Marvel Transmigration: I Possessed Iron Man

"Norman, please, the physical enhancement serum isn't ready yet. The data clearly shows human trials are impossible at this stage," pleaded Dr. Stromm, dressed in a gray work uniform. His sharp intellect was hidden beneath a receding, horseshoe-shaped hairline.

"This is my final warning. We cannot go through with this."

Norman Osborn continued working at his computer, barely glancing up. "Don't be so spineless. All experiments carry risk. Haven't you heard the old saying? 'Fortune favors the bold.' We've been too cautious for far too long."

Dr. Stromm hurried after him. "At least let me arrange for different medical staff and a qualified volunteer. If you just give me two more weeks—"

Norman Osborn impatiently cut him off. "Two weeks? We don't have that luxury. In two weeks, the military will pull their funding. Those stubborn old men on the board won't lift a finger to help me. I've poured my entire fortune into this project, and you know it. If I can't deliver a successful serum within three days, they'll toss me out like yesterday's news!"

Norman's gaze shifted toward the test subject sealed inside a glass container—a mouse named Victor.

"Besides, we now have a perfectly good test subject. Doctor, hand me the PCLQ."

"What do you need the PCLQ for?" Though clearly uneasy, Dr. Stromm still retrieved a small bottle from the cabinet. It resembled a double-capped glucose vial.

"It catalyzes the reaction once the enhancement serum is atomized into the bloodstream."

Norman handed the vial to Victor.

"Norman, are you sure this is safe?" Victor asked, visibly nervous.

"Human evolution has spanned forty thousand years, yet we've only scratched the surface of our true potential. Our company's enhancement serum can stimulate active cells, regenerate lost limbs, and strengthen the human body. We could elevate humanity to the peak of the natural world."

"Besides, Mr. Victor, it's not like you have a choice now, do you?" Norman's gaunt face lit up with anticipation.

Victor clenched his jaw. "Alright… I'll trust you, just this once." He downed the liquid in a single gulp.

"Ugh, it tastes like old sewer water," he grimaced, wincing in disgust.

"Please lie down on the equipment table," Norman instructed, pressing a button. A metallic frame with arm restraints sprang open.

"This looks more like a butcher's table than medical equipment," Victor muttered warily as he eyed the setup.

Norman explained calmly, "This is genetic-level modification. There will be side effects. For your limb to regenerate, you'll have to endure some pain. As they say, no rainbow without the storm. Behind every moment of applause and glory lies blood and sweat."

"So… brace yourself for the pain and welcome a brighter tomorrow."

Victor let out a shaky breath. "Alright. I chose this path… I'll crawl it if I have to." With determination and anxiety etched on his face, he lay down on the cold metal apparatus.

"Whoa, why is this thing so cold?" The moment his skin touched the surface, a chill ran through him and goosebumps erupted.

"This table is made of adamantium alloy," Norman replied with pride. "It can withstand over ten thousand degrees without deforming."

Victor chuckled nervously. "Guess that beats the legendary beds from those martial arts novels I used to read."

Norman frowned, confused. "What?"

"Never mind… Let's just get on with it."

Click, click, click…

With a series of swift, practiced movements from Norman and Dr. Stromm, the metallic restraints clamped down tightly around Victor's neck and limbs, rendering him completely immobile.

Victor swallowed hard. "Uh… suddenly, becoming a eunuch doesn't sound so bad. Can I still back out?"

"Sorry. That ship has sailed," Norman said coldly.

The metal table, complete with its attached equipment, slid into a massive glass chamber.

Dr. Stromm looked to Norman for confirmation. Norman gave a silent nod.

Beep. An electronic tone sounded.

Hiss…

A green mist, eerie and unnatural, began to fill the glass container.

Victor could only move his eyes now. The moment he inhaled the first breath of the green mist, a strange haze overtook him. In the blink of an eye, he found himself standing on a vast grassland under a golden sunset.

He was running, laughing, basking in the freedom of his lost youth.

Meanwhile, Norman and Dr. Stromm fixated on the nearby monitor, observing Victor's vital statistics in real time.

A 3D model of Victor's body appeared on the screen.

"Muscle density is increasing… Cellular activity is off the charts! Even his severed fifth limb is beginning to regenerate!" Dr. Stromm exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement.

To witness a serum capable of reshaping the world taking form before their eyes filled him with an indescribable sense of pride and accomplishment.

The power of science!

"We should open a bottle of champagne to celebrate!" Norman declared, already reveling in victory.

In his mind's eye, he pictured General Sorkom—the smug military man who had mocked him days ago—groveling and begging for access to this world-changing breakthrough.

Soon, he would stand alongside, or above, the likes of Tony Stark, Einstein, and Hawking. They would all pale in comparison to his brilliance.

Osborn Industries would rise above Stark Industries to become the most powerful enterprise in the United States.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Suddenly, red warning lights flashed and alarms blared from every diagnostic machine.

"What the hell is happening?"

Norman's victorious fantasy shattered, replaced by panic.

"Something's gone wrong!" Dr. Stromm shouted, wide-eyed.

The green mist in the chamber began to dissipate, revealing Victor's pale, bloated body—a grotesque, unsettling sight.

Then, Victor's body began convulsing violently on the table, as though jolted by a high-voltage current.

"Shut it down! Shut everything down now!" Norman barked.

"Ah—yes, right away!"

Dr. Stromm scrambled to halt the gas injection, switching the system to extraction mode instead.

Beep…

The heart monitor's line flattened into a single, continuous red streak.

"He's dead?"

A cold shiver ran down Norman Osborn's spine.

Victor couldn't have died anywhere else—but not here, not inside his lab.

If word got out, it wouldn't just be his career—the entire Osborn Industries empire could collapse overnight.

(End of Chapter)

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