Dr. Connors

Dr. Connors was a visiting professor at the State University of New York. He occasionally taught students about biological genetics. While working as a teacher, he also owned an independent laboratory funded by Osborn Industries. The company's owner, Norman Osborn, was very interested in Connors's research.

It was a study on limb regeneration, a technology with vast prospects and markets in medical applications. That was why Norman Osborn allocated Connors a substantial research budget every year, hoping to complete this groundbreaking project.

Connors walked out of his office with a troubled expression. He had once been a military doctor, drafted during the war and sent to the front lines to treat the wounded. He was severely injured in a massive explosion and had to have one arm amputated to save his life. After returning to the university, he began tirelessly studying reptilian regenerative systems and delving into biological genetics, all to restore the part of his body he had lost.

After years of painstaking research, Connors had finally seen a glimmer of hope. Many scientific obstacles had been overcome, and he firmly believed that if he had just a little more time, he could complete his research on limb regeneration.

But at this most crucial moment, Osborn Industries cut off funding for the laboratory. Connors learned that the rapidly rising industrial giant had recently run into serious trouble. Its stock price was plummeting like an avalanche, while rumors of its breakup and acquisition continued to spread. With Norman Osborn too overwhelmed to save himself, he naturally could no longer provide such costly research funding.

This left Connors in an awkward position. He was clearly only one step away from success, yet insufficient funding made it impossible to continue his research. To him, it was a crushing blow.

Thinking of how the efforts and dedication of most of his life might soon vanish like a dream, a flush of anger rose to Connors's pale, gaunt cheeks. He clenched his fists and looked at the interns bustling around the laboratory. The dark, ashen look on his face gradually turned into helpless dejection.

"Good morning, Dr. Connors."

A young man stood before Connors with a warm smile on his face. The dull middle-aged man snapped back to his senses and recognized him as one of his interns.

A smile was forced onto Connors's stiff face. "Hello, Sean. I read your paper on cross-species genetics and biological genes. It has some very interesting ideas."

Connors was quite satisfied with this sunny-looking young man. No matter what task he gave Sean, he could always complete it exceptionally well. Even tedious work like cleaning laboratory equipment was handled with great patience.

That was why Connors had always appreciated the young man. He had planned to formally recruit Sean into the research lab once his project succeeded and he gained the honor and recognition he had long dreamed of, entrusting him with truly core research work.

Now it was all empty talk. Without Osborn Industries' funding, there was no way to continue the unfinished research. The future he had envisioned had become like the moon reflected in water or flowers in a mirror—illusory and fragile.

As Sean watched Dr. Connors's lonely figure, he could not help finding it strange. Had I triggered the Lizard's storyline?

In the original timeline, this quiet, one-armed middle-aged man, like the desperate Norman Osborn, had used himself for human experimentation for a series of reasons. The result was a mutation that turned him into a gigantic humanoid lizard.

Sean had joined Connors's laboratory only to provide a reasonable excuse for his future achievements. Otherwise, if someone with no systematic education and no scientific knowledge suddenly produced research results with immense value and potential, people would inevitably question it.

Tony Stark's genius reputation was supported by the vast Stark Industries and an MIT degree. Since that was the case, Sean could not fall behind either.

He had been waiting for the right opportunity to gain his first stepping stone. Osborn Industries, whose stock price had recently crashed, was one of Sean's targets.

The Green Goblin's high-tech equipment had been stolen from Osborn Industries. Sean had anonymously sent that information to the Daily Bugle. Norman Osborn had risked testing the Human Enhancement Serum on himself, only to lose control of his emotions and become the brutal, murderous Green Goblin. Unless something unexpected happened, he would sooner or later die at Spider-Man's hands. At that point, Harry would naturally take over the company on the brink of bankruptcy.

Sean had already prepared plans for everything that came afterward. If he wanted to transform himself from an ordinary New York kid into a major figure like Tony Stark, the power granted by the system alone would be far from enough.

There were simply too many terrifyingly powerful people in this world. If he believed that the system would let him crush every Superhero, he would only end up in the difficult position of being surrounded and hunted down.

Sean did not want to trail behind Superheroes and S.H.I.E.L.D., accepting orders from that Black director. Nor did he want to be like Hydra, hiding in some dark, deserted corner and plotting to fight the Avengers and rule the world.

He wanted to forge a path of his own between Superheroes and evil villains, free from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s restraints and Hydra's threats. To achieve that goal, Sean needed not only immense power, but also a sufficiently stable position—a vast force built from wealth and influence. That was why he had secretly set Norman Osborn up. He believed the Green Goblin was currently scrambling to deal with the crisis engulfing his company.

"If Spider-Man doesn't take care of the Green Goblin, should I step in?" Sean pondered, tapping his chin.

If the butterfly effect altered the timeline and the Green Goblin somehow continued living just fine, it would be extremely unfavorable to Sean's plans. Compared with the easily controlled Harry, the shrewd and calculating Norman Osborn would be much harder to handle.

"Peter, don't let me down." Sean changed into his white lab uniform and began another day.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a blonde girl walking toward him. He concealed the coldness in his gaze and immediately put on a cheerful smile, looking every bit like a harmless, sunny young man.

"Hi, Gwen. I thought you'd stay home and rest for a while longer." Sean greeted the blonde girl with concern as she blinked her large eyes.

Spider-Man's first love was carrying a bag in both hands, a faintly shy expression on her pretty face. Sean inexplicably felt the atmosphere becoming subtle, as though a hint of ambiguity had filled the air.

"These are your clothes. I washed them for you... Thank you," the girl said in a voice barely louder than a mosquito's. If Sean had not possessed extraordinary hearing, he truly would not have known what she said.

The young man took the bag and found the suit jacket he had temporarily draped over the blonde girl when he saved her last time. He had completely forgotten about it afterward.

"Uh, I only did what I should have done. Anyone in that situation would have stepped forward."

Sean did not know that his seemingly modest manner only made him more appealing to the girl. Gwen decided that he was a steady, unvain young man, and an inexplicable joy rose within her heart.

The two chatted and laughed as they entered the bustling laboratory. Meanwhile, in Connors's private office, the one-armed doctor wore an expression of deep conflict, seemingly hesitating over whether to make a risky decision.