Lynn slowly adjusted his glasses, completely ignoring Norman's bodyguards, who looked as if they were facing a deadly enemy and kept their hands pressed against the grips of their guns.
He took a step forward, leaned close to Norman's ear, and spoke softly enough for only the two of them to hear:
"Mr. Osborn, there seems to be a small problem with your serum."
Norman's pupils suddenly contracted!
This was his most vital, deepest secret!
Aside from himself and a few core researchers, there could not possibly have been a fifth person in the world who knew about it!
"Your muscle fibers are dissolving. Since three weeks ago, you've needed to inject more than five times the normal dosage of nutrients every day just to remain standing."
"Your cerebral cortex is exhibiting abnormal neural discharges. Especially at midnight, the auditory and visual hallucinations keep you from sleeping, don't they?"
With every sentence Lynn spoke, Norman's face turned a shade paler.
Those symptoms were even more precise than his private doctor's records!
"So," Lynn straightened up. His voice was not loud, yet it was like a cold scalpel that completely pierced the facade Norman had built with arrogance and violence.
"You didn't come here to acquire me, Mr. Osborn. You came here to beg me to save your life."
"And when you beg someone, you follow the rules of begging."
Having his sore spot and deepest fear completely exposed, Norman Osborn's sanity was instantly overtaken by madness.
His gaunt face twisted, and he let out a beastlike growl.
"You're courting death!"
He violently waved a hand behind him.
"Grab him! Restrain him! I'll show him who the real master of New York is!"
All six bodyguards drew their guns at the same time.
The black muzzles aimed at Lynn's head and