"Heh. Aren't you just using this as an excuse to purge the board?" Rosen looked at Norman Osborn with a half-smile, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
They both knew the game. In the main Marvel Universe, Stark Industries was a monolith. Howard Stark's genius had made them irreplaceable; the military didn't command Tony Stark, they begged him. But here, in the Raimi-verse, it was a dogfight. Oscorp was powerful, but Quest Aerospace was nipping at its heels, using bribes and political maneuvering to steal contracts.
If Rosen hadn't intervened, Quest would have won. Norman would have been desperate enough to use the Goblin serum, blow up the board, and descend into madness.
But Rosen had intervened. With the Scepter of Domination, General Slocum was now Oscorp's lapdog. Quest Aerospace was effectively neutered. So why did Norman need Rosen to eliminate the dissenting shareholders?
"You could force them out with a board vote," Rosen pointed out. "With Slocum in your pocket, Quest has no leverage. You want them gone because of a grudge, don't you?"
"Sir, you misunderstand," Norman said smoothly, not missing a beat. "A public boardroom battle would shake investor confidence. It might leak to the press. A... tragic accident at Quest Aerospace? That solves the problem quietly and boosts our stock value. Isn't that better for your investment?"
Rosen chuckled. "Good answer. I'll buy it. But let's make this the last time you try to play me, Norman."
He let the threat hang in the air. Norman stiffened slightly. He remembered watching General Slocum—a man who had previously treated Norman with contempt—suddenly glaze over and pledge undying loyalty to Rosen. Norman didn't know the Scepter was a one-time use item. In his eyes, Rosen could enslave minds at will.
"Of course, Sir," Norman said quickly, a bead of sweat forming on his temple. "I will never overstep again."
"Good," Rosen said, setting his glass down. "I'll handle Quest. Consider it done by tomorrow. And just so you know, I'll be assigning a representative to permanently assist you at Oscorp. Someone to keep things... streamlined."
Norman nodded. "I welcome the assistance."
Translation: You're putting a handler on me. But Norman was used to oversight. Better a handler than a hostile takeover.
"Don't look so grim, Norman," Rosen stood up. "Work hard for me, and I'll make Oscorp the greatest company in the multiverse. And to show I'm not all stick..."
He waved his hand. Two glass vials appeared on the coffee table, filled with glowing red liquid.
"What are these?" Norman asked, eyeing them warily.
Rosen didn't answer. instead, he gestured to a bodyguard standing by the door—a hulking man named Hogan (no relation to Happy).
"Come here," Rosen ordered. "Take off your shirt."
The bodyguard hesitated, looking at Norman. Norman nodded. The man stripped off his jacket and shirt, revealing a chest like a barrel.
Shing.
Before anyone could blink, the Moon Glaive appeared in Rosen's hand. He slashed it across the bodyguard's chest in a blur of motion.
It wasn't a fatal blow, but it was brutal. A gash ten inches long opened up, cutting through muscle and exposing rib bone. Blood sprayed across the expensive carpet. The bodyguard didn't even have time to scream before he collapsed to his knees in shock.
"Drink," Rosen commanded.
A Water Elemental materialized from the floor, its liquid form holding one of the vials to the bodyguard's lips. It forced the red liquid down his throat.
Norman watched, horrified, as the magic took hold.
In seconds, the bleeding stopped. The torn muscle knit itself back together. The skin closed up, leaving not even a scar. The bodyguard gasped, touching his chest in disbelief. The pain was gone.
"My god," Norman whispered, staring at the healed man. "Sir... is this... can this be mass-produced?"
His mind immediately went to military contracts. A serum that healed fatal wounds in seconds? It was worth trillions.
"Don't even think about it," Rosen said, shattering Norman's dreams. "It's magic, not science. It heals almost anything short of a severed limb. These are for you and Harry. Two lives. Use them wisely."
He tossed the second vial to Norman, who caught it like it was made of diamond.
"Thank you, Sir," Norman breathed, clutching the potion. "Thank you for your generosity."
Rosen smiled. He knew exactly how to motivate a man like Norman Osborn. Fear kept him in line, but power? Power made him loyal.
"Now," Rosen said, his form beginning to shimmer as he prepared to leave. "I have a lab to burn down. Get the paperwork ready for the acquisition."
With a pop of displaced air, Rosen vanished, leaving Norman Osborn standing in his study, holding a bottle of magic and realizing that the Green Goblin mask in his secret lab was starting to look very... unnecessary.