BOOM!!!
Norman Osborn's brain stalled for the second time. If seeing the school restored had shattered his worldview, then seeing Peter's face made him question if he had even woken up. Was this some absurd, vivid nightmare?
The "Arbiter"... was Peter Parker?!
The straight-A student, the slightly introverted best friend of his own son? The genius high schooler who had helped Dr. Connors complete the Decay Rate Algorithm?
In an instant, a thousand disparate threads tangled in his mind and snapped into a single picture. Norman blurted out instinctively:
"If the Arbiter is Peter, then Ghost-Spider must be..."
Norman suddenly remembered Harry mentioning that Peter's childhood friend was Gwen Stacy—and that the girl was Dr. Connors' assistant!
"Gwen Stacy?!"
Was the world truly this small? He subconsciously felt the conclusion was too ridiculous to be true, but just as he was about to dismiss it as a joke, he noticed the smile vanish from Peter's face.
The boy he had once viewed as a nephew looked at him coldly. A faint, needle-like killing intent instantly saturated the study.
"Green Goblin, you know too much."
Peter walked toward Norman, his voice dropping to a chilling register. "For Harry's sake... and for Gwen's... it seems I have no choice but to... silence the witness."
The moment those words hit, a wave of frost shot from the soles of Norman's feet to the top of his skull!
You and your big mouth! Norman wanted to slap himself. Even if he'd guessed it, why did he have to say it out loud?
Panic flared, and Norman instinctively opened his mouth to beg for mercy. But before he could utter a sound, a hand pressed against his chest with lightning speed.
It's over. I'm dead.
Norman squeezed his eyes shut in despair. One second passed. Two seconds. Ten.
He felt no agonizing pain. Instead, a warm, peaceful energy teeming with life flooded his limbs and bones!
Hum!
Norman felt as though his entire being was being soaked in a primordial spring. His body, which had felt like it was about to crack at the seams, was being meticulously stitched back together. Inside his mind, the manic, violent persona calling itself the "Green Goblin" let out a series of unwilling roars.
In the face of this strange power, it was like snow meeting a midday sun—quietly melting away until it vanished into nothingness.
A few seconds later, the light faded. Peter withdrew his hand. Norman trembled, slowly opening his eyes.
He stared at his hands in disbelief; he felt reborn. His body was comfortable in a way it had never been, and his mind was incredibly tranquil, as if he had undergone a sacred baptism from the inside out.
Only now did he realize what Peter meant by "silencing the witness"—he had silenced the Goblin inside him.
An indescribable surge of gratitude and guilt overwhelmed Norman. This boy hadn't just saved his life; he had used this method to pull himself back from the edge of darkness.
"Peter... I..."
Norman Osborn's voice cracked. This man, who controlled hundreds of billions of dollars and could make Wall Street tremble with a single word, was on the verge of tears.
"Don't get too emotional, Uncle Norman. It's what I should do—Harry is my best friend, after all."
Peter's tone remained casual, as if he had performed a minor chore. He turned and applied the same technique to the unconscious Dr. Connors.
A flash of white light later, the terrifying scales and mutations on the Lizard receded. His injuries healed rapidly, and his missing right arm began to regrow at a visible rate.
Norman watched, stunned. "Peter, what is this power?"
"Emmm, you can think of it as my... magic?"
Norman smacked his lips, subconsciously savoring the lingering sensation of that energy. It was the kind of wondrous feeling that made it hard for a man not to feel a twinge of greed—a desire to possess it.
But just as he realized he was thinking of betraying his benefactor and began to condemn himself, he felt a gaze land on him. He looked up to find Peter watching him with a knowing, playful smirk.
"Uncle Norman, what are you thinking about?"
That single look sent a chill down Norman's spine, instantly vaporizing any "rebellious" or suicidal thoughts of greed. Forget it! This wasn't a power he could ever control. It belonged to Peter alone.
"I... I was just curious. How did you... Get this ability?" Norman couldn't help but pry. He had watched this boy grow up, yet he had never sensed such talent.
"Actually, I don't know. It chose me. You know, some things can't be explained by logic. I just woke up one day and suddenly had it."
Peter's explanation was abstract, but it worked perfectly, immediately discouraging Norman from trying to "learn" it.
"Also, a quick heads-up: the effect of my magic can only dispel abnormal influences on a person, but it doesn't change innate defects.
In other words, I haven't 'cured' your and Harry's genetic disease. Your DNA hasn't been rewritten.
But as long as I'm around, you can continue your serum research, and I can ensure you're never affected by side effects.
Even if you never finish the research, I can make sure you never fall ill and live a long, healthy life."
Norman felt a small pang of disappointment, but he quickly tossed it aside. He looked at Peter with a gaze full of fatherly affection and gratitude.
"That's enough! Truly, it's more than enough! I honestly don't know how to repay you!"
Then, Norman suddenly remembered something important. His expression turned grave.
"Wait, Peter. I just realized something critical. What you did at the school... I'm afraid it has already attracted the attention of some... very specific government departments!"
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