[Mysteries On Marvel] Chapter 46/50 (Patreon)

Watching Eren turn and start walking away, Natasha wondered if there was something wrong with her outfit today. Why else would Eren, who had just ignored her—this stunning beauty—act this way?

However, when she turned and caught a glimpse of the men nearby, their gazes burning as if they wanted to strip her bare and devour her whole, Natasha quickly dispelled any doubts about her own charm.

It's not me.

Instead, she speculated, He must have found out about my identity beforehand and is wary of my role as an agent. That's why he's so cold to me.

With this thought, Natasha frowned slightly and tapped the Bluetooth earpiece in her ear, speaking in a low voice.

"The plan failed. The target seems to have learned about my identity through some unknown source and is now highly cautious of me. Should I try a different approach to get close to him?"

It wasn't long before a deep voice responded on the other end.

"No need. If he's discovered your identity as an agent, just return for now. Tony Stark appears to have invented something incredible in Afghanistan. I've already arranged an interview for you tomorrow morning. You can come back and familiarize yourself with your new cover identity."

Hearing this, Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Looks like my vacation plans are ruined again."

"The mission is urgent, so your vacation will have to be postponed."

"Fine," she replied, resigned to Nick Fury's relentless scheduling.

Meanwhile, back at his old apartment, Eren was somewhat surprised but relieved to find that Natasha hadn't followed him or tried to pester him.

It seems that while I'm on SHIELD's radar now, they haven't prioritized me yet.

This suited him just fine.

After taking a shower and tossing his clothes into the washing machine, Eren sat down at his desk and pulled out the morning's edition of The New York Times from his mailbox.

On the front page was an eye-catching headline: Norman Osborn, Chairman of Osborn Corporation, Gravely Ill and Near Death. Accompanying the article was a photo of Norman Osborn lying in a hospital bed.

The lengthy article detailed Norman Osborn's illustrious career, his groundbreaking achievements, and his tragic downfall due to the Osborn family's hereditary disease. The tone seemed to lament the loss of such a brilliant scientist and entrepreneur while carrying an undercurrent of irony.

Norman Osborn...

Seated at his desk, Eren tapped his fingers lightly on the surface, producing a rhythmic sound.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

From the moment he found the newspaper in his mailbox that morning, Eren realized this might be an opportunity—a quick path to wealth.

Since becoming aware of his potential financial challenges, Eren had been actively seeking ways to make money. Tony Stark, soon to be rescued by SHIELD, represented one such opportunity.

Similarly, the deathly ill Norman Osborn was another.

The Osborn Corporation, while not as valuable as Stark Industries, was still a giant worth billions. In the field of biotechnology, its prominence rivaled Stark Industries' dominance in weaponry.

There was no doubt about it—someone like Norman Osborn wouldn't lack money.

If Eren could offer something to save his life, Osborn wouldn't hesitate to pay handsomely.

But...

Can I really save him?

Eren's gaze fell on the vial of Universal Antidote in his hand, and he pondered.

Does the Osborn family's hereditary disease count as a virus?

After a moment of contemplation, Eren retrieved the coin he had infused with spiritual energy and began divining whether the Universal Antidote could treat the Osborn family's condition.

To ensure accuracy, Eren channeled a significant amount of spiritual energy into the coin, causing its surface to shimmer with a radiant glow.

"Clink!"

Flipping the coin in his hand, Eren revealed its result—a clear affirmation.

It actually works?

Seeing the outcome of his divination, Eren realized he had underestimated the potency of the Universal Antidote.

"If this can cure the Osborn family's disease, then I must seize this opportunity."

With that thought, Eren turned on his computer and began searching for Norman Osborn's home address.

The location of Osborn's estate wasn't hard to find. After locating the relevant information online, Eren packed the Universal Antidote into his bag and hailed a taxi, leaving Chinatown.

Norman Osborn's estate, situated in the affluent Long Island area, occupied a considerable expanse of land.

It took over an hour for Eren's taxi to reach the southeastern corner of Long Island, where the estate was located.

At the entrance stood a massive iron gate, guarded by two uniformed security personnel who remained vigilant. Inside, additional patrols provided robust security, making it nearly impossible for ordinary individuals to trespass.

This level of security didn't surprise Eren. He had anticipated it when he saw photos of the estate online.

Fortunately, Eren had prepared for this.

Stepping out of the taxi, he walked straight to the estate's gate. One of the guards quickly approached, wary of his presence.

"Sir, who are you—"

Before the guard could finish his sentence, Eren subtly activated Dreadful Gaze. The moment his eyes swept over the two guards, their bodies froze, trembling violently as if they had seen something horrifying. Their minds descended into chaos.

Had Eren not restrained the power of Dreadful Gaze, those guards would likely be unconscious on the ground by now.

It took several moments for them to regain their composure. When they did, their fear-filled eyes fixed on Eren.

(End of Chapter)

"Open the gate. I have an appointment with Norman Osborn. Take me to him."

As Eren spoke, he subtly employed a hypnotic technique from the Mind Imprint, modulating his voice into an enchanting rhythm that irresistibly drew others in, compelling trust and obedience.

Combined with the residual effects of the earlier Dreadful Gaze, the two guards standing before Eren quickly surrendered their willpower. Subconsciously, they treated his words as absolute truth.

After a brief flash of confusion in their eyes, one of the guards took out a keycard and opened the gate, leading Eren into the Osborn estate.

"Very well, sir. Mr. Osborn is resting in his bedroom. I'll take you to him."

Eren nodded and followed the guard into the estate.

The large iron gate opened to reveal a striking angel fountain. The estate itself was vast, meticulously maintained, and radiated an aura of orderly sophistication.

Despite its grandeur, there were few people within the estate. Besides a gardener tending to the plants, Eren saw no one else on his way inside.

Entering the main building, a castle-like mansion, they were quickly approached by a middle-aged butler with a balding head, wearing a suit and white gloves. He frowned as he walked toward them.

"Jarwin, I recall telling you that the estate is not accepting visitors today. If you can't give me a satisfactory explanation, you may need to start looking for a new job tomorrow."

The guard quickly responded, "Butler Brian, this distinguished gentleman has an appointment with Mr. Osborn, so I brought him in."

Butler Brian frowned. "An appointment with the master? Why wasn't I informed?"

As Brian turned to scrutinize Eren, his gaze was abruptly engulfed by the icy depths of Eren's eyes.

"You know now," Eren said calmly.

Activating Dreadful Gaze once again, Eren swiftly dismantled Brian's mental defenses. With practiced ease, he followed up with the hypnotic technique from the Mind Imprint.

Brian, despite his stronger willpower compared to the guards, quickly succumbed under the layered assault. Eren's soft, modulated voice combined with a series of intricate hand seals he performed in front of the butler. The shifting seals created afterimages, almost mesmerizing in their complexity, making it nearly impossible for an ordinary person to resist.

A few minutes later, Eren stood before a wooden door.

"This room will be quite dark, sir. It may take your eyes some time to adjust," Brian said before opening the door.

Eren nodded, and the butler opened the bedroom door.

Just as Brian had warned, the room was exceptionally dim. Heavy curtains blocked most of the sunlight, allowing only a faint glimmer to filter through.

In the center of the large, spacious room was a luxurious canopy bed surrounded by high-tech medical equipment.

A feeble coughing sound emerged from the figure lying in the bed, seemingly triggered by the sound of the door opening.

Seeing this, Brian immediately approached, pulling back the semi-transparent curtain to help the figure sit up.

"Sir, shall I call for a doctor?" Brian asked respectfully.

The man waved a trembling hand dismissively. "No need."

After catching his breath, the man looked up at Eren, standing at the doorway. A bitter smile spread across his face.

"Wow. Another one? To think someone could bypass my knowledge and have Brian bring you here—impressive. Let me guess, another important figure coming to take their piece? Ha! I'm not even dead yet, and you're already so eager. So, what is it you want? Who do you represent?"

Eren didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gestured toward Brian.

Seeing this, Norman Osborn waved his hand again. The butler obediently left, closing the door behind him. With the door shut, the room became even darker, almost pitch black.

Interestingly, Osborn's expression visibly relaxed as the light faded further.

"You seem to dislike light, Mr. Osborn," Eren remarked.

"That's correct," Norman replied, raising his diseased, trembling right hand and smirking bitterly. "I'm like a vampire from the legends now, allergic to sunlight."

He chuckled weakly, then continued, "How ironic. I gave millions the chance to live in the sunlight again, and now look at me—reduced to this."

Norman waved his hand again as if trying to say more, but his arm fell limply to his side.

Eren broke the silence. "The Osborn family's hereditary disease? Yes, I've heard of it. An extremely rare genetic condition that remains untreatable to this day."

"Indeed. So, why are you here?"

Eren answered directly. "In fact, that's precisely why I'm here."

Norman raised an eyebrow, suspicion flickering in his weakened eyes.

"Let me clarify—I'm not one of those opportunists hoping to carve out a piece of Osborn Corporation. I won't reveal whom I represent, but I'm here to propose a deal—a deal that could change your fate and save your life."

With that, Eren reached into his backpack and pulled out the Universal Antidote, placing it on a nearby machine.

"This is the Universal Antidote, a rare magical potion created by an alchemist from an extraordinary world. It can cure most diseases in existence, including your family's hereditary condition."

Norman scoffed, glancing disdainfully at the vial. "A universal potion? Magic? Do you think I'm a fool? There's no such thing as a true panacea."

"If you expect me to believe that this... concoction can cure the Osborn family's disease, you'd better come up with a more convincing explanation."

(End of Chapter)

"Oh, really?"

Eren chuckled lightly. "As I said, this is a magical potion."

"In the mundane world, it's true that no panacea exists, but that doesn't mean the same holds true in the mystical realm."

With those words, Eren activated Dreadful Gaze, intending to give Norman Osborn a firsthand experience of the incredible and mysterious power he wielded.

The overwhelming mental pressure condensed into a palpable force, crushing Norman Osborn's already feeble mental defenses. It penetrated deep into his psyche, planting a seed of fear.

"Huh?"

To Eren's surprise, Norman Osborn's mental resistance was shockingly fragile—far weaker than even the guards he had encountered earlier. It was as if Osborn's mind, ravaged by his illness and drained of vitality, was on the verge of shattering.

The mental force of Dreadful Gaze met no significant resistance, easily breaking through his defenses and sowing terror in his soul.

A moment later, Norman Osborn collapsed unconscious.

Eren frowned momentarily at the sight, then exhaled a breath of relief.

So, this Norman Osborn is indeed the weakest version—the ordinary human one from The Amazing Spider-Man. If he were even remotely connected to the Green Goblin, my Dreadful Gaze wouldn't have subdued him so easily.

But on the bright side, Norman's frailty presented an opportunity.

Initially, Eren had only planned to use Dreadful Gaze to demonstrate the existence of the mystical realm and validate the efficacy of the Universal Antidote. The goal was to strike a deal and secure significant funds from Norman Osborn.

However, Norman's vulnerability gave rise to a far more ambitious and audacious idea.

If his mental defenses are so weak, could I directly take control of Norman Osborn through hypnosis? Could I seize control of Osborn Corporation and have this colossal entity serve my purposes?

Of course, Eren was well aware that his current spiritual strength was insufficient to permanently alter someone's mind. Even with the advanced techniques of Dreadful Gaze and Mind Imprint, his hypnosis would be temporary at best. External stimuli or enough time could break the spell.

That limitation was why Eren had initially planned to negotiate with Norman Osborn rather than attempting direct control. After all, the Green Goblin—whether in the Marvel universe or elsewhere—was a notorious figure. Eren's mastery of hypnosis wasn't nearly advanced enough to subjugate such a dangerous individual.

If his hypnosis failed and provoked the Green Goblin's hostility, it would backfire disastrously.

Yet now, faced with Norman Osborn's glaring frailty, Eren saw an opportunity to experiment.

Without hesitation, Eren approached Norman's bedside. Using a secret technique recorded in Mind Imprint, he condensed a wisp of his spiritual energy into a seed and implanted it deep into Norman's subconscious, planting a seed of trust.

Simultaneously, he used the hypnotic modulation of his voice to reinforce the impression in Norman's mind, solidifying the hypnotic mark.

Five hours later.

When Eren emerged from the Osborn estate, his backpack held a document notarized by a lawyer—a stock transfer agreement.

This agreement had elevated Eren's status from a modestly wealthy man to the third-largest shareholder of Osborn Corporation, owning 5% of its shares.

Despite the recent turbulence in Osborn Corporation's stock due to Norman Osborn's illness, it remained a titan valued at over $200 billion. That 5% stake was worth over $10 billion.

With just one contract, Eren had become a billionaire.

However, this visible windfall was only part of the gain. What Eren truly valued lay hidden beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, back at the Osborn estate, Norman Osborn, who had consumed the Universal Antidote, watched in astonishment as the blemishes on his skin faded and his body rapidly regained vitality and energy. His hands trembled, not with weakness, but with excitement.

Beside him, the butler Brian's face was filled with disbelief. Were it not for the sharp pain in his leg—a result of pinching himself—he might have thought he was dreaming.

Minutes turned into hours.

Having changed into fresh clothes, Norman stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror in his room. He marveled at the strength and life coursing through his body, which had felt like a prison mere hours ago. A genuine smile of relief crossed his face.

"Being alive feels so good," he murmured.

Behind him, Brian's eyes shone with joy. As Osborn's loyal butler for over two decades, Norman's recovery was a blessing. At least now, Brian wouldn't have to worry about losing his well-paying job.

After standing by the window for a long while, Norman finally broke the silence.

"Brian, have Felicia inform all members of the board. Tomorrow, I want a meeting at Osborn Tower. Every board member must attend."

"Yes, sir," Brian replied, bowing slightly. He immediately understood what his master intended to do.

The news of Norman Osborn's critical condition had caused turmoil not only in the stock market but also within the company itself. Internally, power struggles and schemes had begun to surface.

Before, Norman had been too weak, both physically and mentally, to address any of it.

But now, everything had changed.

Brian, feeling reinvigorated, bowed again and left the room.

As the butler exited, Norman caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. A subtle, almost imperceptible glint of cruelty and malice flashed in his eyes.

"It's time to clean out the rats."

(End of Chapter)

After hailing a cab from Long Island back to Chinatown, Eren didn't head straight home. Instead, with his backpack slung over his shoulder, he walked toward the main street of Chinatown, home to its largest supermarkets and shops.

With the weekend almost over, Eren decided to stop by the mall and buy a safe. After all, his backpack now held a stock transfer contract worth over a hundred billion dollars. He felt it would be almost disrespectful not to enclose such a valuable document in a proper safe.

Smirking at the thought, Eren made his way toward the main intersection of Chinatown.

Chinatown was vast, divided into several sections: Left Street, Right Street, Upper Street, and Lower Street, with the main intersection serving as the central hub. Eren's three-story apartment building was located on the western edge of Lower Street.

These names, of course, were terms coined by the Chinese residents themselves.

Before Eren could reach the main street, a chubby hand suddenly smacked his rear from behind.

"Smack!"

The loud, unmistakable sound of skin-on-skin contact echoed, causing heads to turn. The hand, belonging to none other than Doug Wang, had landed squarely on the leather-skirt-clad backside of a passing woman.

"Ahhh! Pervert!"

The woman's high-pitched scream pierced the air, followed by the sharp sound of a slap as she landed a solid strike on Doug's round face.

"N-No... I didn't mean to..." Doug stammered, clutching his reddened cheek. But before he could explain further, the furious woman stormed off, leaving him standing amidst a crowd of onlookers.

The surrounding crowd quickly cast disdainful looks at Doug, their eyes filled with judgment, as if he were some irredeemable scoundrel.

Amid the disapproving gazes, however, a subtle mix of envy and admiration glimmered in the eyes of several male bystanders. They marveled at Doug's audacity and secretly envied the sensation his hand must have felt. A few older men even seemed to wish they could trade places with him.

After all, the woman in the leather skirt had a stunning figure that left more than a few jaws slack.

"Ugh! Pervert! So disgusting! Let's stay away from that sleazy guy," one young woman muttered to her friend, glaring at Doug.

"Yes, let's go quickly."

The crowd's disdain extended to Doug as women, young and old alike, hurriedly distanced themselves from him, looking as if they feared being targeted next.

Doug, clutching his cheek and on the verge of tears, protested weakly. "I'm not a pervert! I didn't mean to touch her... her... butt!"

A short distance away, Eren sidestepped the chubby boy's wandering hand, crossing his arms as he watched the scene unfold with an amused smile.

Doug, catching sight of Eren's smirking face, turned bright red. Humiliation and frustration bubbled up inside him.

"Ahhh! My reputation is ruined! I'll get you for this, Eren!"

With a roar, Doug charged at Eren, his chubby hands outstretched toward his friend's neck.

Eren easily sidestepped the attack and rolled his eyes. Ignoring the commotion, he resumed walking toward his destination.

Despite the humiliation, Doug wasn't one to give up. Fueled by indignation, he chased after Eren, determined to vent his frustrations.

After several dozen meters, Eren glanced over his shoulder at the panting Doug and said, "Alright, that's enough. Stop pretending."

"Pretending? I'm not pretending!" Doug huffed. "Ugh, my reputation! If my dad finds out, he's going to kill me with a frying pan!"

Though Chinatown was large, gossip traveled fast. A juicy scandal could spread from one end to the other within hours. Doug knew that if his hot-tempered father heard about him being labeled a pervert for smacking a woman's butt, he'd be in deep trouble.

"So, how did it feel?" Eren asked suddenly, his voice dripping with mockery.

Doug's mind instinctively recalled the fleeting moment of contact, and he blurted out, "It was bouncy—"

"Serves you right!" Eren interrupted with a smirk, resuming his walk.

Realizing what he had just said, Doug's face turned an even deeper shade of crimson. He wished he could disappear into the ground.

After a while, Doug managed to compose himself and caught up to Eren.

"Eren, what's with the backpack? Where are you headed? It's been ages since I've seen you out and about."

Doug's curiosity wasn't unfounded. It had been so long since he'd seen Eren in public that when he spotted him in the crowd earlier, he couldn't resist sneaking up to prank him. Unfortunately, his attempt had gone awry, leading to his current predicament.

"I'm just out to buy a safe," Eren replied casually.

"A safe? You should've come to me!" Doug exclaimed, puffing out his chest. "My uncle sells safes. If you're serious, I can take you to him. He'll give you the best discount."

Eren's eyes lit up. "Your uncle sells safes? Alright, take me there."

Eren wasn't particularly enticed by the discount but appreciated the reliability of buying from someone recommended by a friend. At least the quality would be trustworthy.

"Sure thing, but what do you need a safe for?" Doug asked as they walked. "Just so you know, my uncle's safes are top-tier, so even at cost price, they're not cheap. Don't blame me if you think it's too expensive and feel like you wasted your trip."

(End of Chapter)

"Enough talking, lead the way!"

With Doug Wang guiding him, Eren soon arrived at an upscale furniture mall in Chinatown. Doug's uncle's safe store was located within.

Navigating through the familiar layout, Doug led Eren upstairs to the second floor. After winding through a few aisles, they stopped in front of a discreet yet luxurious safe shop.

Before they even stepped inside, Doug shouted, "Uncle! Uncle! Stop napping and come out to greet your customers!"

A disgruntled voice came from within. "I hear you, you noisy brat! Do you want to deafen me?"

Moments later, an enormous figure, easily several times Doug's size, rose slowly from behind the cashier counter. The man, weighing at least 300 pounds, bore a striking resemblance to Doug.

Eren's gaze flickered between Doug and his uncle, and he couldn't help but smirk inwardly.

The genes in this family are truly something.

Unfazed by his uncle's scolding, Doug grinned and said, "Uncle, this is my best friend from school. He's looking to buy a safe. Help him out, would you?"

Doug's uncle turned to scrutinize Eren, noting his youthful, student-like appearance. Shaking his head, he remarked, "At your age, you don't really need a safe. If you're just looking for a place to stash some Playboy magazines or workout DVDs, I can give you an old, small safe that your parents won't be able to open."

Before Eren could respond, Doug jumped in excitedly. "Wait, Playboy? Eren, do you have that kind of stuff?"

Eren shot Doug an exasperated glare. "Seriously? Do you think I need to hide magazines in my school locker like you? I live alone; I don't need to hide anything."

Before Doug could retort, flustered and indignant, Eren continued, "I'm buying a safe to protect my valuables. My house was almost broken into recently by a group of burglars. I figured it's safer to lock things away."

Mentioning the burglars brought a grimace to Doug's uncle's face. "If that's the case, then you definitely need a good safe. Trust me, those idiots wouldn't know how to open a high-end safe even if they tried."

After throwing in a jab at the burglars, Doug's uncle asked Eren about the safe's intended location and size requirements. He then introduced a few cost-effective models suitable for home use.

Despite being labeled "cost-effective," the shop's premium safes were far from cheap. The most affordable model started at over $2,000.

After comparing features, Eren ultimately chose a medium-sized alloy safe, roughly the size of a refrigerator, to place in his basement. Additionally, he bought a small, compact safe similar in size to the hidden compartment under his bed, intending to see if it could fit there.

The two safes cost Eren over $10,000, even with a 40% discount thanks to Doug's family connection. Without the discount, the bill would have easily exceeded $20,000.

Both safes were heavy. The larger one required precise measurements and professional installation to ensure security and stability. Fortunately, the shop offered delivery and installation services, saving Eren considerable hassle.

Doug's uncle, despite his size, worked with surprising efficiency. After Eren signed the check, the shop staff promptly retrieved two brand-new safes from the warehouse and arranged for a team to deliver and install them at Eren's house.

They even offered Eren a ride back as part of the delivery.

Back home, Eren supervised the installation team as they moved the larger safe into his basement and began securing it in place. Meanwhile, he carried the smaller safe upstairs to his bedroom.

However, as Eren climbed the stairs to the third floor, an inexplicable sense of unease washed over him. His mood darkened, weighed down by an oppressive and gloomy feeling.

What's going on?

He paused, sensing something amiss. Scanning his surroundings carefully, he activated his Spirit Sight.

His vision shifted, revealing faint gray mists seeping from the partially open door of his bedroom. The ominous, shadowy hues seemed to shroud the entire house in an aura of dread.

At the same time, a faint yet pungent stench of decay began to permeate the air, worming its way into Eren's nostrils.

Calmly but warily, Eren set down the heavy safe. His right hand moved instinctively to the pistol at his waist, while his left hand reached for the grenade in his pocket.

Approaching the bedroom door cautiously, he used his Spirit Sight to observe every detail.

When he reached the door, what he saw through the narrow gap made his pupils contract sharply, and his entire body tensed.

The sight before him was grotesque.

The only window in the bedroom had been covered with curtains, plunging the room into a dim, grayish light. The walls, once pristine and orderly, were now adorned with frames—dozens of wooden frames nailed meticulously across the walls.

Inside these frames were spiders of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

Hundreds of spiders had been turned into specimens, pinned to the frames with silver nails. They were arranged in an intricate, grotesque pattern resembling an inverted spider spread across the walls.

The specimens, despite being arranged with precision, had clearly been hastily prepared. The faint odor of decay emanating from the spiders suggested that they hadn't been fully preserved.

It seemed whoever had put them up was in a rush, completing their work hurriedly. Judging by the struggle marks on some of the spiders, they had likely been alive when pinned, their lives slowly ebbing away.

Now, they were deathly still.

Only their dark, desiccated eyes remained, gazing eerily into the upside-down world they had been left in.

(End of Chapter)

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