After slipping the doctor a little cash, Zod walked away with a detailed list of retired veterans and their full medical files.
He immediately crossed out anyone with family, then removed those who were too old, and finally cut anyone whose combat record or physical condition didn't meet the bar. Even after all that, there were still over a hundred qualified candidates. That alone said everything about war-driven America—this New York hospital wasn't the only place overflowing with retired soldiers. Add up all the VA hospitals across the country, and the numbers were staggering. Zod felt he'd never have to worry about manpower again.
America even had a formal "lobbyist" profession. Worried that he wasn't exactly a silver-tongued type, Zod hired three lobbyists on the spot to help persuade the veterans.
Even though they had a feeling nothing good could come from someone like Zod, this was a country where money ruled all. The lobbyists had long since abandoned the concept of conscience. Armed with their glib tongues—no, persuasive rhetoric—they successfully convinced these soldiers, men who had long given up hope and were simply waiting to die on hospital beds.
They all wanted to stand again. Otherwise Oscorp's lizard serum would never have been developed in the first place. Connors had created it because he wanted his arm back.
After signing a brutally one-sided contract, the disabled soldiers essentially sold themselves into Zod's service. He immediately arranged for them to be transported to Texas.
The base—formed by merging several surrounding farms—had become a massive super-ranch. The land was now lush and green, the air crisp and clean. In Texas, this was nothing short of miraculous.
With more than three thousand acres, the place was wide enough to play football on. Zod still hadn't decided how he wanted to use all that space.
"Boss…"
The disabled veterans were baffled the moment they arrived. Weren't they supposed to be taken to a secret base for treatment? Don't tell them this ranch was the "base." Aside from one villa, there wasn't a single building in sight.
"Follow me."
Zod led the way. The first modified Beast-Form Soldier—the Crocodile Man—had reverted to a human appearance, though the serum had already reshaped his previously frail body into a heavily muscled brute. Zod took them into the villa and opened the door leading down into the underground facility.
He had expanded the basement himself by vaporizing the soil with his heat vision. The space was enormous now, filled with advanced, precision instruments, giving the whole place a distinctly sci-fi feel.
It was enough to awe a group of men who only knew how to kill.
"Soldier. Show them your strength."
Zod nodded at the Crocodile Man standing to the side.
"Yes, boss!"
Muscles swelled beneath his skin, and in less than two seconds—faster than Newton or Einstein would ever accept—he transformed into a two-meter-tall crocodilian humanoid.
Everyone recoiled in shock.
"I can not only restore your bodies," Zod said, "I can give you strength as well."
He gestured. The Crocodile Man stepped toward a barbell prepared for demonstration. It weighed five hundred kilograms—an impossible number for a normal human, at least right now.
The Crocodile Man grabbed it with one hand. The weight at both ends was so crushing that the solid metal bar bent in the middle. The veterans stood there, stunned.
He set the barbell down, and the impact rattled the ground.
All fear they'd felt toward his monstrous appearance melted away. Not a single soldier alive didn't crave power.
"This is the Super Beast-Form Serum. It's what you'll receive. But think carefully. I've added a genetic toxin I developed myself. Without periodic doses of the antidote, your genes will collapse and you'll die—without even leaving a body behind. If you regret this, I can wipe your memories clean. You'll forget everything you've seen."
Zod spoke calmly. Naturally, the so-called "genetic toxin" was fake—a scare tactic for soldiers who didn't know any better. Still, he was developing a mind-control device. Eventually, he planned to brainwash them all properly.
None of them backed out. They were done with the pain and humiliation of broken bodies. People only ever looked at them with pity or disdain.
"Boss, I've got a question."
A Black veteran raised his left arm—only a wrist remained. His right arm was gone from the shoulder down.
"Speak."
Zod allowed it.
"I don't want to look like a crocodile. I like lions. They're the kings of the beasts."
"I want an insect. Insects are insanely strong!"
That immediately sparked interest among the others. True—if everyone had to become crocodiles, things would get boring fast.
"From both a scientific and personal perspective," Zod said, "reptiles and arthropods are far superior to mammals. Their regenerative abilities alone leave mammals in the dust. But if you insist on lions and tigers, that's fine too."
He shrugged.
"Boss, what's our organization called?"The same veteran asked again. He had clearly accepted his place in this mysterious group. With serum this powerful, the organization's future was limitless.
"World Serpent."
Zod's gaze held a deeper meaning.
"I like that name."
Ninety disabled veterans fought for new life on the operating tables. According to Zod's research, the Super Beast-Form Serum would influence their emotions and thinking—a heightened "beast instinct."
One glance, and they looked like a tribe of horned, furred demons.
Every pair of feral, animalistic eyes turned toward Zod.
He clasped his hands behind his back. The Crocodile Man stepped forward protectively.
"No need. I want to loosen up."
Zod waved him aside.
At his suggestion, most of the Beast-Form Soldiers hadn't chosen mammal genes. The majority were crocodiles or lizards. A small number had chosen rhinos or arthropods.
A thick-skinned rhino-man charged at Zod. With his sheer mass and hide far sturdier than an actual rhino's, he could flip a tank with ease. But Zod simply lifted a hand, clamped down on the creature's massive horn, and with a slight exertion, hoisted him into the air and hurled him into the rest of the Beast-Form Soldiers.
The rhino-man's weight and speed turned him into a living cannonball, bowling over three or four of them instantly. Zod leapt into their midst afterward, fists and kicks flying. Every Beast-Form Soldier he struck collapsed with severe injuries. Within moments, only Zod remained standing.
As for their "beast instincts," he had beaten those out of them entirely.
"Everyone awake now?"
Zod stretched lightly as he asked.
/-\
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