If the Osborn family's genetic disease wasn't a disease but a demonic curse, then everything would make sense.
Harry used the spider serum to cure his illness.
The demon, hiding in the shadows and cursing, was not pleased. That very night, it cursed again, leaving no room for doubt, taking Harry away in one fell swoop.
The more Gwen thought about it, the more she felt the possibility of a demon was greater. Her eyes lit up as she looked at Hawke.
"What do we do next?"
"Next…"
Hawke looked at Gwen, who seemed to be enjoying the drama, smiled slightly, paused, and then, under Gwen's somewhat expectant gaze, said, "I'll take you home, then I'll go home too, and we'll both sleep."
Gwen's pretty face fell.
"Hawke."
"That's a demon. I haven't even found the entrance to Hell yet. Do you think I can find this demon that has probably already returned to Hell?"
Hawke shook his head, a little helpless.
Right after the funeral, he had specifically activated all five of his senses, wondering if he could find the demon hiding in the shadows.
If he was lucky, he might even learn the entrance to the Hell dimension on Earth from this demon.
At that time, after getting the Reality Stone, he wouldn't linger but would go straight to Hell.
Then…
He would try to bring his sister Anya back to Earth for Christmas.
But the power was abundant, and the reality was stark.
He didn't see the demon at the funeral. If the Osborn family's curse was truly the work of a demon, now that Harry had died, the Osborn lineage was considered extinct. If nothing unexpected happened, the demon had probably already returned to Hell.
He just didn't know what Osborn had done to attract a demonic curse.
Hawke thought to himself.
After taking Gwen home, he returned to Palm Street. After taking a shower, he didn't go to bed to rest. Instead, he went to the study, turned on the computer the previous owner had left behind, and, thinking about the Osborn curse, began searching for information online.
The Osborn family's rise to prominence was very clear.
Norman Osborn sold his family's herring canning production line and converted it into a military production line, then quickly grew wealthy under the dividends of war.
At that time, Norman Osborn already had the family genetic disease.
So…
It should have been something from even earlier.
But online, there was almost no information, or rather, very little, about the Osborn family before Norman Osborn.
After a fruitless search, Hawke stroked his chin, thought for a moment, took out his phone, and directly found the third number in his contacts, which was Peter's number, and dialed it.
The call connected quickly.
"Hello?"
"The Osborn family isn't from New York, are they?"
"That's right… Hiss, don't move!"
"…"
Hawke listened to the commotion on the other end of the phone and subconsciously glanced at the time in the lower right corner of his computer screen: "It's eleven o'clock, still out?"
Peter on the other end of the phone said, "I went back, but it felt a little strange, so I just came out to exercise."
Hawke responded casually and then brought the conversation back.
"Where did the Osborn family migrate from?"
"London."
Peter fired another web, sealing a late-night robber against the wall, while talking on the phone with Hawke: "The Osborn family's old home is in London. Otherwise, why would Harry have gone to London to study?"
London?
Not Texas, where demons are most rampant.
Hawke thought to himself.
"Do you know exactly when the Osborn family's genetic disease appeared?"
"Genetic… Why are you asking this?"
"Can't sleep."
"Alright."
Peter heard the reason Hawke gave, which was irrefutable, and after saying so, frowned: "Harry didn't seem to say exactly when it started, but I heard Harry say that when their family moved from Massachusetts to New York City, family members started showing symptoms one after another."
Hawke raised an eyebrow.
"Wait a minute, Massachusetts? Didn't you say their family moved from London?"
"The Osborns were among the first people on the Mayflower back then, and their landing point was Massachusetts."
Peter explained, then thought for a moment: "I remember Harry saying where they settled at the time. Oh, right, Salem. Yes, I remember because I specifically looked it up when I went back that time. The Osborns moved to New York City after the Salem tragedy happened."
The Salem tragedy?
The Salem Witch tragedy!
Hawke's sword-like brows furrowed. He suddenly had a feeling that he had likely found the reason why the Osborns were cursed by a demon.
However…
He needed to verify it.
Hawke thought to himself, put down the phone, and began searching online for information related to the Salem Witch tragedy.
The Mayflower landed in Massachusetts in 1620.
And the Salem tragedy occurred in 1692.
These tragedies shocked the entire Federation. At the time, there were records of nineteen Witches being killed, and countless more unrecorded Witches.
As the first Witch case in the Federation, the Salem tragedy was much more popular online than the Osborn family.
Almost every year, curious netizens provide the latest discovered clues and news about the Salem Witch case.
So…
Hawke didn't have to work hard. Through an online forum dedicated to discussing the Salem Witch case, he found a familiar surname in a yellowed scanned document in just a short while.
On April 22, 1692, Hathorne and Osborn personally interrogated the accusations against twelve Witches. In the end, Osborn only withdrew the accusation against one Witch and executed the rest by Fire.
In plain language…
It meant tying these eleven Witches to a stake, then setting them on Fire, burning them alive.
Hiss!
Hawke felt he had found the evidence.
Just then.
"Honey, thank…"
"What the hell!"
"Hawke, come quickly, under the Manhattan Bridge…"
"Beep beep!"
Hawke came back to his senses, looking at the phone that suddenly emitted Peter's voice and then disconnected. He raised an eyebrow, and the moment he stood up, he instantly walked out of the study.
Under the Manhattan Bridge.
Peter, dressed in a red and blue Spider-Man suit, was suspended in the air, his limbs spread as wide as possible, like a large character bound in mid-air.
His phone had fallen nearby.
Bound in the air, Peter's arms kept exerting force, his muscles tensed, trying to break free from the restraint.
But…
It was useless.
The uniform on Peter's arms had ripped, but he was still firmly bound in mid-air.
His eyes were wide, staring at the unscientific scene before him.
A Hell Witch, seemingly surrounded by blue Fire, extended her right hand towards Peter and slowly rotated it.
Peter, bound in mid-air, also rotated with the spinning hand.
The Hell Witch's voice was eerie.
"All who help Osborn must die."
"Is that so?"
Hawke's voice followed closely.
The Hell Witch's blue-flaming eyes suddenly narrowed, and her right hand immediately swung towards the source of the voice.
Boom!
Blue Fire exploded as Hawke's hand formed a fist.
Hawke then walked out of the exploding blue Fire.
Peter also landed on the ground with a thud, and without any hesitation, he shot out a web, then swiftly landed steadily beside Hawke.
"Hawke, what the hell is this thing?"
"A Salem Witch."
Hawke said, his gaze fixed on the Hell Witch in front of him, who was glowing with blue Fire: "We didn't know that Osborn was cursed by you, which is why he has the family disease. There's no need to attack us."
Peter, standing beside him, was a little confused.
Hawke then explained in short, that the Osborn's genetic disease was most likely the result of the Salem Witches cursing them after they burned the Salem Witches.
Peter was even more confused now.
"Salem Witches… Aren't they fake?"
"It's highly likely some were wrongly accused, but this one in front of us is definitely a real Witch."
And a powerful Witch at that.
After all…
A Witch who could escape from Hell to seek revenge must be extremely powerful.
Peter listened to Hawke's explanation, opened his mouth, but still didn't quite understand.
"Then why is he looking for me?"
"Your blood cured Harry, so the Witch is taking her anger out on you."
"Hiss!"
Peter gasped, then looked at the Hell Witch standing in front, unmoving, flickering with blue Fire, quietly watching them, recalling how he had been utterly helpless moments ago.
"How do we kill this thing?"
"You can't kill it."
"What?"
"Do you have magic attacks?"
"No."
"Then that's it."
With all five of Hawke's senses activated, he could easily see that the Hell Witch in front of him was in an incorporeal state. To be precise, the Hell Witch gave Hawke the feeling of a soul state pieced together, naturally immune to physical attacks.
As everyone knows.
Phoenix Illusion Demon Fist is not a magic attack, but a mental attack.
The most important point.
Putting on the Phoenix saint cloth just to deal with this Hell Witch who is only seeking revenge for herself?
Hawke couldn't do that.
Peter couldn't help but take another deep breath.
"Then what do we do?"
"Let's see if we can talk it out. A lean camel is still bigger than a horse. I remember Harry still had a few uncles, right?"
"Didn't you see them at the funeral? They were arguing loudly that the will was fake and were directly thrown out by Felicia."
If Harry hadn't left a will, logically, Harry's uncles would also have inheritance rights.
But Harry left a will, and Harry's uncles got nothing.
Capitalist society does not have a concept of humanitarianism or humanitarian compensation.
"As long as there are still people named Osborn."
Hawke said, then spoke to the blue-glowing Hell Witch in front of him: "We didn't know beforehand. Now that we do, we guarantee that we won't interfere with the remaining Osborns. You can continue your revenge; we won't know anything."
The blue light on the Hell Witch flickered eerily.
After a while.
Whoosh!
Under the Manhattan Bridge, the blue Fire light disappeared, and the Hell Witch also vanished.
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