Marvel: Rise of the Ultimate AI-Chapter 37: Green Goblin - Osborn Unleashed

Inside a secret laboratory within Osborn Industries, Norman Osborn lay on an operating table.

"But, Mr. Osborn, the OZ serum hasn't been fully tested yet. Injecting it into your body might have unexpected consequences."

Dr. Otto Octavius, the lead scientist of the OZ serum project, spoke with concern.

"There's no time to worry about that now. Didn't the lab rats show positive results?"

"I've already spoken with the military. They need to witness the power of this super-soldier serum firsthand. I have to give them a demonstration."

Norman Osborn's expression was one of manic determination.

Lately, Mason Industries' rapid expansion had put immense pressure on him. He had to do something to reverse Osborn Industries' declining status. Some of the company's shareholders were already questioning his leadership.

Seeing that his warnings were futile, Dr. Octavius reluctantly placed his hand over the activation button.

"Mr. Osborn, if you feel anything abnormal, say so immediately, and I will stop the experiment at once."

"I understand. Begin."

Norman Osborn's voice was icy cold.

As the assistant pressed the button, the green liquid in the injector was forcefully administered into Osborn's bloodstream.

A burning sensation spread through his veins. His muscles tore apart and reformed. A deafening hum filled his skull, and then—he heard a voice.

"Do you want Osborn Industries to be the strongest in America?"

"Then you must become the strongest yourself."

"Kill Gene Mason, then devour Mason Industries."

"Eliminate everyone who stands in your way."

A devilish whisper slithered through his consciousness, gnawing at his mind.

The rational part of Norman Osborn's brain was fading, being overtaken by something darker, something uncontrollable.

And just before he completely lost himself, he heard laughter.

"Mr. Osborn, are you alright?"

As the experiment ended, Dr. Octavius rushed over, his voice filled with worry.

Norman Osborn smiled. "I'm fine. In fact, I feel stronger than ever."

With a casual flex, he shattered the steel restraints binding him to the table.

The heavy metal shackles—designed to withstand immense force—crumbled like brittle twigs.

"I've never felt this good in my entire life."

Dr. Octavius' eyes sparkled with excitement as he quickly arranged for Osborn to undergo physical tests.

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The data left him stunned.

"Mr. Osborn, with this, we can definitely surpass Mason Industries!"

Dr. Octavius nearly shouted in excitement.

"It's time for Gene Mason to taste defeat."

Norman Osborn's voice was as cold as steel.

For some reason, those words sent a shiver down Dr. Octavius' spine.

"Mr. Osborn... Mr. Osborn, what are you doing?"

One of the lab technicians noticed Osborn's eerie expression and asked in a trembling voice.

"Me?" Osborn chuckled darkly. "I'm going to kill."

Before anyone could react, he snapped the technician's neck with a single, effortless motion.

A murderous haze had clouded his mind—there was only one thing he wanted now: blood.

"Hahahaha!"

His laughter echoed through the laboratory as he slaughtered everyone inside, one by one.

Only Dr. Octavius, hidden in a secluded corner, managed to escape death—though he was later gravely injured in the ensuing explosion.

"Ahh... power is truly a beautiful thing."

Norman Osborn stood amidst the ruins of his laboratory, his eyes gleaming with madness.

"Gene Mason... in three days, at your little banquet..."

"You. Will. Die."

Osborn's voice was filled with eerie glee.

"Everything you have—will soon belong to me."

The ballroom was bathed in dazzling lights, casting brilliant hues across the luxurious venue.

New York's elite had gathered here, all dressed in their finest attire.

Some were here to curry favor with Gene Mason.

Some were here to congratulate him.

And some... had other motives entirely.

But no matter their reason, every conversation centered around one person—Gene Mason.

"Where is Mr. Mason? Why isn't he here yet?"

"Relax. He'll be here soon."

"Mr. Mason is definitely going to invest in my company!"

"The Starlink project is incredible!"

"I wonder which industry Mason Industries will dominate next?"

As the chatter continued, the man of the hour finally arrived.

The moment Gene Mason stepped into the hall, a thunderous round of applause erupted.

"Thank you all for coming tonight," Gene said with a charming smile. "Let's enjoy ourselves. Tonight, I've prepared exquisite food, the finest champagne..."

With his words, the grand banquet officially began.

"Mr. Mason, about the micro-missiles you mentioned developing for the military—how's the progress?"

A military representative approached, his tone laced with curiosity.

Gene chuckled. "Ah, General Michael. The micro-missiles are complete. Soon, you'll see just how powerful they are."

Satisfied, General Michael gave a nod and wandered off to find his dance partner.

Ever since Stark Industries had stopped manufacturing weapons, Mason Industries had become the U.S. military's top defense contractor.

As the music swelled, the ballroom reached the height of its festivities.

Then—

CRASH!

The grand floor-to-ceiling windows shattered into a thousand shards.

A menacing figure on a high-tech glider soared into the ballroom, circling above the crowd.

"Hahahaha!"

A man clad in an emerald-green armored suit cackled wildly.

"Good evening, my dear New York elites! Are you enjoying yourselves?"

The Green Goblin.

Raising his weapon, he fired indiscriminately, bullets tearing through the lavish banquet hall.

Screams filled the air as chaos erupted.

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