The next second, Maguire looked down at Kingpin and said slowly,
"Norman Osborn of Oscorp is dead. Find a way to swallow Oscorp. That won't be a problem, will it?"
"Master," Kingpin answered, "Oscorp is a behemoth. Taking it in one bite isn't simple—we'll have to move step by step. Especially now that Stark Industries has announced it's stopping weapons development, Oscorp has become a real prize. Plenty of people will be eyeing it."
"If someone's eyeing it, that's not a problem," Maguire said coldly. "If a hand dares to reach out, don't just break it—make sure its owner doesn't see tomorrow's sun. This is your specialty, isn't it? If anything can't be handled, call me."
Kingpin bowed, reverence in his eyes.
Maguire glanced at his phone—it was Harry calling.
Right, his sworn bro. If they wanted Oscorp, wasn't this the best route?
He picked up.
"Peter, where are you?" Harry's voice was heavy. "Can you come to my place?"
"On my way," Maguire said.
"As for Oscorp, put it on hold until my word," he added to Kingpin.
Kingpin nodded at once.
Before long, Maguire's car pulled up at Harry's place. He rang.
The door opened on a haggard Harry. In barely over ten days, he'd grown thin, eyes bruised with sleeplessness.
"You're here, Peter. Come in."
They sat in the living room. Looking at Harry's drawn face, Maguire spoke gently. He understood: what hurt Harry most wasn't just his father's death, but the realization of what his father had done. The whole city knew; even S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't smother the news.
Harry fought it, but tears finally spilled. After a long silence, he forced himself to speak.
"Harry," Maguire asked, "do you want revenge?"
Harry shook his head. "Revenge? I never thought about it—not because that guy's power makes me despair. It's because the consequences of what my father did may be even worse. In truth… I should thank him, even if he's my father's killer."
(According to the original plot, once Harry learned what had really happened—and that Peter hadn't intentionally killed Norman—he forgave Peter.)
But right now, Harry's pain was guilt—guilt for the innocents his father's ambition had killed.
Maguire decided there was no need to hide. If Harry truly chose to turn on him… then so be it. He wouldn't mind adding one more body.
Solemnly, he said, "If I told you I was the one who killed your father—what would you do?"
Harry shot to his feet, stunned. "Peter, what are you talking about?"
Maguire stood as well. The Venom suit surged over him and sealed into place.
The black-suited spider stood before Harry.
Harry stared, dazed—his eyes a storm of feelings he couldn't name: rage, relief, helplessness, grief, shock. Then he sagged into the couch, as if all strength had been drained from him.
Inside, Venom muttered, delighted, "Savage. Kill the guy's dad and then tell him—this man is evil. I like him."
Normally, Maguire didn't bring Venom out. But he had expected things might go this far today, so he'd brought him along.
"If you want revenge," Maguire said, "I won't make you chase me. You can start now."
Harry shook his head. "I already said… I won't. Even if that man is my best friend. I know that if he hadn't killed my father, tens of thousands might have died at my father's hands. That would hurt me more."
"What are you going to do next?" Maguire asked.
"I don't know. My head's a mess. Please go, Peter."
Maguire nodded. "If you run into anything you can't handle, call me."
He had just reached the door when Harry's voice came from behind.
"Peter… are you still my best friend?"
Maguire paused. "If you want me to be, I always will be."
He opened the door and left.
Outside, Maguire felt a touch helpless. Villain he might be, but not a butcher without a bottom line, not a machine without feelings.
Elsewhere, several suits of armor—each over three meters tall—stood in a row.
Before them, a man in a black suit: Obadiah Stane.
He grinned broadly at the hulking frames.
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