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[Frog] Chapter 110: The Perfect Norman Osborn
🕑 Added 2024-10-20 08:01:48 +0000 UTCAt Osborn Industries, in the employee dormitory, Jack looked at his subordinates and said calmly, "It seems we can no longer count on Norman Osborn."
"Now that the test subject has been captured by the police, it's only a matter of time before Norman is caught too."
One of the subordinates asked, "So, boss, what should we do now?"
After a moment of thought, Jack replied, "We'll leave tonight."
"With Kingpin's situation quieting down, it's still dangerous out there, but it's safer than staying at Osborn Industries."
Jack knew all too well that, to some extent, he was an accomplice in Norman’s experiment with the modified human. If they didn’t leave soon, once the police tracked down Norman, it wouldn’t take long for them to find him too.
Thinking about this, Jack couldn’t help but curse his own bad luck. Just when he managed to escape Kingpin’s mess, he fell into trouble with Norman. Now, all he wanted was to run and hide in some corner of New York City until the storm blew over before resurfacing.
His subordinates agreed, nodding in unison. They’d long grown tired of Osborn Industries, where everyone seemed to look down on them.
"Alright, we’ll leave tonight!" Jack decided. "But before we go, we need to collect the pay we’re owed for all this time."
Jack smiled as he glanced toward the direction of Norman’s lab.
---
Outside Norman's Laboratory
Peter was still standing outside, staring at Norman’s lab. Since earlier, Norman hadn’t come out, and the sounds from inside had completely died down.
"Dr. Osborn?" Peter knocked on the door, worried. After waiting for a while with no response, Peter gathered his resolve and was about to push the door open.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and Norman stood there with a broad smile on his face. He gave Peter a puzzled look. "Peter, why haven’t you left yet?"
Peter found Norman’s overly normal demeanor unsettling and said, "I was a bit worried about you."
Norman shook his head, "No need to worry about me. I’ve thought it through—if one causes a problem, one must take responsibility."
"This whole mess is my doing, and I’ll bear the consequences."
Peter felt relieved and nodded. "Dr. Osborn, I’m glad to hear you say that."
"Of course, Peter," Norman replied. "I was wrong before."
Looking into Norman’s seemingly sincere eyes, Peter still sensed something wasn’t quite right, but he chose to trust him.
"Dr. Osborn, is there anything else I can do to help?"
"No, my boy. If possible, I’d like some time alone."
Norman glanced at his lab and then back at Peter.
Peter understood how much this ordeal had affected Norman. Even though he wasn’t entirely at ease, he nodded. "Alright, Dr. Osborn. I’ll stay here at Osborn Industries. If you need anything, just call me."
Norman nodded and spread his arms, pulling Peter into a hug. "Thank you, Peter."
Peter hugged him back, unaware that, as Norman’s face turned away from him, a twisted, sinister smile appeared.
When the hug ended, Norman returned to his usual demeanor, patting Peter on the shoulder.
"Go now, Peter. Let me be alone for a while."
After seeing Peter off, Norman returned alone to his lab.
As the door closed behind him, Norman's previously calm face began to contort with a sinister grin. Then, he burst into laughter. “Hahaha… That idiot, he really believed me.”
“All that talk about taking responsibility—nonsense! This is all the fault of those military fools!”
Norman laughed loudly as he walked toward the experiment table. Where there had once been two vials of the enhancement serum, now only one and a half remained.
"Peter, thanks to your formula for dilution, I was able to mix half of the enhancement serum with the anti-gene serum."
"And who would’ve thought? It actually worked!"
Norman glanced at the concrete wall beside him, where several claw marks were visible. Looking down at his own hands, he noticed a faint trace of dust in his fingernails.
“The new me is truly perfect.”
Boom!
With a single punch, Norman struck the experiment table, leaving a deep fist-shaped dent in it.
“As long as you lose the evidence, you'll never find me…”
Norman slowly walked toward another door in the lab, expertly inputting the code into the lock on the right. With a beep, the door slowly opened. Behind it, however, was not a room but a wall—one that contained three glass chambers.
In the middle chamber stood a green humanoid exoskeleton.
To the left was a bat-like flying device.
To the right sat a green mask resembling a clown’s face, and beneath that mask were several small, pumpkin-like bombs.
Looking at the three items before him, Norman smiled with satisfaction. “You are all my masterpieces.”
“But those fools don't understand. I’ll use you to create fear like they've never experienced before.”
“I’ll show them that my technology rivals even Stark Industries.”
“Osborn Industries’ inventions are superior to Stark’s!”
“And the first stop on this terror train… is the NYPD.”
As he finished speaking, Norman's mouth twisted into an exaggerated, maniacal grin, filled with malicious intent.
---
Inside the NYPD
“They… there was someone wearing a doctor’s coat… they injected me with something.”
A homeless man was strapped to a chair, his eyes vacant as if he were asleep. But despite his lifeless expression, he answered each of Anna’s questions with eerie precision.
Anna held a pen, her drawing pad in front of her.
“Sir, please describe the appearance of the person who injected you.”
The homeless man remained silent for a moment, as if trying to recall the details. Then, he slowly began to speak.
As he described the person, Anna’s hand moved across the paper, sketching a lifelike portrait based on his words.
George, standing behind her, watched as the facial features came into focus. Suddenly, a familiar face overlapped with the image in his mind.
When Anna finished her last stroke, George gasped, "Norman Osborn…"
Anna set down her pen, fully aware of who he was. She hadn’t just heard of him—she had even met him once at a gala attended by influential figures from various sectors.
Still, George asked uncertainly, "Could it really be him?"
Anna nodded confidently. "This image came from the man’s subconscious. There's a 90% chance it's accurate."
“And the other 10%?”
Anna replied softly, “Unless his memory has been tampered with, the remaining 10% doesn’t matter.”
George took a deep breath. "Alright, I’ll request a warrant immediately."
"Tomorrow, we’ll pay a visit to Osborn Industries…"
...
