Funding

The morning sun shone on New York, its golden rays cascading over the steel jungle. The bustling metropolis seemed to awaken from its slumber, radiating astonishing vitality and energy.

Dr. Connors, his hair a mess, arrived at his laboratory as usual. The moment he stepped through the door, he saw Davis, a supervisor from Osborn Industries. This middle-aged man, always impeccably dressed in a suit, frequently accompanied Norman Osborn and was responsible for handling various business affairs.

Now, Mr. Davis had arrogantly barged into the laboratory. With an air of disregard for everyone around him, he was instructing his security guards to begin moving files from the archive room. The previously busy work atmosphere was abruptly shattered, and all the researchers looked at Connors in bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Connors, but Mr. Norman has already given you ample time and funding. However, your research project has been slow to show any breakthrough progress, so it's time for Osborn Industries to terminate this failed investment."

Davis wore a fake smile. The one-armed middle-aged man before him remained silent, his eyes dull, as if all vitality had been drained from him.

However, as a senior executive of Osborn Industries, Davis felt no pity. Dr. Connors had spent a vast amount of money and time, yet still hadn't produced any successful research results. From a business perspective, Mr. Norman should have terminated this project long ago to minimize losses for the company.

"You have two hours. Please pack your belongings and leave as soon as possible. This laboratory no longer belongs to you." Davis looked at the disbelieving researchers, a cold smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, and you are not allowed to take any documents or data related to the research project. If our security guards at the entrance find anything, you'll be going to jail."

Gwen, standing by the door, was dejected. She had worked hard to get an internship in this laboratory, only to have to leave in such a humiliating and embarrassing manner after such a short time.

"My students are good kids, they wouldn't do such a thing, Mr. Davis..." Connors said, looking through the window at the imposing figures standing guard at the entrance, a hint of anger in his voice.

"You need to understand your position, Dr. Connors!" Davis glanced dismissively at the washed-up scientist. "I've seen your file, Curt Connors. You're a pathetic joke in the mainstream scientific community. No one has any faith in your research! You're just a charlatan who somehow deceived Mr. Norman. Now, take your things and get out immediately!"

Hearing Davis's ruthless mockery, Connors's face turned crimson. Being poor at arguing, he couldn't offer any strong rebuttal and could only silently endure the man's humiliation and ridicule.

Looking at the laboratory about to be shut down and sealed, Connors felt as if his heart were being twisted. He knew his scientific path had reached its end, and his life had lost all hope from this point on.

"Doctor, are you alright?" Gwen asked, holding a cardboard box in her hands.

The pretty, lovely blonde girl looked around with a confused expression. She hadn't seen Sean for the past couple of days and couldn't find him anywhere at school. She wondered what that guy was busy with.

Connors waved his hand. He seemed to have aged ten years in an instant, exuding an aura of profound weariness. The one-armed middle-aged man scanned the room, not seeing Sean. He remembered the solemn promise the young man had made and gave a self-deprecating laugh. It was just the impulsive words of a passionate young man. Maintaining a laboratory required an unimaginably vast amount of funding.

Sean was still just a university student who hadn't yet stepped out of academia. Even with his extraordinary talent in scientific research, who would be willing to invest heavily in sponsoring a washed-up, down-on-his-luck scientist without any results?!

He shouldn't have held out any hope from the beginning. Connors stumbled out of the research room. If the human trials that day hadn't been interrupted, he wondered what the outcome would have been. Even if it cost him his life, it would have been better than this, having all his research results taken away and being driven out.

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

The one-armed middle-aged man turned his head and saw a black Chevrolet parked at the laboratory entrance. Sean emerged from the car, accompanied by a young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses.

"Sean, you..."

Connors looked at the smiling young man, momentarily speechless. The laboratory had already been repossessed and sealed by Osborn Industries. According to the initial contract, all research results and documents were to be taken away.

"Don't worry, Dr. Connors, all the problems have been resolved."

Sean said confidently. He introduced the young man beside him, "This is Mr. James Wesley. He has an extraordinary passion and insight for science. I spoke with Mr. Wesley about your research project, and he is very willing to fund you to continue this research."

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

Wesley, impeccably dressed, smiled. No one could tell that he had once been the personal assistant to a notorious gangster. "Once your research is successful, it will be a boon to countless disabled individuals. I am very optimistic about this project."

"This..." The sudden good news stunned the usually reserved Connors. He had never imagined that Sean would solve such a monumental problem.

Seeing Dr. Connors, who couldn't quite process the information, Sean smiled understandingly. He took a document from Wesley and walked directly into the noisy, chaotic laboratory, standing before Davis, who was issuing orders.

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

Davis contemptuously glanced at this unknown youngster who had appeared out of nowhere. Too lazy to even speak, he waved his hand, signaling the security guards to drag him out.

Colleagues who usually worked together watched Sean with astonished eyes, seemingly unable to understand why he was stepping forward to intervene now. Even Dr. Connors couldn't do anything; what could an intern like him do?!

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

As the burly security guards approached, Sean sneered. He slapped the document in his hand onto Davis's chest and said, "Are you sure you want to do this? This is a transfer agreement signed between Mr. James Wesley and Osborn Industries, and it also bears Norman Osborn's signature. This laboratory now belongs to Dr. Connors. Everything you are doing now is illegal!"

The young man's every word struck Davis like a bolt from the blue. He nervously took the document and quickly flipped through it. Seeing the signature and seal at the end, his face instantly turned pale.

"This... I'm sorry, I didn't receive this information..." Davis forced a smile and lowered his stance to explain.

"Then, I'll give you one hour to restore everything to its original state. Don't take anything from this research room, or I'll send you to federal prison."

Finally, the young man added a seemingly well-intentioned reminder, "That Mr. James Wesley comes from Hell's Kitchen and used to serve the infamous Kingpin."

Seeing the man with glasses standing outside the door, Davis's face turned even paler. Who in New York wasn't afraid of Kingpin's notorious reputation?

Watching the Osborn Industries executive flee in a panic, Connors asked, somewhat puzzled, "What exactly did you say to him? He seemed terrified."

"I just told that gentleman that the scientist you see before you, who looks very approachable, turns into a lizard man at night and will twist off his head," Sean replied with a shrug and a smile.

Connors chuckled. How could such a flimsy fairy tale possibly scare Davis? He didn't press further. In any case, all the problems were solved, and he could return to his research work.

"Thank you, Sean."

The one-armed middle-aged man expressed his sincere gratitude. If it weren't for Sean finding him a new investor, he would have lost all hope in life.

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

A smile appeared on Sean's lips. He had successfully taken the first step, and he would achieve more next.

ps: Ahhh, the cover art for the contract I've been waiting for is just this level...

Never mind, I'll find a Taobao artist myself (╯︵╰)