"Are the preparations complete?"
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows, Peter gazed at the rising sun on the horizon and spoke in a low, composed voice.
He had changed.
Completely.
Gone was the awkward, poorly dressed high schooler who kept his head down and avoided attention. In his place stood a man refined and commanding—his posture straight, his tailored suit impeccably fitted, his polished shoes gleaming under the morning light.
His hair had been carefully styled, accentuating the sharp lines of his face. Behind those deep, steady eyes lay a level of intelligence that was almost unsettling.
If any of his former classmates from Midtown High had seen him now…
They wouldn't have believed this was Peter Parker.
Even Uncle Ben and Aunt May—who had watched him grow up—couldn't deny the transformation.
Of course, they themselves had changed as well.
Peter had never been stingy with those closest to him. With a perfected, side-effect-free version of the NZT serum, he had elevated Ben's cognitive abilities to near-genius levels. And with two biological enhancement agents derived from the real Umbrella Corporation, he had restored both Ben and May to their youthful prime.
Now, Aunt May served as the head nurse of Umbrella's private hospital, while Uncle Ben had become the head of engineering—effectively the company's second-in-command.
…
Peter's gaze lingered on the sunrise.
One of the great advantages of the East Coast was this view—the birth of a new day, filled with vitality and promise. Compared to the fading glow of a West Coast sunset, he preferred this.
Beginnings.
Growth.
Possibility.
"…Hmm?"
When no response came, Peter turned his head.
Beside him stood a stunning woman in professional attire, her eyes fixed on him in a daze. There was admiration in her gaze—unhidden, almost starstruck.
"Hey. Wake up."
He tapped her lightly on the forehead, then tilted her chin upward, leaning in just slightly.
"I'm starting to question your reasons for insisting on becoming my assistant," he said with a faint smirk. "But I should warn you—your boss only pays in money. My body isn't part of the deal."
Felicia's cheeks flushed as she brushed his hand away, shooting him a playful glare.
"Maybe you're just too attractive," she replied, her tone light but her composure quickly returning.
Internally, however, her thoughts were far less controlled.
A rising star on Wall Street, she had received multiple offers with seven-figure salaries straight out of graduation. Yet here she was—standing beside him, willingly stepping into his orbit.
Clearing her throat, she regained her professional tone.
"Everything is ready," she said. "Honestly, I have to admit—I'm impressed. How did you even come up with this plan? Using him to turn public opinion around…"
There was genuine admiration in her voice.
The entire strategy had been flawless.
At the moment of Norman Osborn's death, Peter had manipulated uncertainty and greed, using the ambiguity surrounding the serum to push shareholders into panic-selling. Then, at the critical moment, he would reveal undeniable proof—Hawking himself—as the ultimate validation.
No matter how sharp someone was, they wouldn't see through it.
Peter had spent months carefully building his image—earning trust, establishing credibility. Then Norman's death introduced doubt. With just a little push, those greedy investors—watching their wealth shrink day by day—walked exactly where Peter wanted them to.
Once they sold—
He bought everything back.
And then—
He would reveal the truth.
In just three days, with only three doses of serum, Peter had extracted over a hundred billion dollars from the market and those fleeing shareholders.
"Save the flattery," Peter said with a dismissive shrug. "I don't care for it. There's nothing extraordinary about this."
He paused slightly.
"It's just human nature."
Greed.
Suspicion.
Fear of loss.
Those were the levers he had pulled.
No matter what they claimed publicly, those shareholders had never truly trusted him—a teenage CEO, no matter how capable. Norman's death only deepened their doubts.
And once doubt took root—
The outcome was inevitable.
-----
Inside the grand lobby of Umbrella's headquarters—formerly Oscorp Tower—
A press conference was about to begin.
One that had captured the attention of the entire world.
Or perhaps more accurately—
One that had made countless people grind their teeth in frustration.
Just three days ago, the world had believed.
Believed that their diseases could be cured.
Believed that a new era of medicine had arrived.
Investors who had bought Umbrella stock had been swept up in euphoria, watching their wealth skyrocket.
For an entire week, every newspaper, every media outlet had praised Umbrella endlessly.
The Light of a New Era.
The Greatest Medical Breakthrough of the 21st Century.
Some had even suggested that Peter deserved a Nobel Prize in Medicine.
And then—
Overnight—
Everything collapsed.
Umbrella fell from heaven to hell.
The higher it had risen—
The harder it crashed.
Stock prices that had taken a week to climb…
Collapsed in a single day.
And over the next three days—
Plunged to the very bottom.
…
Now—
Standing before a sea of reporters, cameras flashing, tension thick in the air—
Peter stepped onto the stage.
"I know many of you have questions," he began calmly, his voice carrying effortlessly through the hall. "Some of you are angry. Some of you want to insult me… perhaps even hit me."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"You believe I deceived you. That I gave countless people hope—only to take it away overnight."
He paused.
"In the past three days, neither I nor Umbrella have made any statements."
The room fell silent.
Every eye was on him.
"And now…"
Peter's gaze swept across the crowd.
Cold. Unshaken.
"I suggest you take back your insults."
His voice hardened.
"Then kneel—"
"And thank God."
A beat.
"Because I…"
A faint smile returned, sharp as a blade.
"Have come to save you."
--------------
T/N:
Support the Story and Read Chapters in Advance early on P@treon:👉[email protected]/MPHFics