Osborne Industry.

A separate studio.

Harry Osborne sat upright on an indoor chair, his right fingers nimblely turning a pen. His expression was very calm, but his heart was completely opposite to the calmness on his face.

Meng Ao did not come.

Didn't show up at the funeral.

He thought that even if Meng Ao would not choose to reconcile with him and come in person, he would appoint a representative to attend. But Meng Ao did it more simply, just as Norman Osborne did when Mendel Stom died.

Don't even ask.

Ignore it.

This made Harry's already suppressed heart heavier.

This is not a good sign.

Or it doesn't fit Harry's inner expectations.

The sound of footsteps comes from the outside.

Harry immediately calmed down and looked in the direction of the door. A middle-aged man in a white study uniform pushed open the transparent glass door and stepped forward.

The visitor had a sparse short blond hair, a pair of black-framed glasses on his high nose, a thin face with an unnatural smile, and a gentle temperament. Putting aside his ordinary facial features and thin figure, the most eye-catching thing about the visitor was his right arm that broke from his elbow.

"Dr. Curtis Connors?" Harry stood up from the chair immediately, his eyes flashed over his chest and his identity plate on his study uniform.

"Yes." Curtis Connors looked at Harry with a slightly unnatural expression. Although he was much older than Harry, for someone who had been immersed in research for more than ten years and had no intention of others, Connors' communication methods did not match his age.

He can face his research failures calmly again and again, and become more courageous as he sets down, but he has no confidence in dealing with someone who can decide his life and death in just one sentence.

In other words, his tenacious psychological quality that he cultivated under the failure of his research results is of little use in an environment that has nothing to do with research.

"Don't be nervous, I just want to see you." Harry walked to Curtis Connors and stretched out his hand: "My father praised you very much during his lifetime, and regarded you as the most outstanding helmist in the field of industrial biological genes in Osborne after Richard Parker."

"It's Dr. Richard Parker." Curtis Connors held Harry's hand, "Please bring the word "Doctor".

"Okay." Harry smiled: "Maybe you don't know, my son Peter Parker and I are good friends."

"He is a good guy, and his talent in the field of biological genes is amazing. If he has the right environment and sufficient time to grow, his future achievements may be enough to be comparable to his father." Curtis Connors praised Peter Parker.

"I think you're going crazy with joy when Peter hears your words."

After the two exchanged greetings with each other, Harry asked softly: "I heard that your research has made great breakthroughs recently, and is close to success?"

Harry's voice was very steady when he spoke, just like before, but only he knew what kind of tension he felt when he asked this sentence. He was afraid of what bad news he had heard from Curtis Connors that made him even more upset.

He is now like a desperate beast, desperately catching and biting any chance around him that can give him hope for life.

"No, no, no, it cannot be said to be successful. It has achieved the effect I want, but it still lacks sufficient clinical verification. The experimental stage is now conducting drug experiments on animals." Curtis Connors waved his hand and said.

"It's called Fred, a mouse with his right forelimb broken." Curtis Connors took out a rectangular piece from a corner, a pet box like a birdcage. Inside, a mouse with strong limbs was twitching its nose and moving in the narrow space.

"It looks normal." After saying that, Harry seemed to think he was too general and vague, adding: "I mean, it has a healthy limb."

“Because I injected it with a transspecies gene agent,” Curtis Connors said. “Its broken limbs are reborn.”

"The potion looks successful," Harry said, feeling his voice dry.

Connors' words made a hot and thrill of impulse and joy emerge in his tired and cold body recently, wave after wave, washed his blood vessels and heart. He could even hear the violent beating heart in his chest, just as if he wanted to explode!

"I admit that, but it's just the beginning, and I need more time to perfect it a little bit," Curtis Connors said.

"Can't it be faster?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Faster?" Curtis Connors frowned.

"I mean, conduct clinical trials faster," Harry looked at Curtis Connors with his eyes burningly, and seriously said the last two heavy parts: "Human body."

"It's too fast! You shouldn't be anxious about any experiment, especially at the ending stage." Curtis Connors' face and tone were more serious than Harry: "I don't want you to repeat your father's mistakes. He is too eager to achieve success. I can understand the pressure he has been under the entanglement of the disease, but you are different from Harry. You are still young and have enough time to wait."

"I need it, Doctor!" Harry looked at Curtis Connors and repeated solemnly: "I need it incredibly!"

“Both me, or for your research, I need it to be released early and mature! Before I can still be the CEO of Osborne Industry!”

...

In a dilapidated and empty factory.

"I'm very busy with little Meng'ao." Nick Fury, director of SHIELD, looked at Meng'ao, who was sitting opposite him with helpless look on his face.

"It's just a business deal." Meng Ao said with a smile.

"Business? It seems that we have only done a business recently, and that business failed. We also signed an order contract for the biological weapon 'Tyrant', but it has not yet reached the delivery date. What business can we do besides the Super Serum and your biological weapon plan?" Nick Fury frowned: "Is it an order expansion?"

"No, no," Meng Ao waved his hand, "Super serum still has a high scary adaptation rate and mortality rate so far. Although the tyrant is powerful, it has great limitations. It is not smart enough. In an environment where it cannot accept instructions, it lacks the ability to adapt."

Nick Fury looked at Meng Ao with a cold face. After the end of his speech, the cold frost faded away bit by bit. He pulled a chair open, and his legs pulled out a harsh noise on the ground, and sat down opposite Meng Ao: "It's hard to imagine a businessman who is not praising his products heavily when facing the only buyer of his products, but actively exposing the shortcomings of his products."
Chapter completed!