DC Heroes in Marvel

The incident ended, and Anton returned to New York.

He dispersed the two avatars and opened his real eyes.

Who would have thought that a simple visit to check the situation with Secretary of Defense John Keller would turn into such chaos? The scene grew noisier by the second.

The day's experience felt more exhausting than the entire past week. However, the rewards were immense, and there were no losses to speak of.

Turning over and getting out of bed, Anton walked to the living room, where he saw the old man reading.

"Awake?"

Jonah Jameson glanced at Anton and asked, "How's the situation on Batman's side?"

"Something went wrong," Anton replied, spreading his hands with a helpless expression.

"A small situation?" Jameson raised an eyebrow, instantly suspicious. He knew that Anton's definition of "small" often meant the opposite.

"Don't worry, it's all resolved!" Anton reassured him with a smile and sat across from Jameson.

Seeing the old man's tense expression relax, Anton suddenly said, "You've been resting for over a year now. You must be feeling pretty free, right?"

Jameson squinted at him. "Boy, what are you trying to say? I can tell you're up to something."

"Are you ready to make a comeback?" Anton asked, leaning forward slightly.

"A comeback?" Jameson scoffed, shaking his head. "You're running the Daily Bugle just fine. Why would I give up my leisurely life? Honestly, it feels great to spend money like a prodigal—just like you used to do."

"But isn't that life a little too empty? Even Tony Stark became Iron Man. And you're Jonah Jameson," Anton said, shifting the tone to flatter the old man.

Sure enough, Jameson grinned, his ego thoroughly stroked. "Alright, spit it out. What are you planning?"

"Under your leadership, the Jameson family has already reached a high status," Anton began, leaning back. "But we still have some shortcomings."

Jameson raised an eyebrow. "Shortcomings? You're talking about a family that controls public opinion through the Daily Bugle. What more do you want?"

"On one hand," Anton continued, "the Daily Bugle gives us a public relations advantage that others don't have. But on the other hand, we're still just a newspaper. Even though we've invested in various industries, it's all passive—pure investment, pure wealth. We don't control the situation."

Jameson narrowed his eyes. "It's not enough to have money. What else do you want?"

"I want to build a major company, something like Stark Industries or Oscorp, a company that can truly control the playing field," Anton said with a smile. "Old man, isn't this your dream too?"

"My dream?" Jameson repeated, leaning back in his chair. He studied Anton for a moment, then sat up straighter. "Do you realize what it takes to become another Stark Industries or Oscorp? Connections are important, sure, but that's secondary."

He paused and then added firmly, "What made those companies successful is that they were unique."

"Unique…" Anton muttered under his breath, fully understanding what Jameson was hinting at.

In other words, they needed core technology.

Howard Stark and Norman Osborn were scientists in their own right. They built the foundations of their empires with their genius, creating innovations that became the core of their businesses. 

Over time, Stark Industries and Oscorp grew into towering giants.

By contrast, Anton thought of someone like Justin Hammer. He served as a reminder that not everyone could reach those heights, no matter how much money they threw around.

Both parties are major arms dealers, but Justin Hammer's reputation and status are nowhere near comparable to Stark Industries or Oscorp. Why?

Isn't it obvious? A lack of core technology.

Hammer relies heavily on plagiarizing Stark Industries' designs, offering slightly lower prices to attract local military and overseas orders. But even with this model, it's clear: Hammer will never be widely recognized.

Why?

Innovation is lacking.

The products are unremarkable.

Hammer's company is left picking up scraps—the contracts Stark and Oscorp don't even bother with.

And why is Justin Hammer so desperate to get into Oscorp? It's obvious: he's eager for Oscorp's advanced patents and expertise in biological sciences and genetic technology.

When it comes to arms dealing alone, Hammer and Oscorp might be on similar footing—both are overshadowed by Stark Industries. But Oscorp's strength lies in its diversity. It's far more than just an arms dealer.

"Of course, I have something unique," Anton said with a sly smile, looking at Jameson. "Old man, it's been so long—have a little faith in me."

As he spoke, Anton stepped forward and placed his hand on Jameson's shoulder.

Whoosh!

The two vanished from the house in an instant.

Jameson blinked, suddenly finding himself in a strange place. He glanced around at the surroundings and frowned.

"A sewer?" he muttered, surprised. "I didn't know a sewer could be this clean."

Before he could ask more questions, a voice called out.

"Anton?"

Jameson turned toward the sound, and a group of tall, humanoid turtles entered his field of vision.

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!

Although Jameson had been relaxing in Hawaii for the past year, he wasn't entirely out of the loop when it came to New York's news. And, of course, The Daily Bugle had covered these turtles in the past.

Notably, the Bugle's recent content under Eddie Brock's leadership had earned widespread praise across New York and the United States. Jameson felt validated in choosing Eddie to run things, just as he did in handing the Daily Bugle to Anton.

"Who's this old guy?" Michelangelo asked, eyeing Jameson curiously. Turning to Anton, he added, "You usually don't bring strangers down here. Is he some sort of wanted criminal?"

Before Anton could respond, Michelangelo leaned in and sniffed. "He's wearing women's cologne! Oh, this guy smells good."

The corners of Jameson's mouth twitched in embarrassment.

Anton burst out laughing. "He's my grandpa, Jonah Jameson. The man behind Batman and the real boss of the Daily Bugle. I brought him here to show him your recent progress."

"Progress?" Donatello perked up and stepped forward. "Follow me, Mr. Jameson. You're about to witness the greatest invention of the century!"

The greatest of the century?

Jameson raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. He couldn't imagine anything that could honestly deserve such a bold title. Then again, this was Donatello—a genius inventor with a flair for dramatic descriptions.

Jameson didn't take the claim too seriously, but he couldn't deny his interest. What could Anton possibly be so confident about?

As they entered the sewer laboratory, Jameson expected to see experimental equipment. But what caught his eye first wasn't the machinery—it was the man in the white lab coat standing at the center of the room.

He had an elegant, easygoing demeanor, yet Jameson instantly recognized him.

"Kurt Connors… Doctor Lizard?" Jameson blurted, stunned.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Wasn't Connors one of Batman's mortal enemies?

The Daily Bugle had written extensively about their clashes! Could this all have been a lie?

Jameson shot Anton a bewildered look, his expression demanding an explanation.

Anton simply smiled, clearly enjoying his grandfather's shock. "You haven't seen anything yet," he said cryptically.

That's when Jameson noticed something even stranger—Kurt Connors had two perfectly functional hands.

Wait. That's impossible.

Everyone in New York knew Connors' story. He became the Lizard after attempting to cure his disability. How could his arms be healed now?

Jameson had a sudden realization. Thinking about the news Osborne had previously announced to the public and now seeing Connors' fully restored arm, it all clicked.

"Limb regeneration technology!" Jameson exclaimed, visibly shaken. "I didn't expect this technology to be achieved by you!"

…

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