Soon, the preliminary scan results appeared.
Jarvis' gentle voice sounded again:
"Sir, compared to Mr. Henry's last scan in the lab, I can confirm his physical fitness has improved significantly in the past 24 hours."
He's gotten stronger in just one day? That fast?!
"Oh? Be specific—how much stronger?" Henry chimed in, now intrigued.
"According to the model, your base strength has increased by approximately 5 tons, now stable around 50 tons. Your maximum flight speed has improved from Mach 1 to Mach 1.2, and energy consumption during subsonic flight has dropped by 11%. Cellular energy absorption and conversion efficiency has improved by 7.3%, enhancing your defenses—you should now withstand even larger conventional explosions."
"Not bad." Henry nodded with satisfaction, stroking his chin.
"That rate of growth is a bit slow—like squeezing toothpaste. Still, a five-ton gain in a day beats three hours at the gym."
"Slow?" Tony stared like Henry was a monster, his voice sharply changing.
"You call that slow? Do you know how many all-nighters I pulled, how much data I processed, how many CPUs I burned just to boost my suit's lifting power by one ton? Yet you call a five-ton gain slow? That's taunting the laws of science!"
Tony rolled his eyes, feeling that if he listened any longer, he'd be forced to curse—even if Henry was his own brother.
"Okay, pretend I said nothing. Mortals like you can't comprehend genius's troubles." Henry shrugged.
"What about your biochemical status?" Tony cut him off, eager.
"Have you finished analyzing the serum? What the hell did those crazy Hydra bastards inject you with to make you this kryptonite-free superhuman?"
"I'd like to know too. I feel like I'm walking around as a living periodic table." Henry was just as curious.
He knew Marvel's habits—if given a chance, they'd whip up any mad science serum. But who dreams a government project would use a drug addict as a subject—then create a serum able to grant godlike strength with a shot.
What makes even less sense is that a drug addict could resist the so-called evil personality effects. That's pure nonsense—even comics would blush at the plot hole.
Still, that's Marvel's classic logic.
"Jarvis, display the serum analysis—now." Henry said.
On the holographic screen appeared layers of gene sequences and chemical models—enough to make a biology PhD break down.
"Analyzing Mr. Henry's blood, the situation is more complicated than expected," Jarvis admitted, remarkably almost sounding confused for an AI.
"His body contains at least four distinct super-serums, some with theoretical incompatibility."
"Four? Hydra sure keeps up with trends," Tony muttered, wide-eyed.
"Yes," Jarvis continued.
"The dominant component is a modified Super Soldier Serum, much more active and stable than Dr. Erskine's original. It constitutes roughly 50% of the mix, greatly enhancing physical functions and conferring learning and adaptability far above normal."
"An upgraded Cap serum, huh? No wonder I look this good," Henry grinned smugly, admiring his physique.
Steve: Dude, are you mocking me or what?
"Secondly, there's a serum that forcibly induces mutation and genetic evolution. It breaks biological limits, enabling unpredictable evolution. It acts as a controllable catalyst, but with inherent uncertainty."
Blue calculation lights sped up as Jarvis pressed on:
"Third is a highly unique bio-hormone serum that stimulates the host's full physical potential. Its effects depend strongly on emotional state: anger, excitement, adrenaline, and unknown hormones spike, temporarily granting massive surges in strength. Theoretically, the angrier the host, the stronger the effect."
"And finally—the most critical: a never-before-seen serum that enables cellular absorption and storage of light energy, especially certain solar wavelengths. This energy accelerates healing, division, and maintenance, acting as a perpetual energy supply. Combined with a strong will and excellent genetics, these serums form a miraculous, near-perfect symbiotic balance, letting Henry's body evolve in unpredictable, open-ended ways."
Silence fell over the lab.
Tony and Henry just stared at one another, both utterly bewildered. Angry for more power? Buy-one-get-one Hulk coupon?
Henry thought grimly: If I lose my temper or a game, will I turn into a flying green giant in black tights? That's a horror I can't even imagine. Maybe I need to lay off the caffeine.
"Pfft—Hahahaha!" Tony suddenly burst out laughing, nearly falling over.
"Henry! You've got everything: Cap serum, mutant gene, super-hormones, and some Kryptonian stuff! It's a superhero buffet! Was Hydra treating you as a wishing well and tossing in all the good stuff?"
"Shut up." Henry rolled his eyes, irritated.
"You think I wanted this? You think I ordered a superhero combo meal for takeout?"
He hesitated, then smirked:
"Jarvis, can this serum be replicated? If yes, serve up some for my dear brother—let's see how he likes tearing down walls in the sun and rage-growing muscles."
Tony's eyes instantly lit up, the laughter vanishing to give way to ambition.
"Oh, I like it!"
He snapped his fingers, energized.
"Jarvis, create a project team. Codename: Superman Mass Production—no, make that Prometheus Project! We'll crack the formula and usher in a new evolutionary age!"
"I'm afraid not, sir." Jarvis returned to his usual calm, bursting the bubble.
"The serums are too complex and deeply fused with Mr. Henry's unique genetics. With our current equipment, replication is impossible: failure risk exceeds 99.9%, with a high chance of irreversible mutations."
Tony's enthusiasm wilted, but Jarvis continued:
"However, the modified Super Soldier Serum's structure is relatively stable. There is an 87% probability I can extract, isolate, and even enhance it—potentially producing a purer, safer version with no harmful side effects."