Chapter Fourteen: The Birth of the Lizardman

Michael watched Gwen leave, touching his lips in disbelief. That was my first kiss. No wonder Americans have that wild, untamed spirit—even Gwen carries some of it in her heart.

He turned away, and as he walked past a corridor, he happened to see Peter standing there, frozen as if struck by lightning.

“Nothing happened between us…” At that moment, Michael felt a pang of guilt, as if he’d been caught red-handed in a secret affair.

“I know…” Peter’s face was stricken, and Michael couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Really, there’s nothing between us. She was just thanking me, and things got a little emotional, that’s all.”

“I understand, you don’t have to explain. I won’t tell anyone,” Peter replied, then walked away with an air of forced nonchalance.

Watching Peter’s retreating figure, Michael’s lips twitched. My God, what does he think he understands? Their relationship wasn’t exactly close, so Michael decided not to concern himself further.

Back in the lab, Peter was on the verge of tears. Dr. Connors noticed his distress and asked with concern, “Peter, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Doctor.”

Seeing the pain on Peter’s face, Connors felt a pang of sadness himself. Since his divorce, he’d never seen his son again, but these past few days with Peter had brought him a sense of warmth he hadn’t felt in years.

“No matter what it is, you can talk to me. Don’t bottle it up and make yourself suffer.”

Peter looked up at Connors’ kind face and said, “I saw Gwen kiss Michael.”

Dr. Connors immediately understood.

“Son, they’re not a couple yet. You still have a chance.”

“I know, Doctor.”

But Peter didn’t seem convinced. He turned away, trying to hide his grief-stricken face. Connors placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, gently turning him back.

“Look me in the eyes, Peter.”

Peter lifted his gaze, peering through his tears at Connors.

“You’re not inferior to Michael in any way. Both of you are smart, good-looking young men. What you lack is support. Someone once supported Michael, and he succeeded, but that doesn’t mean he’s any better than you. Now, you’re on the verge of success yourself. Perhaps you haven’t realized the greatness of what we’ve accomplished. When our achievement is announced, you’ll be celebrated as a prodigy, just like Michael. I won’t allow you to think of yourself as lesser. Do you understand?”

Looking into Connors’ eyes, Peter’s gaze gradually brightened. Compared to his peers, Peter was exceptionally intelligent and diligent, but he’d always lacked confidence. No matter how kind his aunt and uncle were, they could never fully replace the role of parents. Out on the street, people still called him the kid without parents, leaving Peter with deep-seated insecurity.

After entering high school, his uncle could no longer help with his studies, and their communication grew sparse. Peter, preferring to keep everything to himself, inadvertently widened the gap between them.

Now, the mature and steady Connors seemed more like a father to Peter than Ben Parker ever had, giving him the confidence he needed.

“As long as they’re not married, you still have a chance. And as a man, you should express your feelings. Even if it doesn’t work out, don’t leave yourself with regrets.”

Peter nodded firmly, resolving to confess to Gwen once everything was over. At the very least, he wanted to stand before her with his head held high. Compared to Michael, he was not lacking in anything.

Seeing Peter regain his confidence, Connors patted him on the shoulder with satisfaction.

“Dr. Connors.”

Connors turned to see several soldiers standing outside the laboratory.

“Peter, it’s time for you to go home.”

“Alright.”

Peter knew Dr. Connors had important matters to discuss with the military, so he nodded and left.

A few minutes later, the military left with large quantities of reagents.

Connors stared at the lab bench, slamming his fist down in frustration, sending the nearby test tubes rattling. The military had just given him a stern warning: he must complete human trials today, or all funding would be cut off—even Osborn wouldn’t help him. Connors had refused, insisting that animal trials weren’t complete and it was too soon for human testing. But faced with the military’s determination, they took the experimental drugs and left, planning to test them directly on wounded veterans at the rehabilitation hospital. From their perspective, things couldn’t get any worse for those men. Rather than wasting money on treatment, at least they could serve some purpose.

But for Connors, this was a disaster. He didn’t know exactly who the test subjects would be, but whoever bore the cost of a failed experiment, his conscience would not allow it.

He stood before a mirror, extending his left hand, so that in the reflection it appeared he had two hands. If anyone most longed for this experiment’s success, it was Connors himself. But as a scientist, he knew how much a drug must endure from trial to final product, and so he had held back.

But now, he could wait no longer.

If someone had to pay the price as the first test subject, let it be me.

Connors took the experimental serum and injected it into his withered right arm.

In the next instant, agony overwhelmed him. He collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain.

His right arm began to grow, rapidly forming a complete limb. In the midst of this excruciating transformation, Connors lost consciousness.

Who knows how much time passed before he awoke from the faint. He stared at his newly grown arm, peeling away the outer cocoon to reveal a limb slick with viscous fluid. Through the nearly translucent skin, the veins and bones were visible, and Connors was beside himself with joy.

After a while, the sticky membrane receded, and the hand gradually returned to normal.

“I did it—though there are still some flaws.”

The arm’s proportions were off—by most measures, it was a failure, but not a total one. With careful refinement, it could truly be used in medicine.

He quickly called the general, eager to share the news and persuade him to delay the human trials.

But when he reached the general’s secretary, he learned that the general was already on his way to the veterans’ hospital.

Connors immediately realized they were going to experiment on those wounded veterans. He couldn’t allow it.

Just as he was about to explain the gravity of the situation, another wave of searing pain shot through him. Scales—like those of a lizard—began to form on his arm.

Damn it.

The side effects were far worse than he’d imagined. He had to stop the general, or it would be a catastrophe.

Connors, enduring the agony, hurried downstairs and hailed a taxi to the bridge.

By now, green scales had begun to appear on other parts of his body as well, and his entire arm transformed into a monstrous claw.

This was no minor flaw in the serum—it was a disaster. He had to stop the general, no matter what.