Stepping out of the car, Jacob buttoned up his suit blazer and paused to take a look around. A convoy of cars had pulled up along the driveway, men dressed in similar suits with masks covering their faces stepping out.
His house was much larger now, looking similar to a large apartment complex, though much cleaner and better designed than the usual apartment buildings in Gotham. It was originally the business building that had belonged to one of the previous lieutenants, but Jacob had turned it into his new home. He had no need for such a large office building when most of the floors and rooms weren't being used.
The previous lieutenant had not been the smartest when it came to using his money, often believing that when one had wealth, it needed to be spent. He wanted to make an impression, make it clear that he made money and did so by buying useless and unnecessary things.
'His territories were run well though, I'll give him that.' His extravagant lifestyle had been supported by his carefully managed and efficient business ventures. However, since taking over, Jacob had managed to nearly triple the amount of money coming in by not spending an exuberant amount of money on highly expensive buildings that rarely got used.
The large mansion placed in the upper-class areas of Gotham had been sold.
Jacob investing a great deal of money into this office building on things like security, refurbishment and outfitting it with a state of the art lab/workshop. In the beginning, Jacob had actually been losing money due to the expenditure of some of the things he needed, mostly in his laboratory. However, since that had been completed, Jacob could safely say that money wasn't much of an issue.
Certainly, he was nowhere near the richest in Gotham, but out of all of Black Mask's lieutenants, he was the richest. It was a stark difference from how things had been before, where money had been tight and required him to carefully consider every option based on the budget he had available.
It was a habit he still had to this day, but the extra money made his life much easier.
"Bring them to the fifth floor," Jacob ordered to a few of the False Face Society members, indicating to the drug addicts being dragged out of one of the vehicles. They had incurred a large debt and had been unable to pay up and from his own background check into their situations, never would be.
Most would allow them to continue trying their best to pay them back, it was extra money. However, Jacob had a better use for them, something which would be far more valuable to him than money.
After all, he never entered the False Face Society for the money, that was simply one of the bonuses that came along with it. No, this, much like many things to come was just a simple stepping stone upon his journey and so, while he might lose some avenues of easy money, it was a minuscule price to pay.
-X- Line Break -X-
Slowly piercing the needle into the young man's arm, directly into the vein, Jacob slowly pressed down, easing the green liquid within the syringe into his bloodstream. Then pulling away, taking the syringe with him, Jacob watched as the man thrashed around in the chair, the straps groaning under the force being exerted.
Stepping back out of the glass cage, Jacob closed the door and watched calmly, studying the reaction to the drug. Muscles bulged, growing in mass and size, veins bulged outwards to the point they looked to be on the verge of bursting.
The man in question groaned in pain, the straps holding him in place, snapping off. 'So, not even that material could hold him in place.' Jacob thought, logging that little tidbit in his mind for future reference. He had tried a number of experiments on numerous people with this drug, each reacting relatively similar, though their own muscle mass played a role in the outcome.
Finding a strap that could hold them in place was difficult, that strap was designed to withstand enough force necessary to move two tons and yet, they had been broken quite easily. Testing how much strength the subjects could exert was difficult, with the drug in their system, it made them unruly and uncontrollable, unwilling to follow instructions. So, he was forced to improvise by increasing the materials and designs of the straps that held them in place as a way to measure the strength output.
'So, a dosage of that value is beyond two tons?' Jacob thought, looking upon one of the fitter subjects that had been brought in. He had been an ex-fighter, so his body was in good shape, unluckily for him, he had incurred a great deal of debt that needed to be paid off.
Though he probably didn't expect it to be in this way.
This explained why he leapt towards the glass cage, fist drawn back as he smashed into the surface. Only for him to not even leave a crack as he fell back, at that point though, he didn't move.
"Subject has died. Current strength limit, unknown." Jacob recounted into his recording device. "Estimated strength level, three tons." He then entered the cage, checking over the dead body. "However, the level of dosage proved fatal. Bones became brittle, the durability provided by Venom when reaching a certain point provides strength but not the durability necessary to utilise said strength."
Venom.
A dangerous drug, but one that went under the radar of the government and the Justice League. Mostly because the strength gains from the drug were not that massive. It had been purposefully designed that way, Jacob knew that from his numerous studies of the drug.
For the drug's purpose, the product was perfect.
It provided enhanced strength, speed, stamina, reflexes and durability to all those that took the drug. However, not to a level that would require the Justice League to intervene when compared to other problems and no doubt, Venom was provided with some measure of government backing as well.
On top of that though, it was highly addictive.
The drug not only lowered the user's inhibitions on a much higher scale than what alcohol did, but it was also highly addictive, mixing substances like nicotine, cocaine and heroin into the compound. It made people want to come back for more, always ensuring that there was a demand for the drug.
However, to Jacob, this was unacceptable.
Venom was a way for him to rid himself of his weak body.
But the addictiveness of the drug was a major problem. There was a reason why there was the saying, don't get hooked on your own supply. Jacob did not want to turn into a drug addict, which was why he was testing Venom and the altered versions he made on the various people that owed him a debt.
So far he had come up with two variants, one he simply nicknamed Tank because of the much higher durability and strength levels reported from those who took this version of Venom. And another named Speed, which from its name, meant higher levels of speed and reflexes.
However, whoever had made Venom had made it so that the addictive substances mixed into the structure of the serum, were vital in creating the effects. Jacob could admire the lengths that whoever made it went through to make this happen. But it was annoying for sure, he now had to find a way to replace those addictive substances with something else that would create the same effects. Or he had to add something that would eliminate the addictive edge of the drug, without affecting the outcome of the serum as a whole.
A challenge, but one Jacob was happy to take on for himself.
It took him sixteen years to finally move out of the brothel and begin moving on up the world.
It took him less than four months to become a lieutenant in the False Face Society.
A few more months working on Venom was something Jacob was more than happy to do if it removed one of his biggest weaknesses. 'When I do though,' Jacob thought to himself, looking towards a table in the corner of the laboratory, upon which a strange metal contraption had been built. 'That's when I will make some serious changes in Gotham.'