Chapter 37: Powerful Self-Healing Ability

The clone known as X-24 remained strapped to the cold surgical table, eyes locked on the miraculous sight before him.

One of the subjects—once an ordinary criminal—was now displaying regenerative powers that rivaled his own. The man's flesh, freshly cut and torn, was already knitting itself together, layer by layer, at an inhuman pace. Muscles reconnected. Skin sealed. Blood stopped flowing.

The clone swallowed hard, stunned.

A few days ago, this man was just a petty thief. And now? Now he possessed a formidable self-healing ability, the same kind the clone had been born with.

He didn't understand the science behind it. Terms like genome mapping, platelet acceleration, and granulation tissue meant little to him. But the results? They were impossible to ignore.

He slowly turned his head toward Nathan.

The young scientist was standing calmly at his workstation, arms crossed, analyzing data, unbothered by the horror he'd orchestrated.

As the days passed, the neurotoxin slowly faded from the clone's system. His body began responding again—twitching fingers, slight head movements—but the magnetic cuffs holding him down were unbreakable.

And then came the pain.

He could no longer suppress the growls rumbling from his throat, low, guttural noises that escaped involuntarily with every new test.

Ironically, that pain brought a strange comfort to the other three captives.

If the silent monster could scream, then maybe they weren't weak. Maybe they were just human.

Meanwhile, Nathan paid no mind to any of them. He was focused solely on the next step in his research.

Now that the partial replication of the self-healing factor had succeeded on a subject, it was time for the real test:

Himself.

He moved with mechanical precision, repeating every step of the previous experiment, ensuring no errors in his execution. Everything had to be exact—the genome cocktail, the injection sequence, the cell activation catalysts.

The hours passed.

Finally, he stood before the mirror, examining his arm.

"Now… it's time to test it."

With that, he picked up a surgical scalpel and made a deliberate cut across his forearm.

A sharp hiss echoed through the room as the blade sliced flesh. Blood welled up immediately, trickling down his arm and staining the floor below.

Pain surged through him.

His face twitched.

Veins stood out along his neck and forehead. He clenched his teeth.

But he didn't scream. He didn't flinch. His eyes never left the wound.

The three car thieves gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. They had all been subjected to that same agony. None of them had lasted more than a few seconds without screaming.

Yet here was Nathan—cutting himself open without so much as a grunt.

The fear in their hearts deepened.

"He's not human..." one of them whispered.

"He's a demon in human skin..."

And then—it happened.

The blood began to coagulate.

Beneath a high-powered microscope, Nathan watched as cells burst into activity. Granulation tissue began to form, tissue bridges wove together, and fibroblasts surged into the wound.

Within minutes, his arm had healed completely. Only the dried blood hinted that there had ever been an injury.

Nathan wiped the blood clean with a cloth and inspected the skin beneath. Smooth. Unbroken. As if the wound had never existed.

"Perfect." A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "The regeneration factor has fully integrated."

"Not quite Wolverine-level, but close. Very close."

For the first time, Nathan allowed himself to feel a sliver of pride.

He had evolved.

Previously, he'd relied on the super soldier serum to enhance his body. It gave him strength, stamina, and a slight boost to healing. But it was still within human limits.

Now?

Now he could survive injuries that would kill any normal person.

Gunshots. Knife wounds. Even damage to vital organs—he could recover from them all, given enough time.

"This changes everything."

He touched the smooth skin on his forearm once more and nodded in satisfaction.

But he wasn't done.

This was only a partial replication of Wolverine's self-healing ability.

He had glimpsed what was possible—but the full blueprint still eluded him.

"I won't stop here," he whispered. "I need the full genome. I want everything Wolverine had."

He turned toward the clone, bound and still recovering.

"I've also noticed something else," Nathan said to himself, eyes narrowing. "The Adamantium in your body… it's growing."

Adamantium—the indestructible metal fused into Wolverine's skeleton.

"It's not just sitting there. It's evolving," he mused. "It's forming a beta version, replacing the organic bone structure entirely."

But that came with a cost.

"The Adamantium leeches toxins. It slowly kills the surrounding tissue, constantly battling the very healing factor that keeps you alive."

For now, the effect was minimal. But over time?

"It builds up. It eats away at your body. That's why Wolverine aged so rapidly. That's why his healing factor eventually lost the fight."

Nathan leaned closer to the restrained clone.

"It's like having a time bomb in your body."

But he wasn't afraid.

"I won't make that mistake. I won't implant Adamantium into my bones."

He turned to the screen and reviewed his research logs.

"It has its advantages, sure. It protects the brain and internal organs. Makes you nearly indestructible. But it's a slow death sentence."

His stomach growled, interrupting his thoughts.

Nathan glanced down, hand resting on his abdomen.

"Time to eat."

He cleaned his tools, sterilized the room, and ascended the stairs from the underground lab into the main apartment above.

Soon, the smell of grilled meat filled the air.

His meal was massive—plates of rice, chicken, and lean beef. His metabolism had increased exponentially since the genome infusion, and his appetite had grown to match it.

As he ate, he opened his laptop and began purchasing stock.

Specifically, stock in Oscorp.

The company's valuation had plummeted in recent weeks. Once a technological empire, Oscorp was now in disarray.

Two major factors had led to its downfall.

First, Norman Osborn's military research disaster. His failed serum experiments had lost the trust of the U.S. military, their most lucrative client. Without government contracts, the company had bled funds rapidly.

Second, several of Oscorp's largest shareholders had died under mysterious circumstances.

Whispers spread across the financial world. Rumors of foul play, of corporate sabotage.

No one wanted to touch Oscorp stock now.

But Nathan?

Nathan saw opportunity.

In the shadows, he had been acquiring shares—quietly, relentlessly.

By now, he owned 28% of the company.

"One more push," he muttered between bites, eyes glued to the stock market graphs. "Just one more deal, and I'll be the majority shareholder."

Tonight, he planned to visit the final major shareholder in person.

If he could convince—or force—them to sell their 20% stake, and sweep up the remaining shares scattered across the public market, he would secure 51% ownership.

Controlling interest.

He would own Oscorp.

And with that power would come everything inside the company—its labs, its research, its weapons.

The foundation of his rise to power.

And most importantly?

Access to the Superior Spider-Man Project.

Nathan's fingers flew across the keyboard, snatching up public shares from panicked sellers.

But a sudden alert stopped him.

"Hmm?"

Another buyer was on the move—scooping up Oscorp shares at the same time.

A frown crept across his face.

"Someone's competing with me? Now?"

He leaned back, tapping his finger on the desk.

"Could it be Norman Osborn? The Green Goblin himself? Trying to rebuild his empire?"

His eyes narrowed.

"Doesn't matter. Tonight, I get that final 20%. After that, no one can touch me."

"Oscorp will be mine."

His voice was calm. Cold. Absolute.