Chapter 53: Collaboration?

When Joss returned to the base, it caused a bit of a stir—nothing too dramatic, but not entirely unnoticed either. After all, he was someone already marked as dead; his sudden reappearance naturally drew some surprise. Still, the regular soldiers had no way of knowing the specifics behind the missions assigned to Joss and his fellow elites, and the few acquaintances Joss had were all busy with their own affairs, so he was spared a barrage of questions.

Thus, after completing a few necessary formalities, Joss smoothly reentered the base. In the days that followed, he was granted several more days of leave. Yet Joss was well aware that these seemingly leisurely, peaceful days were merely the calm before a coming storm.

He didn’t idle away his time. Instead, using the lull to his advantage, Joss discreetly set things in motion with Little Black’s help, then settled in to wait.

Three more days passed—making a full week since his return—when, as expected, Joss received a summons from the highest ranks of the base.

...

"Sir, Joss reporting for duty."

Facing the man in sunglasses before him, Joss didn’t display his usual reckless bravado, instead adopting the demeanor of an ordinary soldier with just a hint of pride in his abilities. After all, he had just pulled off a significant victory; to act completely unaffected would only arouse suspicion.

"So you’re Joss? My name is Duncan." The man with the sunglasses, Duncan, nodded slightly, seeming entirely satisfied with Joss. "I’ve read your file. It was your strategy, I’m told, that destroyed the enemy base. The others seem to have great faith in you as well."

Joss considered a moment, then, without pretense, nodded with calm arrogance. "Yes, Commander Duncan. I have always led by virtue. Naturally, they were won over by my character."

Duncan chuckled at that. "Character? I won’t deny you have it, but I suspect it took a bit of force to convince some of those young men, didn’t it?"

Joss grinned, letting out a low laugh. "A bit of force, perhaps—just a little."

"Somehow I feel we’re not talking about quite the same thing... But never mind, that’s not important."

...

"Aside from that, there’s something else I called you here for." After a few moments of banter, Duncan slowly produced a file and placed it on the desk, his eyes behind the sunglasses fixed intently on Joss.

"In our world, do you envy those with extraordinary powers?"

At those words, Joss knew the real discussion was about to begin.

"Extraordinary powers..." Joss mused, and then his eyes lit with unmistakable greed. "Who wouldn’t envy them? As a warrior, the desire to grow stronger is an irresistible temptation."

But then, abruptly, Joss shifted his tone. "Unfortunately, such power is rare and elusive. The superhero Hulk, for instance, only gained his terrifying strength by being struck by some kind of radiation—a chance in a billion, really."

As he spoke, Joss’s expression grew tinged with pity. "For those who gain such power, it’s an opportunity. For those who fail, it’s certain death and oblivion."

This wasn’t just an act—Joss genuinely felt a measure of concern, perhaps sympathy, for the Marvel world itself. No matter how the comics retconned their stories, or how the films altered their canon, in this universe, every individual who gained superhuman abilities was, in some way, chosen by fate.

Sometimes it was decades of family gene editing. Sometimes it was a one-in-a-billion mutation. Sometimes your father was Magneto and you were born a top-tier mutant.

To outsiders, Peter Parker became Spider-Man by a simple spider bite, instantly gaining fantastic powers. But the truth was more complex. Even setting aside Peter’s intellect—far beyond ordinary—necessary for inventing web shooters, one could only wonder how many people that spider had bitten, yet, aside from Peter and the girl who became Spider-Gwen, only two had actually mutated.

And the others bitten? Did they die, fall ill, or transform into something horrifying and unnamable? No one really knew.

Seeing the longing mixed with regret in Joss’s eyes, Duncan smiled with the slyness of one who’s found the perfect mark.

...

It was precisely those who yearned for power yet found themselves barred from it whom they favored most. People like that didn’t require elaborate brainwashing; the lure of power alone would suffice to make them cooperate with the plan.

Clearing his throat, Duncan spoke slowly. "Everyone knows the risks you mentioned. But what if I told you our base now possesses a method of enhancement with a very high success rate—and no side effects, even in failure? Would you be interested?"

"A method to become stronger?" Joss appeared genuinely puzzled.

"That’s right. You must know that our American hero, Captain America, underwent an experimental procedure—he was injected with the super-soldier serum. Not only did it slow his aging, so that even now, near a hundred years old, he looks like a young man, but it also granted him immense physical abilities."

"But... I thought that serum was lost during the war?" Joss pointedly raised the flaw in Duncan’s claim.

Duncan grinned, showing his teeth. "You’re not as ordinary as your file suggests—an ordinary person wouldn’t care about such details."

Before Joss could respond, Duncan raised his voice. "But I like that! The desire to become stronger, to gain power—that’s essential!"

He picked up the file from the desk and showed it to Joss. The photos inside depicted several vials of serum, each a different, dazzling color.

"You’re not seeing things. These are all super-soldier serums, and, under our military doctor, Dr. Curt Connors, they’re even more potent than the one Captain America received!"

Joss didn’t leap from his seat with excitement; instead, he frowned and looked at Duncan. "Which brings us back to the earlier question—these were supposed to have vanished during the war. How did Dr. Connors manage to recreate them?"

Duncan’s mouth curled into a shark-like grin, his voice turning sinister. "Are you sure you want to know? Because after you hear this, the nature of our conversation might change forever."