Inside a hospital for disabled veterans in New York City, Emil Blonsky walked through the halls with unfocused eyes.
He kept thinking about that night two days ago. If it hadn't been for that mysterious woman, he probably would have ended up in this same hospital.
Every time he remembered that green monster's fists and the mangled bodies of his comrades, fear and shame twisted in his gut. He wanted to defeat that green guy with his own hands.
Today he had come to visit a former comrade—a young man whose spine had been shattered during the mission to capture the Hulk.
The injury left him unable to stand and infertile. On top of the spinal fracture, both legs had been amputated. Compared to the soldiers who had simply died, this living hell was an even greater torment.
If Blonsky ever ended up like that, he would probably end his own life. He was a soldier, a pure soldier, and he lived for the fight.
If he had possessed his current combat experience ten years earlier, he might have considered retiring to an office job—drinking tea, reading newspapers, training recruits, and giving the occasional inspiring speech.
But he was already pushing forty. For ordinary people, that was still middle age with decades left. For a soldier like him, forty felt ancient. His body was already struggling to keep up with his reflexes.
He had come here for two reasons: to visit his comrade, and to see what his own future might look like. He knew a soldier's fate—either die on a mission or return home broken.
Afterward, the military might award him a Medal of Valor. Those cheap bronze medals would be handed out like participation trophies, and the government would pay a modest pension before discarding him in a place like this to rot.
Of course, he had no real complaints. It was simply the fate of a soldier. Dying in battle still seemed better than wasting away here.
Blonsky thought about many things, but what truly moved him was General Ross's Super Soldier program. He had considered it carefully: this was his only real chance to defeat the Hulk.
This visit was his way of saying goodbye to the past. From now on, he wouldn't need comrades.
"Excuse me, which room is Joseph Branton in?" Emil Blonsky asked a member of the medical staff, holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Joseph is in room 46," the staff member replied.
"Okay, thank you." Blonsky nodded politely and made his way to room 46.
Inside lay a young man around twenty years old—an age that should have been filled with hope and energy.
Instead, the boy only showed the weary exhaustion of someone already halfway to death, his eyes dull and lifeless.
Blonsky placed the bouquet on the bedside table and stood quietly, simply looking at Joseph.
A short while later, noise erupted from outside. Blonsky stood up to check it out.
When he returned, he said, "Oscorp wants to test a new type of serum. They've made breakthrough progress in animals—successfully regenerating limbs in mice with severed legs. The probability of success in human trials is very high. Do you want to participate?"
Joseph, who hadn't spoken in a long time, slowly turned his head. A spark of hope ignited in his dead eyes. "I want to participate. Help me!"
"No problem," Blonsky replied with a smile.
He didn't mind lending a hand, and he was curious to see if the serum actually worked. If it did, he could keep fighting as long as he stayed alive. That was more than enough for him.
Soon, Blonsky secured permission for the trial. The disabled soldiers watched eagerly, seeing it as a possible new lease on life.
Still, most were unwilling to risk the unknown dangers of a human trial. They figured a better, safer version would come along later.
Before long, Oscorp personnel took Joseph and Emil away to a special facility for the human trial.
Blonsky observed from the side. A test tube full of serum gave him an idea. He knew the doctor in charge—a man with zero medical ethics who would do anything for the right price.
Blonsky simply expressed interest in seeing the serum and casually handed the man ten thousand dollars.
In exchange, he received one-third of the serum. The remaining two-thirds, diluted with water, would still be enough for the trial.
Even if it failed, the consequences wouldn't be major. In Blonsky's eyes, the way Joseph was living now was worse than death anyway.
For Dr. Reed, treating patients was just a job, and every job required proper compensation. If the pay wasn't enough, he simply wouldn't work.
This kind of ruthless doctor wasn't welcome in regular hospitals, but he was exactly what Oscorp needed in this veteran facility.
Oscorp paid him five thousand dollars for the trial, but Emil offered ten thousand just to "see the serum." Money talked. When money made a request, Dr. Reed fulfilled it.
"Joseph, this is the greatest opportunity of your life," Dr. Reed said, holding the slightly diluted serum as he entered the operating room inside the special treatment area.
"Doctor, can I really recover my body?" Joseph asked, eyes full of desperate hope.
"Of course, of course. This is Oscorp's latest technology. It can repair all human injuries. Even with a broken spine and amputated legs, it will make you whole again," Dr. Reed replied, trying to sound gentle. Instead, his voice came across as even more hypocritical and cunning.
"Get ready, Joseph. You're about to start a brand new life. In just a moment, everything will change." Dr. Reed slowly injected the light blue serum into Joseph's bloodstream.
The serum began to take effect under the young man's eager, hopeful gaze.
...
Author's Note:
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