Funding

Morning sunlight shone over New York, golden rays spilling across the steel jungle. The bustling metropolis seemed to awaken from its slumber, bursting with astonishing vitality and life.

Dr. Connors arrived at his laboratory as usual, his hair disheveled. The moment he stepped through the doors, he saw Davis, a supervisor from Osborn Industries. This middle-aged man in a suit often followed Norman Osborn around, handling all manner of business affairs.

Now, Mr. Davis had swaggered into the laboratory with an arrogant, self-important air, ordering the security guards under him into the archives to begin moving documents. The once-busy work atmosphere was abruptly shattered, and all the researchers looked at Connors in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Connors, but Mr. Norman has already given you enough time and funding. Yet your research project has failed to make any breakthrough progress, so it is time for Osborn Industries to end this failed investment."

Davis wore a false smile. The one-armed middle-aged man before him remained silent, his eyes dim, as though all life had drained from him.

But as a senior executive at Osborn Industries, Davis felt not the slightest bit of sympathy. Dr. Connors had consumed enormous amounts of money and time, yet still produced no successful research results. From a business perspective, Mr. Norman should have shut down this project long ago and reduced the company's losses in time.

"You have two hours. Pack up your belongings and leave as soon as possible. This laboratory no longer belongs to you." Davis looked at the disbelieving researchers, a sneer curling at his lips. "Oh, and you are not permitted to take any documents or materials related to the research project. If the guards at the entrance find any on you, you'll be going to prison."

Gwen stood by the door, her spirits low. She had worked so hard just to become an intern in this laboratory, but before long, she was being forced to leave in such a humiliating and miserable manner.

"My students are all good kids. They would never do something like that, Mr. Davis..." Connors said angrily as he looked through the window at the burly men standing at the entrance.

"You should understand your position, Dr. Connors!" Davis glanced disdainfully at the washed-up, down-and-out scientist. "I've read your file, Curt Connors. You're a pathetic joke in the mainstream scientific community. No one thinks highly of your research! You're just a fraud, and I don't know what method you used to deceive Mr. Norman. Now take your things and get out immediately!"

Listening to Davis's merciless ridicule, Connors's face flushed crimson. Never good with words, he had no way to offer a forceful rebuttal and could only silently endure the humiliation and mockery.

Looking at the laboratory that was about to be shut down and sealed off, Connors felt as though his heart were being carved apart. He knew his scientific path had reached its end, and his life had lost all hope from this day onward.

"Doctor, are you all right?" Gwen asked with concern, holding a cardboard box in both hands.

The pretty blonde girl looked around in confusion. She had not seen Sean these past two days, nor could she find him at school. She wondered what that guy had been busy with.

Connors waved his hand. In an instant, he seemed to have aged ten years, his entire body giving off a heavy air of decline. The one-armed middle-aged man glanced around and did not see Sean. Remembering the young man's solemn promise, Connors gave a self-mocking smile. It had merely been empty bravado from a hot-blooded young man. Keeping a laboratory operating normally required an unimaginably enormous amount of money.

Sean was only a college student who had not yet left the ivory tower. Even if he possessed extraordinary talent in scientific research, who would be willing to invest a huge sum in sponsoring a washed-up and unsuccessful scientist with no results to show?

He should never have held out hope from the beginning. Connors trudged out of the research room. If the human experiment that day had not been interrupted, who knew what the result might have been? Even paying with his life would have been better than this—having all his research taken away, then being driven out the door.

"Dr. Connors." A familiar voice called out to the dejected Connors as he left.

The one-armed middle-aged man turned around and saw a black Chevrolet parked outside the laboratory. Sean stepped out of the car, accompanied by a young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses.

"Sean, you..."

Connors looked at the brightly smiling young man and found himself momentarily at a loss for words. The laboratory had already been repossessed and shut down by Osborn Industries. According to the terms of the original contract, all research results and documents were to be taken away.

"Don't worry, Dr. Connors. All the problems have been solved."

Sean was brimming with confidence as he introduced the young man beside him. "This is Mr. James Wesley. He possesses an extraordinary passion for and insight into science. I told Mr. Wesley about your research project, and he is very willing to sponsor you in completing it."

"Hello, Dr. Connors." Wesley warmly shook the one-armed middle-aged man's hand.

Impeccably dressed and smiling, Wesley looked nothing like a former personal assistant to a gang boss. "Once your research succeeds, it will be a blessing for countless disabled people. I think very highly of this project."

"This..." The sudden good news left the dull-witted Connors standing frozen in place. He had never imagined Sean would solve such an enormous problem.

Seeing that Dr. Connors could not take it all in at once, Sean smiled understandingly. He took a document from Wesley and walked straight into the noisy laboratory, stopping before Davis, who was barking orders.

"I don't know who you are, but please stop what you're doing immediately," Sean said bluntly.

Davis cast a contemptuous glance at this brat who had appeared from nowhere. He could not even be bothered to speak and simply waved for the guards to drag him out.

The colleagues who had worked with him looked at Sean in surprise, seemingly unable to understand why he was stepping forward to stop them at a time like this. Even Dr. Connors could do nothing, so what could an intern like him possibly do?

"Sean..." Gwen called out worriedly, clutching her cardboard box.

Watching the burly guards close in, Sean gave a cold smile. He slapped the document in his hand against Davis's chest and said, "Are you sure you want to do this? This is a transfer contract signed between Mr. James Wesley and Osborn Industries. It bears Norman Osborn's signature as well. This laboratory now belongs to Dr. Connors. Everything you are doing right now is illegal!"

Every word from the young man struck like a bolt from the blue. Davis took the document in slight panic and flipped through it rapidly. When he saw the signature and seal at the end, his face instantly turned pale.

"This... I'm sorry, I didn't receive this information..." Davis forced out a smile and lowered his posture as he explained.

"Then I'm giving you one hour to restore everything to how it was. Do not take a single thing from this laboratory, or I'll send you to federal prison."

At last, the young man added what seemed like a friendly reminder. "That Mr. James Wesley is from Hell's Kitchen. He once worked for the infamous Kingpin."

When Davis saw the bespectacled man standing outside the door, his face grew even more bloodless. In New York, who did not fear Kingpin's vicious reputation?

Watching the Osborn Industries executive flee in panic, Connors asked in confusion, "What exactly did you say to him? He looked terrified."

"I merely told that gentleman that the scientist in front of him, who looks so easygoing, turns into the Lizard at night and twists off his head," Sean answered with a shrug and a smile.

Connors laughed it off. How could such a clumsy fairy tale possibly frighten Davis? He did not press further. In any case, all the problems had been solved, and he could return to his research.

"Thank you, Sean."

The one-armed middle-aged man thanked him sincerely. If Sean had not found him a new investor, he would have lost every last hope in his life.

"We can create a better future, Dr. Connors."

A faint smile appeared on Sean's lips. He had successfully taken the first step. Next, he would gain even more.

P.S. Aaaah, the contract cover I waited so long for turned out to be this bad...

Forget it. I'll find a Taobao graphic designer myself. (╯︵╰)