Connors seemed to have exhausted all his strength, a frail researcher, who no longer had the energy to sit up.
He lay in the center of the pit, his voice coarse: "I've told you this story before, but you didn't seem to listen carefully..."
"I was a Captain, followed the combat troops to the war, although I was just a military doctor with them, I held on for a full sixty-three hours in the area where the gunfire was the fiercest..."
"For this, I lost an arm and almost all my comrades..."
"We obeyed their orders, stood our ground, out of our squad of 32, only six survived. I lost an arm, some lost both their legs, but we all came back alive..."
"Compensation...oh, yes... Of course, there was compensation. They gave us health checks, let us stay in a hospital for some time, gave us some money, and then, there was nothing more..."
"No one cares about the difficulties you face living as a disabled person, nobody cares about your dilemma because you can't even open a can after paying a price of losing an arm..."
"And no one cares about the sympathetic looks from others, or their impatient attitude when you can't pick up things..."
"I just wanted to change all of this, I just wanted to change all of this..."
Peter felt suffocated, complex emotions were surging in his chest. He took off his mask and began to breathe heavily.
His eyes were red, he said: "You have changed everything! We were almost successful. The recovery serum was indeed effective..."
"Yeah, so close. I thought we were so close, but then I realized, the distance is perhaps a high wall that can never be crossed..."
Doctor Connors's throat moved slower and slower, he said: "Like rats, we were driven away, none cared that our research could bring a significant change to the scum at the bottom of society..."
"Even if we were one minute away from success, we were also driven away."
He turned his head, his somewhat lifeless eyes looked at Stark, he said: "Driven away by these devils who only care about their own benefits..."
"That's not true, that's not true!" Peter half-kneeled beside him and said, "There's a misunderstanding here, I think I can..."
Peter's voice abruptly stopped, he took a deep breath, then covered his face, his breathing began to uncontrollably tremble. When he realized that Doctor Connors began to gradually lose consciousness, he completely fell apart.
"No, wait... Doctor Connors! Doctor Connors! Hold on a little longer, we will save you..."
Peter didn't know how he could say such words, obviously just ten minutes ago, he couldn't wait to eliminate this monster.
What's clear now is that Stark was under pressure from the military. He terminated the medical technology research cooperation with the military, making the super-speed recovery serum project that Doctor Connors was conducting fail.
Thus, he became a giant lizard monster, intending to take revenge on Stark.
Peter suddenly thought, since this lizard monster is Doctor Connors, then the stronghold he destroyed back then, could it be the place where Doctor Connors carried out his final research?
Did the serum failed because he destroyed the stronghold? Was that why Doctor Connors turned into this kind of monster?
A feeling of suffocation overcame Peter, why was this happening? Why was this happening? He just wanted to do good!
This intense feeling of helplessness was a pain Peter had never experienced before.
Doctor Connors was a good person, he and his comrades had sacrificed for their country. Even after facing unfair treatment, he still participated in scientific research actively, hoping to use his intelligence to improve these people's lives.
But Mr. Stark was also a good person, the wrong of terminating the medical project cooperation was not entirely his fault. He defeated this lizard monster and saved the others in New York.
Peter felt he was a good person too. He took action the moment he saw a potentially dangerous situation.
But now, Doctor Connors lay in the pit, his body covered in blood, his life hanging in the balance. Stark stood silent, treating the situation as a direct confront of his crime, suffering for it.
Peter felt a great pain, even worse than when a sharp blade cut through his chest.
The teacher who had taught her methodically on his academic journey, and his mentor who provided him with the battlesuit and taught him various knowledge, they were at war with each other.
Peter didn't know who to help, this was like a two-edged sword held by him, piercing their chests at the same time, his tears had almost soaked the collar of his Spider-Man suit.
Peter stood up, facing another sunset. He suddenly remembered Shiller's words, that there was no black or white, just a vague gray mist.
This was the harsh reality of the world, he could not always stand on the side of justice like he thought.
Now he finally understood, the saddest thing in the world isn't when the good guys are knocked down by the bad guys, but when a good guy is knocked down by another good guy.
There is no winner in this war between good guys.
"I'm a doctor, not God."
Strange, with his hands on his hips, said at the doorway of the operating room, "And I'm a neurologist. I can't cure all diseases. You can't expect me to treat all sorts of patients!"
"So how is Doctor Connors?"
"I don't know. You need to ask the instruments that examined him. I can't fully understand their data."
Then, Strange saw Shiller, Stark, and Peter looking at him with patronizing eyes. He exploded, yelling, "What do you think a doctor is? A wish machine? You bring all sorts of sick people to me, expecting me to cure them instantly. If I can't, are you going to criticize my professional skills?"
Shiller said, "Alright, even if you can't cure him, you should at least introduce us to someone who can, right?"
Strange rolled his eyes and said, "Given his current condition, you might as well pray to God."
"I hope you can save him, and I'm willing to pay a lot of money for that," Stark said.
"All you can think of is money? I know you're rich, but not all the problems in this world can be solved with money. What can I do when you brought a nearly dead body here?"
"Listen, you better..."
Stark took a step forward and pointed at Strange's shoulder, his tone was confrontational. Strange, unpleased, pushed Stark away and said, "Ha, do you think everyone is your lapdog for your wealth?"
As Strange said these words, he glanced at Shiller. Before Shiller could react, Stark erupted and punched Strange. Peter quickly rushed to hold him back.
"Hey, calm down, Mr. Stark! Calm down!"
Strange bent over from the punch, touched his nose and found blood on his hand. He muttered a curse. Shiller immediately grabbed his shoulder and dragged him away.
Strange didn't want to leave, but Shiller was too strong. He was dragged out of the corridor. As soon as they turned the corner, Strange yelled, "What are you doing? Do you think I couldn't fight that damned arms dealer?"
"Can't you see he's not acting normal? Do you want to box a madman here?"
Strange, holding his breath, sat down on a chair next to the hospital corridor and said, "I just don't understand why you guys are around to trouble an ordinary man. You either have money or some cunning tricks. Why do you have to intervene in my life?"
Shiller opened his mouth, but didn't speak out. How could he tell Strange that someone was staring intently at his arm?
On the other side, Peter was trying to soothe Stark. He thought Stark was a bit too volatile, which was unlike him.
Although Stark can sometimes be extravagant and sarcastic, his temper was manageable. He didn't explode easily and was mostly able to communicate calmly. But now, for some reason, Stark seemed very volatile.
Peter grabbed one of Stark's arms, trying to turn him around. Stark sneered and swiped his arm hard. Peter was surprisingly pushed away.
Peter was shocked and stared at Stark's arm. Even without exerting much strength, he was stronger than an ordinary person. Stark, without the Iron Man suit, should be just an ordinary human, how could he push away Spider-Man, who has Spider Mutation Power?
Peter was a little confused, but he thought Stark was acting very strange.
He took a few steps back and saw Shiller beckoning him from the corner. Peter glanced back at Stark, and then decided to run towards Shiller.
Stark stood in the same place, shaking his head violently and talking to the air every now and then as if he was having a conversation with it.
After Peter ran over, he asked Shiller, "What's going on? Is Mr. Stark sick?"
"This proves one thing," Shiller said, "Alcohol can turn people into a mess."
Leaving the hospital, Stark didn't even call for his suit. He gritted his teeth and muttered, "Damn it! You can't do that! Peter is just a kid!"
"Let me eat his head. It will be so delicious, you are going to love that feeling..." A deep, hoarse voice echoed in the void.
Stark said, "Listen, you piece of crap, if you dare to control my body again, I'll have Jarvis pummel you into flour with a 500-decibel sonic cannon!"
This story actually dates back to a few days ago.
Ever since Obadiah had fallen into an unceasing coma, the weapons manufacturing department of Stark Industries had remained almost stagnant. Even though Stark did not understand these business matters, he realised that it was actually Uncle Obadiah who had formed the backbone in bringing Stark Industries to where it stood today.
Without Obadiah, a barrage of troubles had come in succession.
Originally, Obadiah had skillfully manoeuvred between the military, Congress and other arms dealers, not letting anyone take advantage of a single cent, even the military.
But without Obadiah now, Pepper was able to handle certain business matters, but she was not particularly sensitive to political gameplay. Stark was even more clueless about this.
He suddenly realised that he had actually always existed in a kind of vacuum, where he simply needed to stay in his lab and work on his inventions every day, unaffected by the uncertainties and conflicts in the outside world.
But now that Obadiah was gone, Stark was forced to confront all of this on his own.
Doubtlessly, Stark had a genius mind. However, that mind of his never quite inclined towards such matters. Pressured by the military, he was short on choices.
In the beginning, he couldn't fully grasp the intricacies between the rival factions. Despite his intellect which would eventually guide him, initially, he was all over the place.
Choosing their moment, the military decisively launched a media offensive, forcing Stark Industries into a disadvantageous position, front and centre.
Stark was under immense pressure, a kind vastly different compared to unsuccessful experiments or skidding invention developments. He couldn't even vent his frustrations and relapsed into smoking and alcoholism.
All sorts of extreme emotions piled up within his mind, attracting the attention of a homeless outcast.
That was Venom, the first symbiote that split from its mother, the genius child of the symbionts.
It was common knowledge that this species was attracted by intense human emotions. Venom initially inhabited a regular reporter who had just gone through a divorce. But during an interview with Stark, it found the man's strong emotions and the captivating allure in his mind irresistible.
So, this audacious symbiote seized the opportunity when the reporter thrust a microphone towards Stark's face, quickly detached from its previous host, and shifted onto Stark.
Initially, Stark didn't notice anything suspicious. Venom, an experienced symbiote, lay low for a while after it chose a host to prevent provoking strong resistance from them.
But soon, Stark started sensing that something was off. He was no ordinary person—he was cursed with a brain overwhelmed with knowledge. He acutely felt his intense negative emotions being led on, driving him to numb himself with alcohol to ensure none of these emotions hurt anyone else.
Jarvis, using subtle hints drawn from data, reminded his master that his psychological state and character were starting to waver, suggesting Stark was in an odd, induced state of mind.
This state did not last long.
When the Lizard invaded Stark Building, Jarvis had to use emergency waking measures to wake Stark, who was hung over from the night before. However, it was not Jarvis that woke Stark but Venom, the symbiote within his body, screeching due to the huge sonic waves.
Only then did Stark realize that his feeling of being controlled had been due to an enigmatic alien creature inhabiting his body.
The sonic waves that Jarvis played caused Venom to rampantly scurry inside Stark's body, revealing its true form to Stark—an amorphous clump of black mud.
Then, to his surprise, he found out this alien embodied intelligence not inferior to humans. It could communicate with him and even claimed to possess all his memories and personality traits.
Indeed, this was exactly how Venom spoke—all the hosts were told the same thing. Because it helped to assuage their suspicions, Venom emphasized its nature of coexistence and harmony.
And to some extent, it spoke the truth. They were an innocent race, naturally born as a tabula rasa. Although they appeared repugnant, sticky and gooey, they were not an evil race in the comic books.
Rather, they were an "inert species" and couldn't strongly devour nor erase the personality of its host. They preferred to parasitize in a gentler way, behaving more like a comrade than enforcing a dominance-submission relationship.
Many symbionts were scattered across the cosmos, parasitizing various species. They enhanced their hosts' physical strength, usually choosing host races with high intelligence.
This was due to their need for a host's independent personality, which supplied the emotional energy for their survival. They didn't turn smart hosts into thoughtless zombies like some other evil parasitic species. Symbionts couldn't do that; after all, if their hosts couldn't think, they wouldn't eat.
Very well aware of this, Venom knew it must win its host's trust. Otherwise, it would have to roam around hungry every day.
To Venom, Stark seemed like the perfect meal ticket. With his emotions fluctuating daily during his lowest point, Venom was continually charged with energy.
But it didn't take long for Venom to realise that finding a stable source of sustenance wasn't as simple as it thought.