"Mr. Osborn… don't worry. I'll help Harry take control of the company."
Standing beside Harry at the bedside, Peter spoke calmly.
On the hospital bed, Norman Osborn looked at him—relief and satisfaction flickering in his fading eyes.
Then—
He exhaled his final breath.
…
In just a few short months, Peter had risen at an astonishing speed.
Using his identity as Harry's close friend—and relying on both his own abilities and… certain other methods—he had won over everyone within Oscorp, from top executives to core researchers.
And before his death—
Norman Osborn, the man who would have become the Green Goblin, entrusted him with everything.
With 15% of Oscorp's shares, Norman personally appointed Peter as the company's CEO.
In just over three months—
Peter had gone from an ordinary nobody…
To a business tycoon worth tens of millions.
…
Beside him, Harry stood in silence.
The would-be "second Green Goblin" was still drowning in grief, unable to pull himself out.
Part of it was emotional.
But more terrifying—
Was physical.
The Osborn family's hereditary disease had already begun to manifest in him.
His life—
Had entered a countdown.
"Harry," Peter said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I've arranged the funeral."
"But right now, the company needs attention. I'll come back later."
After comforting him for a while—and quietly planting a subtle mental suggestion—
Peter turned and left.
From this day forward—
Harry Osborn would sink into a life of indulgence.
Alcohol.
Pleasure.
Decay.
He would waste away in a haze of excess.
Of course—
Peter wasn't heartless.
He would cure him.
Eventually.
And in return—
Oscorp would be his compensation.
…
Back at the company, Peter headed straight for the laboratory.
There, he found Dr. Curt Connors.
The Lizard…
Had never been born.
Not only because Norman had died earlier than expected—
But because the key to Connors' research—the cross-species genetic transfer technology he had developed alongside Peter's father, Richard Parker—
Had always been in Peter's possession.
The missing piece—
The decay rate algorithm—
Had been hidden by Richard.
Without it, Connors' decades of research had been stuck at a bottleneck.
But now—
That changed.
When Connors learned of Norman's death, he froze for a moment.
There was regret in his eyes.
After all, Norman had funded his research for years—he was more than a sponsor.
He was a benefactor.
But the moment Peter handed him the decay rate algorithm—
Everything else became irrelevant.
Shock.
Disbelief.
Obsession.
And then—
Evolution.
With Peter's knowledge—enhanced and refined by the Infinite Multiverse Altar System—the technology underwent rapid improvement.
The two of them locked themselves in the lab.
For three days.
Three nights.
Without rest.
When they finally emerged—
Oscorp's biological laboratories began expanding at an unprecedented scale.
At Norman Osborn's funeral—
Peter attended.
Watching as the man was laid to rest beneath the earth.
Nearby, Harry stood in a daze, reeking of alcohol, barely conscious.
Peter glanced at him—
And nodded slightly.
Satisfied.
Only after the ceremony ended did Peter step forward, supporting Harry—the nominal chairman of Oscorp.
"Harry," he said, his voice steady, "Mr. Osborn's passing is a huge loss."
"But in my opinion…"
"It's also an opportunity."
"If the company wants to grow—truly grow—it needs to leave the past behind."
He paused, then continued,
"To restore investor confidence… to show the world our determination…"
"I propose we change the company's name."
…
In his current state—
Harry Osborn had no objections.
"…Do whatever you think is best," he muttered.
Soon, the documents were placed before him.
He didn't even look at them.
A careless signature—
And it was done.
The papers were handed to Peter's secretary.
And Harry returned to drowning himself in oblivion.
Just like that—
Oscorp became history.
The family empire built by Norman Osborn…
Vanished.
Reduced to dust.
And in its place—
A new giant rose.
A corporation worth hundreds of billions.
A name that would soon shake the world—
Umbrella.
After the rebranding, Peter wasted no time.
A global press conference was announced.
And with it—
The unveiling of Umbrella's first products.
The Red Devil Series Powered Armor.
Equipped with individual glider flight systems—designed for low-altitude combat and urban tactical operations.
Cross-Species Genetic Medical Technology — Phase One:
Limb Regeneration.
The world exploded.
The red-and-white umbrella logo.
The young man standing before the cameras.
And the words he spoke—
Echoed across the globe.
"This technology has already entered the laboratory stage," Peter said calmly.
"We are now opening applications to the public."
"One hundred volunteers will be selected to experience this treatment in advance."
"And all experimental data…"
"…will be made fully transparent to the world."
…
Behind him—
Stood Uncle Ben.
Now appointed as the chief engineer of the Red Devil powered armor project.
His face was filled with pride.
His boy—
Had finally grown up.
…
To the world—
The powered armor technology alone was already groundbreaking.
Though it didn't quite match Stark Industries' Iron Man suits, its significantly lower cost made it far more practical.
Mass production.
Military deployment.
Police applications.
It was enough to stabilize Umbrella's stock price, which had plummeted after Norman's death and the company's rebranding.
But then—
Came the second technology.
Limb regeneration.
And everything changed.
Umbrella's valuation skyrocketed to unimaginable heights.
Because if this technology proved real—
If those one hundred volunteers truly regained their limbs—
Then Umbrella would surpass Stark Industries.
And become—
The most valuable company in the world.
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T/N:
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