~Manhattan Midtown, Worthington Tower~
This towering steel giant stood in the world's largest concentration of skyscrapers, shoulder to shoulder with the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, and Chrysler Building, forming a beautiful skyline in the economic and cultural heart of the nation.
Marcus Worthington strode into the conference room...
As the helmsman of this multinational corporation, the sixty-year-old who had just celebrated his birthday last week still appeared vigorous, exuding the natural authority of a leader; solemn and imposing like an aging lion in his twilight years.
"A young genius hyped up by the media, and a mediocre company heir... they're like newborn calves recklessly charging into the biopharmaceutical field, encroaching on Worthington's empire, and you can't do anything about it?" Marcus slammed a copy of Vanity Fair magazine onto the table.
On the cover was a smiling young black-haired man, with the subtitle «Pioneering a New Era in American Pharmaceuticals» glaring prominently.
"I invest billions annually in drug research, yet what we get is shrinking market share... A mere twenty-one-year-old invents a gene therapy curing brain degeneration in a university lab. Tell me gentlemen, aren't you ashamed?!"
Facing Marcus Worthington's tirade, the senior executives from various departments dared not rebut, all keeping their heads down. They knew well the domineering style of Worthington's leader... The "tyrant" nickname circulating privately wasn't just empty talk.
Marcus' stern gaze swept across the room and found everyone too intimidated to speak, which only fueled his anger further...
This lion-like old man had steered the company for nearly thirty years, consistently striving to establish Worthington as an industry monopoly, dominating with unstoppable momentum and absolute authority... and just like Stark Industries, keeping the entire cake for themselves while letting others scramble for crumbs.
"It's just media hype. Oscorp failed in transitioning to defense, and with Norman Osborn's death, their stock plummeted. Harry Osborn is just using this gene therapy news to stabilize share prices and his position on the board," a bespectacled middle-aged man mustered the courage to say.
When Oscorp first announced plans to enter biopharmaceuticals, Worthington executives hadn't taken it seriously...
Developing new drugs required unimaginable time and money. That a college student could invent a gene therapy completely curing brain degeneration sounded like fantasy.
Not everyone was a genius like Stark, and even Tony's achievements relied on Stark Industries' support. This wasn't an era where lone researchers in modest labs could make breakthroughs...
Modern science emphasized teamwork and massive funding, especially in biopharma where every new drug required substantial institutional backing.
"Mr. Hamilton, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Friends at FDA tell me this gene therapy shows remarkable results in clinical trials and will soon hit the market," Marcus said coldly, "Do you know conservative estimates value this drug at four billion upon release?"
Under the CEO's piercing gaze, Hamilton broke out in a cold sweat. He hadn't thoroughly investigated the new drug, assuming it was just Oscorp's PR stunt.
"This company thrives by constantly advancing like wolves claiming new territory! Complacency has made you lose ambition. Even Stark Industries faces competitors like Hammer and Cross Technologies... What right does Worthington have to stop progressing?!" Marcus' stern tone reflected his frustration.
Family matters had distracted him from management in recent years, otherwise Oscorp would never have dared enter biopharma so easily...
At the first sign, he would have struck hard; spreading rumors about side effects, secretly acquiring the formula, attacking Oscorp's stock, inciting board rebellion against Harry Osborn... countless tactics were available.
Compared to the seasoned corporate predator Marcus Worthington, Oscorp's young CEO and the media-hyped genius were like unfledged eaglets... perhaps they'd soar someday, but for now, they were easy prey.
"There's only one path for Oscorp into biopharma... submitting to Worthington's will!"
As executives nodded in agreement, Hamilton proposed: "I'll approach Sean Cyphers. Though he's contracted with Oscorp, we can intercept before market release. If he sells us the formula, Oscorp collapses completely!"
Others chimed in:
"We could have senators question the drug's safety,"
"Find clinical trial patients to claim adverse reactions,"
"Drag Oscorp into legal quagmire with proper maneuvering..."
The previously timid executives now buzzed with ideas. With Worthington's resources, blocking Oscorp's biopharma entry would be effortless.
A monopoly's accumulated power was unimaginable to outsiders. Even an entity like Stark Industries entering biopharma would have to share profits with Worthington... Marcus would never allow uncontrolled competition.
The pie was finite. To maintain position, market competitors must be controlled, preventing new predators from entering. Every top predator was an enemy!
Seeing his team's proposals, Marcus' expression softened slightly. Oscorp and their young genius couldn't truly threaten Worthington... he was just using this to address corporate complacency.
"Handle the Oscorp situation. I expect satisfactory results." Marcus cut off discussion, then asked his real concern, "What's Worthington Labs' progress?"
After dismissing others, the R&D director reported hesitantly:
"Under guise of gene mapping, we've collected blood samples across the East Coast. But the Mutant Gene suppressor... the divergent Mutant Genes prove extremely resilient. Our initial suppressors only offer temporary effects..."
The aging lion slumped slightly, exhaustion showing through his authoritative demeanor as he insisted, "Continue research. With my investment, I demand results!"
The director didn't understand his boss' obsession. Mutant suppressors had no commercial viability beyond potential military use. The massive R&D costs couldn't be recouped through Department of Defense contracts alone. Was the famously visionary Marcus Worthington blind to this?
Sensing something deeper, the director kept silent. Smart men knew when not to ask questions, even when glimpsing unsettling truths...
Alone in the quiet conference room, the lion-like old man thought of his son and cursed bitterly, "Damn Mutants!"
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Read ahead on my P@treon...
[email protected]/MayaMatengele01