Monday night.
Logically speaking, Peter was either huddled in the laboratory doing research at this time, or patrolling the streets of New York. Although Matt·Murdock shared a lot of the patrol work, he never expected that he would actually appear in such a place.
This is the first time this place has been used for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s regular mission since he and Natasha discovered Queens, the S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house.
Peter is wearing a full set of Spider-Man battle clothes, with Jessica·Drew and a man named Albert· Rich's S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists stood side by side in front of the one-way glass. In the interrogation room on the other side of the glass, sat Curt·Connors, who had completely recovered his body.
"So what you're saying is that you can't remember anything about what happened in the past three days?"
The interrogator leaned back in his chair and sneered, "Dr. Connors, do you think I would believe this kind of deception to a child?"
The man in the interrogation chair had lost all his hair and had a haggard face. He looked like a terminal cancer patient who had just finished chemotherapy.
"I... I'm telling the truth." Connors sobbed in a low voice, his voice so weak that he could barely hear it, "I really can't remember what happened in the past three days..."
"You killed a man!" The interrogator suddenly leaned forward and asked in a low voice, "Tear him in half alive in the middle, and then tried to kill more people! Now you tell me, you have lost your memory?"
On the other side of the glass, Peter couldn't help but mutter in a low voice, "This bastard talks really aggressively."
The scientist Albert on the side explained for his colleague, "He was just following the rules."
"We have long proven that Lizard Man is the product of a split personality independent of his own body." Peter retorted, "But the way he looks at Connors now is like he is interrogating an executioner who deliberately murdered."
Jessica crossed his arms and glanced at Peter apologetically. "This is the interrogation process, Spider-Man, there is nothing anyone can do."
Peter snorted and did not argue anymore.
In the interrogation room, the interrogator tapped his fingers rhythmically on the wooden edge of the table. "Okay... let's talk about Roxxon."
Connors blinked his dry eyes. "What do you want to know?"
"How did they contact you?"
"E-mail..." Connors lowered his head, the shame on his face was so strong that it almost spilled out of the glass, "They sent me an email, which included all the research data I needed..."
That heavy and self-blaming emotion can be clearly felt by Peter and Jessica even through the one-way glass.
"How did they know what you were studying?" the interrogator continued to ask.
"I was stuck for a long time on the step of sewing the genetic marker to the recipient DNA... that is the core of the entire formula." Connors's voice became smaller and smaller. "I really had no choice, so I went to the dark web to post for help. I browsed various websites and forums... until I went home that night, and suddenly there was an anonymous email in my inbox."
The interrogator raised his eyebrows. "That's it? A multinational giant just happened to contact an unknown university professor and provide you with the answers to all your problems for free?"
"I... yes." Connors nodded with difficulty.
The next questioning became a routine process. It was nothing more than asking about the details of the formula, the scope of the insiders, and whether this thing could be mass-produced.
Peter secretly calculated in his heart that the secret work of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s group was as leaky as a sieve. God knows how many Hydra are lurking inside. If Connors really hands over the formula, it must not be genuine.
However... there is one thing that has been spinning in Peter's mind, and it feels wrong no matter how much I think about it.
"This doesn't make sense." Peter whispered to Jessica.
Jessica tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"I have been tracking Roxxon and these grandsons for several weeks." Peter explained, "I have searched all the old people in the city and haven't found even a single paper file. But now? What about them? To actually make such a stupid mistake? Use large fonts to write the name of your company in the signature of the email? They know full well that Connors is a bomb that can explode at any time. This group of extremely shrewd capitalists cannot be so stupid."
"What if they really made a mistake? We are not sages." Jessica shrugged.
"Maybe... I hope so." Peter saw the interrogator getting up and preparing to ask someone to take Connors away, his eyes narrowed, "I want to talk to him alone, okay?"
Jessica looked at scientist Albert, who spread his hands and said, "Okay, but the speed must be fast."
Peter walked down the stand and happened to bump into two agents escorting Connors towards the escort vehicle at the end of the corridor.
"Wait." Peter called out to them, "Give me a few minutes, I want to talk to him alone."
The agents looked at each other, recognized the superhero in front of them, nodded and retreated out of the corridor.
It wasn't until the footsteps faded away that Peter gave the order in his mind, "Sassy, block all audio surveillance in this corridor."
"Understood, boss." AI's voice sounded in the headset.
Connors raised his head, and the corners of his originally tight eyes relaxed slightly. "Mr. Spider-Man... my son likes you very much. He always pesters me and asks me if I can make him like Spider-Man." He laughed at himself, "It is not easy to explain to a nine-year-old that 'this is against science'."
Peter chuckled, "You can imagine it. Does that child look like you?"
"You want to ask him if he is smart?" Connors's eyes softened, "He doesn't have the talent for scientific research like me... but he is like his mother, who is very good at painting, and is considered a little genius in his own world."
"I see..." Peter paused, "Then... why did you study that formula in the first place?"
Connors's eyes dimmed. "Because... I want to heal all the imperfections in this world."
Peter looked at the empty sleeve on his right hand. "Can I ask how it was broken?"
Connors gently stroked the fracture of his right arm. "Billy was playing in my laboratory when he was five years old. A huge piece of equipment suddenly fell down... I rushed over and pushed him away. Although I saved his life, my arm... was crushed to pieces."
"Anyone who is a father would choose this way."
"Yes." Connors showed a bitter smile, "As long as it can exchange for his safety, I would be willing to have my other arm... But I always think that it would be great if there was a medicine in the world that could allow all people who have suffered this kind of pain to regrow their limbs. I want to be the person who changes the world... It doesn't matter what I become."
His voice gradually became choked. "But I never expected that it would turn out like that... By the way, the police officer who was killed by me... by that monster, does he have any children?"
Peter sighed in his heart, "Sassy?"
"According to the records, the officer has a child, boss."
Connors seemed to have collapsed and buried his head deeply. "I am a monster... I am really a complete monster..."
"Yes, you did something wrong." Peter looked at the tears flowing from the corners of his eyes, "But people can change."
"How? I deprived a father of his life! What will my son think of me in the future? He will remember his father as a man-eating monster for the rest of his life!"
Peter fell silent, thoughts running rapidly in his mind.
"Most people think that once a person falls into Hell and does bad things, he can never be cleansed of it." Peter spoke slowly, with a firm voice, "But that's wrong. People always have the opportunity to make a new choice. This process will be extremely difficult, and may even seem hopeless, but if you don't even dare to try and just give up... then you are really screwed."
"But... but I--"
"I forgive you." Peter interrupted him, "I forgive you for everything you have done, Curt. No one in this world is unworthy of redemption. Now that I have forgiven you, what you have to do next is to win back the forgiveness of others... and most importantly, learn to forgive yourself."
Connors's long-standing emotions finally collapsed. He covered his face and cried loudly, his voice intermittently full of heartbreaking despair. But Peter knew that this dying heart was recovering. A person who can still ask himself "Am I a bad person" can still be saved.