A few days passed since Dr. Lizard was dealt with, and the police investigation yielded an official answer.
Most of the blame was put on the deceased Dr. Connors; after all, he was already dead, so bearing a little more responsibility wouldn't matter.
Meng Ran and his companions also returned to their daily lives. Meng Ran was very happy to have gained new abilities. Originally, he had planned to personally deal with Dr. Connors, as he had harmed so many people and caused many deaths, so there was no reason to let him off.
However, Meng Ran didn't expect Dr. Connors to be so understanding and choose to end things himself, which saved Meng Ran the trouble of helping him end things.
During this time, Blackwater Company also remained quiet. After Meng Ran eliminated the three Blackwater mercenaries and the Crocodile Gang, Blackwater never bothered him again. This surprised Meng Ran a bit; why were villains nowadays so intelligent and not blindly impulsive?
Meng Ran was still hoping for more mutant mercenaries to come, bringing him more skills, as even a small mosquito is still meat, and Meng Ran wouldn't mind more.
However, since they weren't making any moves, Meng Ran couldn't actively go looking for trouble with Blackwater.
He still knew too little about Blackwater and should be cautious. It wouldn't be too late to act after gathering more information, and it would also be more secure.
Just as Meng Ran and his companions were living their routine lives, a major event occurred again at Osborn Group.
Inside Osborn Group, in a secret laboratory, Norman Osborn was conducting research with several scientists.
Norman, wearing a white coat and a respirator, sat in a wheelchair. The brutal illness had ravaged his body, making him look like an old man in his fifties or sixties, despite being only in his early forties.
Norman's face was haggard, tinged with a hint of green, and a flicker of pain occasionally crossed his tired eyes. His weary body leaned against the wheelchair, exuding an aura of decay.
Several scientists were presenting their latest research findings to him.
Norman listened and pondered, then asked, "How is the green lizard serum coming along?"
The scientists exchanged glances at Norman's question. A lead scientist spoke, "We've made some progress and have an idea for removing the side effects of the reagent. However, there's still one problem: as the side effects decrease, the effectiveness of the reagent also diminishes."
"We are still looking for a solution to this problem."
"Ah! Damn it!" Norman growled in frustration upon hearing the scientist's words. He didn't have much time left; he had to cure this genetic disease before he died. He didn't want Harry to suffer like him, living a life worse than death.
Norman couldn't help but think of the deceased Dr. Connors. "Alas, if he hadn't died, it would have been better. With him, the progress wouldn't be so slow."
Norman was agitated, and his distress caused him to cough. After finally calming his cough, he waved his hand, signaling the scientists to continue their work, and then had the person behind him push his wheelchair to another desk.
Before he became like this, he often sat behind this desk, contemplating and conducting research. Many of Osborn Group's achievements came from his hands.
Norman sat at his desk and, after a long time, began to write, draw, and calculate. Since his body had deteriorated, he hadn't done this in a long time.
Now he had no choice; the experiment was stuck at a crucial step, and Dr. Connors, who was responsible for this step, had an accident. He was truly out of options.
He had to use his limited time to defuse this bomb for Harry. He had already spent his entire life on this, and he absolutely couldn't fall at this last step.
Norman endured his physical discomfort, sitting at the desk and organizing his thoughts. Hypotheses for methods constantly flashed through his mind, and he would write them down immediately, asking the scientists nearby to test if these hypotheses could be realized.
Time passed silently. He had been sitting there for a full twelve hours. This amount of time would be a huge burden for a normal person, let alone for him, a dying man; it was simply a deadly poison.
But Norman didn't dare to stop. He was afraid he would die before solving this problem. The person behind him had reminded him countless times to rest and take his medicine, but each time he refused.
Now, the person behind him reminded him again. This time, Norman didn't insist, because he felt somewhat depleted and needed to rest.
Just as the person behind him pulled his wheelchair back to take him to rest and take his medicine, Norman's withered hand suddenly gripped the desk.
Norman gasped, breathing heavily, and said firmly in a faint voice, "Wait a moment!"
The person behind him quickly pushed him back to his original spot.
Norman quickly grabbed his pen and paper and began to write and draw. After a while, he called over the researchers and spoke to them about something.
The researchers gathered around him, listening to his explanation, their eyes growing brighter. After listening, they took the paper and began to operate. Norman and they all felt that this might be their closest to success yet.
Norman had no intention of leaving at this point. This discovery made his heart surge with excitement; the moment to change the fate of the Osborn family might be approaching.
Norman watched the researchers' operations, waiting anxiously.
After a while, several researchers finally gathered around an instrument. Norman also asked the person behind him to push him over.
A group of people surrounded an instrument that was rapidly rotating and emitting a faint green light. A moment later, the instrument stopped, and the researchers took out five vials of serum from it.
"These are the finished products from the hypothesis just now. This is our closest step to success. Whether it's truly successful still depends on the final experiment," a lead researcher said to Norman.
Norman nodded, trying to calm his agitated emotions, and said in a deep voice, "Experiment as soon as possible. I'll wait for your results there."
With that, Norman signaled the person behind him to push him back to his previous desk. He reclined his chair back a bit and lay there with his eyes closed, resting and waiting for the experiment results.
Several more hours passed. The sleeping Norman was woken by the person beside him. It turned out the results were in, and the researchers stood at his desk, clutching the report.
Norman's face was not good; the prolonged exhaustion made him feel his body was overwhelmed.
But more than the physical exhaustion, what worried him more was the experiment's outcome. Seeing the researchers' troubled expressions, he suddenly had a bad premonition.
Norman said in a deep voice, "What are the results? Tell me."
The researcher looked at the report again, then said, "Sir, the experimental results are in, but they're somewhat different from what we expected. Although we've confirmed it has an effect, we cannot be certain if this effect is effective for your body."
"After all, you are the only one with this disease. Although observations of your blood indicate this reagent is useful, its function cannot be tested when considering the entire body and various organs. Therefore, the final effect cannot be determined."
"We may need more time to solve this problem."
Norman listened to the researcher's explanation and couldn't help but frown. After pondering for a while longer, he said, "No test subjects, so the final effect cannot be determined."
"Then just use it on me directly. Since it's effective for blood, it should be effective for this disease."
"I don't have time to wait."
The lead researcher was shocked by Norman's words and immediately tried to dissuade him from being impulsive, but Norman just shook his head at their words and repeated, "I don't have time."
He then forcefully ordered them to begin preparations. The researchers, seeing his insistence and considering his condition, could only nod.
After a while, the equipment was ready.
Norman was carried and placed on a cylindrical, inclined test bench, covered by a thick layer of glass.
After placing Norman inside, the researchers attached detectors to his chest and various parts of his body, then securely fastened him to the test bench.
Looking at the glass cover that was about to close, Norman said to the people outside, "If I die, keep this data, use this set of data for further experiments until the experiment is successful, and then cure Harry's illness."
The person who had been pushing Norman and the nearby researchers all nodded.
Seeing this, Norman closed his eyes, waiting for the experiment to begin. He had already prepared his will, and Harry would understand everything when the time came.
The glass cover closed. A researcher continuously pressed buttons on the instrument nearby. As he operated, small needles filled with green serum extended from the sides within the glass cover and pierced Norman's arms and legs.
As the reagent was injected into his body, Norman's vital signs began to change continuously, slowly and gradually exceeding everyone's expectations. The monitoring equipment also started to issue warnings, and Norman inside the glass cover began to scream in pain.
The lead researcher, seeing this, wanted to shut down the instrument and stop the experiment, but just as he was about to operate, Norman inside the glass cover stare opened his eyes wide, staring at him, and roared, "Don't stop, continue!"
After speaking, Norman continued to howl in pain.
The researcher, seeing this, had no choice but to continue. He pressed another button, and suddenly a green mist rose within the glass cover, enveloping Norman.
As the mist entered, Norman's screams gradually subsided. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh!"
Suddenly, a strange laugh came from within the glass cover, from Norman Osborn, who was shrouded in green smoke.