Sales of Zod's Vitamin ∞ were far from ideal at first. The price point was simply too high. Still, Zod didn't mind—if a product sold out on day one, that would've been strange.
But in the days that followed, the people who did buy Vitamin ∞ were stunned. Unlike the vitamins and supplements they'd taken for years without seeing any real change, Vitamin ∞ produced results within just a few days. Their minds felt sharper. Their bodies brimmed with energy. Even the exhaustion from pulling all-nighters seemed to vanish.
It wasn't because Zod had laced it with stimulants. He had added nutrient extracts drawn directly from the human body—real, potent things that did help people. As for the source of those nutrients… let's just say the number of drug runners on the U.S.–Mexico border had recently dropped.
The truth was ugly, but even if it were exposed, most people would probably keep taking it anyway. After all, it genuinely worked.
Zod had no other choice. His mind was filled with Kryptonian science; what benefited Kryptonians didn't apply to humans. So the only effective material he could use… had to come from them.
Within a month, Vitamin ∞ completely sold out in New York. His initial investment not only returned in full—Zod cleared over a hundred million in revenue. Everyone who'd taken the supplement became a walking advertisement.
Flush with cash, Zod bought out every farm around the town of Heathwood—including the one where his ranch was located.
By merging them, he created a sprawling estate of over 3,000 acres. Then he immediately began reconstruction, tearing down the old fences and replacing them with two-meter-high concrete walls.
The old wooden fences had only existed to mark boundaries and keep out the mountain lions that roamed the region.
Now, with thick concrete walls, wildlife was no longer a concern. Those 3,000 acres were Zod's private base—far safer than disaster-prone New York, and secluded enough to keep his secrets hidden.
"Help! Don't come near me!"
A member of the Mexican Scorpion Cartel trembled in terror, staring at Zod.
"What are you yelling for? It's just a human experiment."
Zod calmly injected a vial of unknown liquid into the man. The cartel member struggled for a few seconds… then dropped dead.
"That's strange. I've already fully decoded human genetics—why is this still failing?"
Zod frowned. Once he had money, he'd purchased mountains of equipment and materials to build his own research facility. Some high-end devices couldn't be bought legally at any price—so he simply stole them. It wasn't as if anyone could track him down.
In the Marvel world, what mattered most?
Power.
Zod already had that. With time, he would grow strong enough to punch apart the multiverse. His next priority was subordinates.
The super-soldier serum was an obvious reference point—but as a Kryptonian researcher, Zod was too proud to copy someone else's work. He wanted to create his own version. Reality, however, proved uncooperative. Even after he diluted the effects again and again, the test subjects couldn't withstand the transformation. They simply died.
There was nothing wrong on paper, yet something seemed to block success—as if an invisible rule forbade it.
"Is the world refusing to let me create a super-soldier serum? Or… is it really like the comics, where only Steve Rogers was special? That he became a super-soldier not because of the serum, but because the serum chose him?"
After some thought, Zod decided to change direction.
He captured more fresh test subjects for the new experiment. Once he finished creating a different type of serum, one was dragged into the lab.
"If this doesn't work either, I'll have to go with power armor."
Zod jabbed the needle in without ceremony. The man convulsed—that happened every time. Zod watched patiently.
"Ten seconds… looks like it worked?"
His x-ray vision revealed the subject's body undergoing drastic change—violent and painful. Without anesthetics or sedatives prepared, most people would've died from shock. But this one held on.
"Y-you… what did you do to me?"
The man collapsed to the floor, staring at his hands—no longer human hands, but clawed, scaled monstrosities. Touching his own body, he felt the cold, hard shell covering him.
"I injected you with crocodile DNA. Amazing—changing direction worked on the first try."
Before Zod stood a towering figure with a massive build. His skin had turned dark green, thick and armored like a crocodile's hide. Razor-edged fangs jutted from his jaws. He looked every bit the monster—a real-life Crocodile Man.
"Die!"
The subject hadn't volunteered to become a monster. Enraged, he swung a massive claw at Zod.
Zod caught it with one hand. With his fully awakened bio-field, even missiles meant nothing to him—let alone a crocodile hybrid.
"Your strength is decent. Let's test your durability."
Crocodile Man's heart lurched at Zod's tone. Before he could react, his chest exploded as if hit by artillery, sending him crashing into a wall.
In terms of raw power, he could easily crush a car with a single slap. His defense was impressive as well—Zod had to apply a bit of strength to break through it.
Barely clinging to life, the creature twitched on the ground. Zod considered finishing him… then decided against it.
"From now on, you're one of my Beast Soldiers. The crocodile serum contains a gene-based virus. If you don't receive your periodic antidote, you die. Understand?"
Zod grabbed the creature by the shell-covered torso and spoke coldly.
"I… understand…"
The crocodile hybrid nodded frantically. Zod didn't bother with him further. With one successful serum, he could now begin assembling his first Beast Soldier unit.
At the New York Veterans Hospital, most patients were soldiers who had lost limbs in war. They had sacrificed everything—many suffered severe PTSD, plagued by nightmares, volatile tempers, and emotional instability.
Their trauma strained relationships with their families. Many couldn't care for themselves due to physical disability, leaving the veterans hospital as their only long-term refuge.
But these soldiers were wealthy—military insurance and benefits covered their expensive care.
And it was these veterans Zod now had his eye on. Their combat ability far surpassed random gang members. They had discipline, training, and instinct.
Perfect candidates.
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