Now completely lost in his madness, Dr. Connors rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on the remaining vials of green serum inside the refrigeration unit.
Maguire's mocking dismissal and Norman Osborn's cold words echoed over and over in his mind.
In that fevered state, he made a decision—he would skip any human trials and inject himself with the same serum he had just used on the mouse.
---
Stumbling to the cabinet, Connors carefully retrieved a vial. He sat down slowly, then pressed the needle into his skin.
The green fluid slid into his veins.
Within a minute, tiny buds of flesh began sprouting from the stump of his long-lost arm.
A smile of pure joy spread across his face.
Moments later, a fully formed arm was stretching before his eyes.
He stared at it in awe, flexing the fingers—until a sharp, piercing sound made him freeze.
He turned toward the noise.
The mouse, the one that had been lively only moments before, was now convulsing violently inside its cage.
Its eyes shifted from red to an eerie, glowing green.
Then its small body began to swell, muscles bulging grotesquely.
The cramped cage could no longer contain it. Fur fell away, replaced by green, leathery skin.
Scales burst through the flesh, limbs stretching into reptilian form.
Within moments, the "mouse" had become a massive green lizard over two meters long.
Connors stood frozen, stunned by the transformation.
The creature let out a feral roar and lunged at him.
But before it reached him, Connors' own body began to spasm violently.
A green light flickered in his eyes.
His hands tore open as scales pushed through his skin.
Fingernails split, replaced by sharp claws.
His muscles swelled, ballooning with inhuman strength.
A thick, powerful tail unfurled from his back.
---
In seconds, Dr. Connors had become a towering humanoid lizard, standing nearly three meters tall.
With one massive sweep of his arm, he snatched the giant green reptile from the floor.
A single pitiful scream rang out before green blood splattered onto the tiles.
The Lizard's eyes narrowed with hatred.
"Norman Osborn… Maguire… I will not forgive you."
---
Meanwhile, Maguire and Gwen had arrived at an upscale apartment building.
Gwen turned to him.
"This is my home. My father's the police chief—he's strict, but he's a good man. You don't need to be afraid."
Maguire rolled his eyes internally.
*Afraid? I'm not a criminal.*
Still, he nodded.
Gwen rang the doorbell.
A moment later, the door opened to reveal a man in a suit—Gwen's father, NYPD Captain George Stacy.
As a police chief, George had always been strict in raising Gwen. And now that she was at an age for dating, he was even more vigilant.
So when he saw his daughter bring home a strange young man, his first thought was obvious.
His face darkened.
"This is Maguire," Gwen quickly explained. "My classmate."
Turning to Maguire, she added, "And this is my father, George Stacy."
George's voice was cool.
"And what business do you have in my home, Mr. Maguire?"
Maguire arched a brow at the icy tone, already half-ready to turn around and leave—he wasn't the type to swallow insults.
Before he could, Gwen jumped in.
"I brought him over to help him with his schoolwork."
George gave Maguire a careful once-over.
The boy's expression was one of clear impatience, as though he resented being here at all.
That alone made George pause.
*Where does this kid get the nerve to look down on my daughter?*
Between Gwen's attitude and Maguire's, George came to a strange conclusion—his daughter must be chasing *him*.
He decided to let the boy inside.
*Let's see what it is about this kid that has her so wrapped around his finger.*
---
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