BOOM!!!
Norman Osborn's brain crashed for the second time.
If seeing the school restored had only shattered his worldview,
then, at this moment, when he recognized Peter's face, he began to wonder whether he was still asleep—how could he be having such an absurd dream?!
The Punisher… is Peter Parker?!
The straight-A, somewhat introverted kid who's best friends with his own son?!
The teenage prodigy who helped Dr. Curt Connors complete the Decay Rate Algorithm?!
In an instant, countless clues snapped together in his mind.
Norman Osborn couldn't stop himself from blurting out:
"If The Punisher is Peter, then Ghost-Spider must be…'
Norman suddenly recalled his son once mentioning that Peter had a childhood friend named Gwen, and that girl seemed to be Dr. Connors' assistant!
"Gwen Stacy?!"
Could the World really be this small?
His gut told him the conclusion was outrageously absurd.
Just as Norman was about to laugh it off as a "joke," he noticed the smile on Peter's face vanish.
The boy he'd treated like a nephew stared at him coldly, a faint but unmistakable murderous aura flooding the study:
"Green Goblin, you know too much."
Peter stepped toward Norman, voice icy:
"For Harry… and for Gwen… it looks like I'll have to silence you permanently."
The instant those words hit him, Norman felt a chill shoot from the soles of his feet to the top of his skull.
Why couldn't he keep his big mouth shut?!
At that moment Norman wanted nothing more than to slap himself silly.
Even if he'd guessed it, he didn't have to say it out loud!
Regret washed over him and he instinctively opened his mouth to beg.
Before a sound could escape, a hand flashed out and pressed against his chest.
It was over.
He was going to die.
Norman shut his eyes in despair.
But… one second passed, then two, then ten… yet he felt no blinding pain; instead, a warm, peaceful, life-filled energy surged through every limb!
Hum—
Norman felt as though his body were submerged in a spring.
The cracks threatening to tear him apart were slowly being glued shut.
The mad, savage persona that called itself "Green Goblin" howled in defiance.
Before this strange power it melted like snow under the sun, silenced and erased.
A few seconds later the light faded.
Peter withdrew his hand; Norman shivered and slowly opened his eyes.
He stared at his hands in disbelief, feeling reborn.
His body was more comfortable than ever, and inside, his mind was utterly calm—
as if he'd received a sacred baptism from the inside out.
Only then did he realize what Peter had meant by "silencing"… An indescribable gratitude and guilt flooded his heart.
The boy had not only saved his life but had also chosen this way to set him on the right path.
"Peter… I…"
Norman Osborn's voice cracked.
The man who commanded a hundred-billion-dollar empire and could make Wall Street tremble with a stomp was on the verge of tears.
Gratitude filled his heart toward the teenager before him.
"Don't get too emotional, Uncle Norman. It's what I should do—Harry's my best buddy, after all."
Peter's tone stayed flat, as though he'd done nothing worth mentioning.
He turned and applied the same technique to the unconscious Dr. Connors.
White light flashed; Dr. Lizard's hideous scales and mutations receded, his injuries healed, and even his severed right arm regrew before their eyes.
Norman Osborn watched, stunned.
"Peter, what kind of power is this?"
"Hmm, you could call it my… magic."
Norman clicked his tongue, instinctively savoring the wondrous sensation.
That feeling was so marvelous it was hard not to crave it for himself… Only when he caught himself entertaining such an ungrateful thought did he notice a gaze on him.
Following it, he found Peter regarding him with a half-smile:
"What are you thinking, Uncle Norman?"
That look sent another chill through Norman; every reckless idea evaporated instantly.
Forget it—this power wasn't something he could ever wield; it belonged to Peter alone.
"I—I was just curious how you… acquired this ability?" he couldn't help asking.
He'd practically watched the boy grow up, yet had never sensed such talent.
"Honestly, I don't know; it chose me."
"You know, some things defy explanation. One day I woke up and—bam—I had it…"
Peter offered an abstract excuse, yet it worked perfectly, snuffing out any desire Norman had to learn.
"Also, just so you know, this magic only dispels abnormal influences; it can't fix inborn defects.
In other words, I can't cure the genetic flaws you and Harry have; your DNA remains unchanged.
But as long as I'm around, you can keep working on the serum, and I'll make sure neither of you ever suffers its side effects.
Even if you never finish the serum, I can keep you both healthy and let you live long, long lives."
Though a flicker of disappointment crossed Norman's mind, he tossed it aside and looked at Peter with heartfelt gratitude.
"That's more than enough—truly! I don't even know how to repay you."
Then, as though suddenly remembering something, he turned solemn.
"Right, Peter, there's something important: what you did at school… has probably drawn the attention of certain… special departments."