With a sharp gesture, General Ross turned and led his men away.
Norman Osborn was left standing alone.
---
"Mr. Osborn…"
A hesitant voice called out.
Norman ignored it.
He returned alone to his top-floor office, the sixty-story summit of Osborn Enterprise. Papers lay scattered across the floor, cabinets overturned—but he didn't even look at them.
They no longer mattered.
After a long silence, he pressed the intercom.
"Cancel all group-funded research," he ordered. "Redirect every dollar into the Super Soldier Serum."
A pause.
"Release the Spider-Slayer."
His voice hardened.
"I want to see Spider-Man before sunset."
The secretary—a capable woman in her thirties with neatly tied brown hair—hesitated.
"Mr. Osborn… this could lead to the shareholders voting you out."
"I have contingencies," Norman snapped. "I have allies. Do as I say."
She swallowed.
"Should Dr. Otto's nuclear fusion project also be stopped?"
Norman Osborn slammed his fist onto the desk.
"Stop it. Stop everything!"
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