REVIEWS AND POWERSTONES PLSSS!!!!!REVIEWS AND POWERSTONES PLSSS!!!!!REVIEWS AND POWERSTONES PLSSS!!!!!Chapter 68: Knockoff Avengers and the Green Goblin
Umbrella Corporation. Prison level.
Matthew looked at the unconscious Bullseye in front of him and, without any hesitation, casually rolled a Will Distortion-modified Las Plagas between his fingers and injected it.
His read on Bullseye was positive.
The man's abilities and track record were genuinely impressive.
Splitting an enemy's throat with a playing card. Spitting out his own tooth hard enough to punch through a skull. Killing a man at ninety meters with a toothpick.
No superheroes on the kill list. But Matthew was confident that with the right training and some custom equipment, Bullseye could become the Marvel universe's other Hawkeye.
Which led somewhere interesting.
"Am I building a knockoff Avengers?"
He let himself smile at that for a moment.
He had his knockoff Hawkeye. When was he getting around to the rest of the roster? A knockoff Black Widow, a knockoff Captain America?
Actually, Ada already covered the Black Widow slot reasonably well.
As for Captain America, enhanced Hunk could probably hold his own in that role. But if he was being honest with himself, the better fit wasn't Hunk. It was Chris Redfield, who still hadn't joined Umbrella.
Because the kind of man who could elbow a boulder weighing more than ten tons and treat it as a normal Tuesday was a specific type, and that type was Chris Redfield.
He was going to have to find a way to bring Chris and his group in. Talent sitting outside his organization was, in his view, a waste he didn't feel good about.
Building out a real knockoff Avengers would take time regardless. The originals included things that were well outside the normal scale. But it was an interesting idea. Worth actually pursuing if the opportunity came together.
Tap. Tap.
Matthew looked at Bullseye, whose convulsions had run their course, and tapped his face lightly.
Bullseye came around with some initial confusion on his face.
Then he saw Matthew.
The confusion disappeared. What replaced it was pure, unrestrained fervor.
Like a fanatic with a belief branded directly into his brain.
"My lord!"
He flipped onto his knees and pressed his lips gently to the toe of Matthew's shoe, with the complete sincerity of a loyal hound.
Matthew watched this and felt his skin crawl.
Which was fine. It was exactly what he had asked for.
Loyal. Fanatical. Point him at something and he hits it.
"How do you feel?" Matthew asked.
Bullseye's fervor intensified further. "My lord. I have never felt this well. Not once in my life."
"Thank you for this gift."
"Just call me Boss."
"As you wish, Boss."
Bullseye's addition to the organization produced no ripples whatsoever.
On Matthew's instruction, Bullseye changed his appearance entirely and adopted a new face.
Nobody inside Umbrella even noticed that a man named Lester had been added to the roster.
The next day.
News of unidentified intruders breaking into Fisk Tower spread across New York.
Fisk moved quickly. He issued a public statement explaining that the incident had been a prank arranged by a friend, that no one had been harmed, and that everything was resolved.
Marina, who had called the police, he fired on the grounds that she had stepped through the company door on the wrong foot.
Fisk was publicly known as a prominent New York philanthropist, so Marina calling the police wasn't going to cause him any real difficulty in any case. But a man in his position had a longstanding dislike of police involvement in his affairs, and he considered firing her entirely reasonable.
Marina: Nobody was harmed? I was harmed. I was very definitely harmed.
With Fisk quietly in place as Matthew's asset, Matthew's broader positioning had begun.
In the office.
Matthew was looking at the news of Oscorp's stock recovery when something sharpened behind his eyes.
Oscorp bouncing back. Which meant the Green Goblin had probably arrived.
Oscorp wasn't quite in Stark Industries' league in this version of the world, but what Matthew was interested in was the Human Enhancement Formula Osborn had developed. Strip out the side effects and it became a workable template for mass-producing enhanced soldiers.
That wasn't the only thing.
He also had his eye on the Goblin Glider.
Compact, fast, mass-producible, single-operator. Equipment meeting all of those criteria at once was not common. And the Goblin Glider specifically addressed the gap that individual combat units were most consistently missing: aerial capability and mobility.
If the opportunity presented itself, his next move was bringing the Green Goblin on board.
His gaze shifted for a moment. Then he reached into the cryogenic unit, took out a superior-strain Las Plagas, ran it through the System for modification, and called Bullseye in.
Oscorp. Conference room.
Norman Osborn sat at the head of the table, visibly energized, announcing the company's rising stock to the assembled shareholders.
Relative to Norman's energy, the shareholders' response was underwhelming. Several had stopped paying attention at some point during his remarks. At least one had started doodling in the notebook beside him.
None of them were treating anything he said as particularly significant.
When Norman finished delivering the good news, the rest of the board slowly raised their heads.
Cold light fell across the conference room. The atmosphere was stiff and rigid. Only Norman was still running on the heat of his own excitement.
"What's the matter? Isn't anyone pleased?"
"Our stock just crossed our biggest competitor's. That's not worth celebrating?"
He looked around the table, genuinely puzzled.
The board members avoided his eyes. Something was clearly being kept from him.
"Everyone. What is it? Today should be a good day."
He kept asking. No one answered.
Then a white-haired man with gold-rimmed glasses broke the silence.
"Norman. After deliberation, we've decided to sell the company while the stock is at its peak."
The smile on Norman Osborn's face went rigid.
"What?" He looked at the man with full seriousness. "Henry, are you joking? Today is not April Fool's Day."
"No joke." Henry held his gaze without wavering.
A silence settled over the room.
Norman stared at Henry. What was happening to his expression was not pleasant to look at.
"Why was I not informed in advance?"
Henry's face didn't move. "I apologize, Norman. The other party didn't want to trigger a management conflict, which would have affected the sale price. If you had been present, the deal would not have gone through."
"So. I'm sorry."
He delivered this without any feeling behind it, picked up his tea, and took a sip.
Henry set the cup back down, cleared his throat, and spoke in a tone that had been assembled into something very formal.
"The board will have your resignation processed within thirty days. Your signature will be required at that time."
Norman could barely stay standing.
"You can't do this." He looked at every face in the room. "I built this company. Do you have any idea what I gave up for it?" The last sentence came out close to a shout.
The people at the table received this as approximately what it was: the behavior of someone who had run out of options.
Henry looked at Norman, who appeared to want to tear him apart, with the same steady expression.
Something faintly contemptuous sat behind the calm when he spoke.
"You've been kicked out, Norman."
A surge of fury hit the ceiling of Norman's skull.
Everyone in the room was waiting for something irrational to follow.
What happened instead was that Norman Osborn went quiet, and smiled.
"Is that so."
"Then we'll see."
***
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