Nathan stood before the whiteboard, deep in concentration. His marker scratched furiously as complex equations streamed from his mind.
"DNA molecular weight equals total nucleotide weight minus the dehydrated DNA weight," he murmured, writing, "So, (6n)d - 18(-2)… and next, the total dehydrated value…"
His hand moved at incredible speed.
"mRNA molecular weight equals (3n)d - 18(-1)... I've calculated the base mass... now to continue…"
Inside his jacket pocket, Little Spider-Man peeked out, watching the whiteboard with round eyes. After just a few seconds, the poor creature looked dizzy. The equations were incomprehensible—a whirlwind of alien math. With a soft chirp, it slumped back into the pocket.
Meanwhile, Nathan's sudden presence and whiteboard takeover began drawing attention.
Some researchers paused their work, narrowing their eyes.
"Is that Daniel Grant?" someone asked. "Our CEO?"
"Yeah… the guy with the hat, big sunglasses, and scruffy stubble—it's him!"
"But what is he doing in here?"
"Wait, is he solving... the equation?"
They looked again—and shock spread.
"He's working on our problem—the self-healing serum model!"
Murmurs spread across the lab like wildfire. Dozens of top-tier scientists—biochemists, geneticists, molecular engineers—all watched in disbelief.
"No way. He's a businessman. Why would he be able to solve a problem we couldn't crack in weeks?"
"Maybe he's just playing around, like in Good Will Hunting—you know, janitor-genius story."
But that cynicism melted away as they began to actually study Nathan's logic.
One bald scientist blinked, frozen. "That... that approach to calculating nucleotide dehydration… we didn't think of that."
A researcher with hollow cheeks suddenly gasped. "That lets us reconstruct the mRNA chain backward! He's solving the impossible!"
A female scientist's eyes widened. "The peptide bonds equation—he derived it perfectly! And—yes! mRNA base pairs divided by three, then gene base pairs by six! He's doing it!"
What began as doubt turned into stunned admiration.
The lab fell silent.
All eyes now watched Nathan, whose pen danced with precision, whose mind had clearly unraveled the biological mystery that had confounded them all.
Kurt, the lab's head researcher, stared without blinking. Then—suddenly—he understood.
The method was right.
The final values were in reach. The missing pieces of the super self-healing serum formula had just been solved.
And with that, a lifetime of hope surged through him.
His missing arm… could be restored.
His years of research… finally complete.
Kurt's mind blanked out in joy and disbelief.
And still, Nathan wrote.
Line after line. Equation after equation. Correction, cross-check, confirmation.
Then—he underlined two final values.
It was done.
He stepped back, eyes calmly scanning the board.
"Solved."
A ripple passed through the crowd.
Then—
"OH MY GOD!"
"BOSS! You did it!"
"Daniel Grant, you're a genius!"
"I thought you were just the money guy!"
"I've been studying this for six months and didn't get close!"
"You just cracked the impossible!"
Nathan smirked slightly, soaking in the stunned awe. "Well," he said with a wink, "I am amazing."
The researchers blinked.
Then laughed.
That kind of confidence was hard to argue with.
The room exploded into cheers, claps, and rapid-fire questions.
"How did you think of reversing the dehydration value?"
"Did you apply synthetic logic from protein folding analysis?!"
"Wait, where did you study biology?!"
Nathan answered them all. Calmly. Clearly. Expertly.
Each answer only widened their eyes. Each explanation lit new sparks of inspiration.
Then, he pulled Kurt aside, leaving the chatter behind.
In a quieter meeting room nearby, Nathan spoke with precision.
"The last two numbers are out. That's all we needed. The formula's ready."
Kurt nodded quickly, almost breathless.
"Yes, sir. With this, we can begin production. The lab is prepped. Equipment is ready."
"Good," Nathan said. "We keep it in-house. Small batches. One for me. One for you."
Kurt's voice trembled. "Thank you."
He looked down at his missing arm, lips trembling.
"It's been years…"
Nathan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Now it ends."
Kurt swallowed hard and nodded. "I'll write up the formula and begin synthesis immediately."
Nathan nodded. "And the training equipment?"
"Already installed," Kurt replied. "Built according to your specs. I personally oversaw it. We signed confidentiality agreements. The design's safe."
"Show me."
As they walked through the corridors, Kurt explained:
"Because the machines are large and need major power, I converted an entire lab into your private training chamber."
"All unnecessary tools were removed. Only you have access. The room is locked under biometric security."
Nathan nodded. "Well done."
They reached the sealed entrance.
The system scanned Nathan's face and palm.
The door slid open.
Inside was a gym unlike anything on Earth.
Titanic machines forged from reinforced alloy filled the space. Each was custom-built to push Nathan's body to its absolute limits.
Little Spider-Man peeked from his pocket again, completely stunned. To him, the machines looked like mountains made of steel and thunder.
Nathan walked in slowly, eyes gleaming with excitement.
This was where it would all begin.
Where his strength would double. Where his body would transform. Where bioelectricity would awaken.
He stepped up to a barbell bench. The frame was mounted with magnetic resistance systems capable of reaching 30 tons of pressure.
He adjusted the settings to 15 tons.
The bar, forged from vibranium-alloy composite, was heavier than most tanks.
He lay flat on the bench.
His hands gripped the bar.
Veins bulged. Breath slowed.
BOOM!
Nathan pushed the bar upward, trembling with force, but unyielding.
He breathed out slowly.
One rep. Clean. Controlled.
"It begins now," he whispered. "The road to unlocking my electric potential."
Behind him, Little Spider-Man clapped its tiny limbs together in joy.
Nathan looked toward the rest of the machines.
Endless possibilities.
And just ahead—a new level of power, self-healing, and transformation.
Information :
[ Daniel Grant (Nathan's public identity]
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