I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 58: The Lizard (Patreon)

Connors stared at the vial of green serum in his hand.

He had developed the experimental compound himself. Only four doses existed, and producing them had cost a fortune. They were meant for animal testing.

First he'd test it on mice. Or perhaps he could skip straight to monkeys...

No. There was no time. Connors knew how swiftly Norma made decisions. She had built her business from nothing and hadn't reached the top by hesitating.

Oscorp also owned plenty of other laboratories, many of which had produced impressive results. His biology lab barely registered beside them.

Connors looked down at the vial again and drew a long breath.

All the data gathered so far was promising. In theory, the serum should work in humans. But no human trials had been conducted.

He was running out of time.

He fitted a needle to the syringe and took another deep breath.

“Dr. Connors?” Peter poked his head through the doorway.

“Ah! Peter?” Connors hastily hid the serum in his desk drawer. “Can I help you?”

“Nothing in particular. I was worried about you, Doctor. I saw that your conversation with Norma didn't go well.”

“It's nothing serious. And it isn't something you need to concern yourself with.”

“Maybe Harley and I could help? Norma might be willing to hear us out.”

“What could you possibly do?” Connors asked with a strained smile. They were just children.

“Gwen's working here, remember? She's our friend. If there's a problem, we can try to figure something out together.” Peter looked at him. “You can't always solve everything on your own, Doctor.”

“Well...”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing much. They're shutting the lab down.” Connors paused. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Gwen or Mobius. Neither of them... would want things to end like this.”

“Why are they closing it?”

“We haven't delivered any results, Peter. It's taken too long. Nobody believes we'll succeed anymore.”

“How far has the research progressed?”

“We've reached the mouse-testing stage.”

“And how much longer until it's complete?”

“A year, maybe? Perhaps longer.” Connors rubbed his aching head. “I don't expect to finish it anymore. But thank you for caring, Peter.”

“All right. Just... please don't do anything reckless. There has to be another way.”

“You should go now, Peter. I still have things to take care of.”

Peter reluctantly left the office.

All he wanted was for Connors to think things through instead of turning himself into the Lizard. But what could Peter do? He was only a high school student.

After lingering outside for a moment, he suddenly pushed the door open again.

“Dr. Connors! You're going to turn into a giant lizard!”

Connors wasn't injecting anything. He was writing at his desk.

“Uh... Peter?”

“Sorry, Doctor. I was just worried you might... test the serum on yourself. You know how dangerous that would be, right?”

Connors paused. “Don't worry, Peter. I won't. I know my limits. Once Norma closes the laboratory, I'll see if another organization is interested in taking over the project.”

“If that's really your plan, I'm glad.”

“You're a good kid, Peter.”

“Take care of yourself, Dr. Connors. Tomorrow will be better.”

“Yes. Tomorrow will be better.” Connors even managed a smile. He waited until Peter had left, then went over and locked the door.

Afterward, he returned to the two recommendation letters he had been writing.

One was for Gwen and the other for Mobius. He intended to recommend them to Dr. Otto, an old friend who also taught at a university. Otto's success with neurally controlled mechanical prosthetics had sent his career soaring. Gwen and Mobius would have a brighter future working under him.

As for Connors himself...

He folded the letters, set them on his desk, and retrieved the syringe from the drawer.

That serum represented more than a decade of painstaking research. More than a decade of his life.

He knew why Peter was worried. He was grateful for the boy's kindness, too.

And yes, he could walk away. He could return to teaching and spend his remaining years in peace. Before long, he might even be able to replace his missing hand with one of the prosthetics his friend had developed.

But he couldn't bear it.

He had poured everything he had into this research. Now a few casual sentences from Norma had dismissed all his efforts as worthless.

He understood her reasoning. He simply couldn't accept it.

“Peter, you're right. Tomorrow will be better. But I can't abandon everything I've done until now...”

Connors plunged the needle into his body. The sharp pain made him hiss through his teeth.

Then came a series of cracks from the stump of his missing arm.

“Aaagh!”

Bones pushed out from the stump, growing like those of an infant. A covering of thin, almost transparent skin followed. A tiny hand formed at the end, then gradually expanded until it was roughly the size of his healthy one.

“Hah... hah...” Connors gasped as he stared at the hand that had just grown back. He spread his fingers, closed them into a fist, and repeated the motion several times before the shock gave way to joy.

“It worked! It actually worked! Hahaha!”

His laughter filled the office. With undeniable evidence like this, surely the laboratory could stay open.

He could keep improving the treatment, drive down the cost, make it available to ordinary families, and rescue countless people from disease.

He would be a hero!

Overwhelmed by relief and excitement, Connors collapsed into his chair and kept admiring the new hand.

“Martha! I have to call Martha and tell her!” he exclaimed. “Tonight I'll finally be able to hold my bowl with both hands!”

Grinning, he dialed his wife's number. The line rang unanswered. Perhaps Martha was busy with housework.

While he waited for her to pick up, Connors continued studying his restored arm. He couldn't seem to look away.

Then a faint green tint appeared on the skin.

His smile froze.

The skin began to harden and peel. Patches of green scales emerged beneath it, spreading rapidly along his arm.

“Hello? Curt, is that you?” came a voice through the phone.

“I... ah...”

The scales were creeping toward his shoulder. Connors stared in horror and dropped the phone. Only then did he notice that his other hand was beginning to change as well.

“Aaaaaah!”

“Curt? Curt!” Martha's frightened voice called from the phone on the floor.