Dr. Connors

Dr. Connors was a visiting professor at the State University of New York, occasionally lecturing students on genetics. Alongside his teaching duties, he ran his own independent laboratory funded by Osborn Industries. The company's owner, Norman Osborn, took a keen interest in Connors' ongoing research.

That research focused on limb regeneration technology, which held vast promise and market potential in medical applications. That's why Norman Osborn allocated substantial research funds to Connors each year, aiming to complete this groundbreaking project.

Connors walked out of his office with a troubled expression. He had once been a military doctor, drafted into war and sent to the front lines to treat the wounded. In a massive explosion, he was severely injured, losing an arm to amputation to save his life. Returning to university, he threw himself into studying the regenerative systems of reptiles and delving into the field of genetics—all to restore what he had lost.

After years of painstaking research, Connors had glimpsed a glimmer of hope. Many scientific hurdles had been successfully overcome. He firmly believed that with just a bit more time, he could complete the limb regeneration technology.

But at this critical moment, Osborn Industries cut off funding for the lab. Upon inquiring, Connors learned that this rising industrial giant had run into serious trouble. Its stock price was plummeting like an avalanche, and rumors swirled about a potential split or acquisition. Norman Osborn, overwhelmed by his own problems, could hardly continue to foot the hefty research bills.

This left Connors in an awkward spot. He was just one step away from success, yet a lack of funds made it impossible to push the research forward. For him, it was a crushing blow.

Thinking about how the efforts and dedication of most of his life might dissolve into nothing, a flush of angry color rose on his pale, gaunt cheeks. He clenched his fists, staring at the busy interns in the lab, his dark, grim expression slowly shifting into helpless dejection.

"Good morning, Dr. Connors."

A young boy stood before Connors, a warm smile on his face. The dazed middle-aged man snapped back to reality, recognizing one of his interns.

Connors forced a smile onto his stiff face: "Hello, Sean. I read your paper on cross-species genetics and biological genes. Very thoughtful."

For this seemingly sunny young man, Connors had nothing but satisfaction. No matter the task, as long as it was handed to Sean, he always completed it brilliantly—even tedious work like cleaning lab equipment, which he handled with patience.

So Connors had always admired this young boy, planning to formally recruit him into the research team once his own study succeeded and he reaped the honors and glory he dreamed of, entrusting him with truly core research work.

Now it was all empty talk. Without Osborn Industries' funding, continuing the unfinished research was utterly impossible. The future he had envisioned in his mind had become a moon in the water, a flower in the mirror—illusory and fragile.

Sean watched Dr. Connors' desolate retreating figure and couldn't help but wonder: had he triggered the Lizard's storyline?

In the original timeline, this taciturn, one-armed middle-aged man, driven by a series of circumstances and like the cornered Norman Osborn, experimented on himself with human trials, mutating into a massive humanoid lizard.

Sean had joined Connors' lab solely to create a plausible excuse for his future achievements. Otherwise, a guy with no formal education and zero scientific knowledge suddenly producing a breakthrough with immense value would inevitably draw criticism.

Tony Stark's genius halo was backed by the massive Stark Industries and an MIT degree. So Sean couldn't afford to fall behind.

He had been waiting for the right moment to secure his first stepping stone. Osborn Industries, with its recent stock crash, was one of Sean's targeted goals.

The high-tech gear on the Green Goblin was stolen from Osborn Industries—that was the tip Sean had anonymously sent to the Daily Bugle. Norman Osborn risked testing the Human Enhancement Serum on himself, only to lose control of his emotions and become the violent, murderous Green Goblin. Barring accidents, he'd eventually die at Spider-Man's hands, and Harry would smoothly take over the nearly bankrupt company.

Everything after that, Sean had already planned. To transform from an ordinary New York kid into a big shot like Tony Stark, relying solely on the system's power was far from enough.

This world was packed with terrifyingly powerful figures. Thinking he could steamroll all superheroes with just the system would only lead to a tough situation of being ganged up on and taken down.

Sean didn't want to trail behind superheroes and S.H.I.E.L.D., taking orders from that black director. Nor did he want to hide in dark, forgotten corners like Hydra, plotting to fight the Avengers and rule the world.

He wanted to carve his own path between superheroes and evil villains—free from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s constraints and Hydra's threats. To achieve that, Sean needed not just immense power, but a solid foothold: a vast force built on wealth and influence. So, he had schemed against Norman Osborn from the shadows, betting that the Green Goblin was now scrambling to handle his company's crisis.

"If Spider-Man doesn't take out the Green Goblin, should I step in?" Sean tapped his chin, pondering.

If the butterfly effect altered the timeline and the Green Goblin survived, it would be disastrous for Sean's plans. Compared to the easily controlled Harry, the cunning Norman Osborn was a tough nut to crack.

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

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a blonde girl approaching. He reined in the coldness in his gaze, immediately swapping it for a cheerful smile, looking like a harmless, sunny young man.

"Hey, Gwen. I thought you'd stay home and rest a bit longer." Sean greeted the wide-eyed blonde girl with concern.

This was Spider-Man's first love. She was holding a bag in both hands, a faintly shy expression on her pretty face. Sean felt the atmosphere turn subtly strange, as if a hint of awkward intimacy was spreading.

"These are your clothes. I washed them for you... Thank you." The girl's voice was barely a whisper. If Sean hadn't had sharp hearing, he wouldn't have caught what she said.

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

"Uh, I just did what anyone would. Anyone in that situation would have stepped up."

Sean didn't realize that his seemingly modest demeanor only endeared him more to the girl. Gwen decided this young man was steady and not vain, and a wave of inexplicable joy welled up inside her.

The two chatted and laughed as they walked into the bustling lab. Meanwhile, in Connors' private office, the one-armed doctor wore a face full of struggle, as if hesitating over some risky decision.