I woke up—or rather, came to—in my own bed, and that was wonderful in the sense that I wasn't in a hospital and had regained consciousness at all. Given everything that had happened, I might not have woken up at all.
But judging by the IV drip inserted into my left arm, I hadn't been left without medical supervision either. I didn't think I'd have to wait long before Dr. Collins deigned to visit me. Moreover, I felt surprisingly well, and there was no particular weakness—though I didn't feel any special strength either.
I felt normal, though actually, no—the usual pain I had grown accustomed to was also gone. I could finally say "goodbye" to retroviral hyperplasia. And at that moment, when I remembered my illness, I instinctively looked at the nightstand where my medications usually stood. Instead, there was a newspaper, and I was very curious about the reason it was there.
Picking it up with the hand that had the IV, I discovered it was the latest issue of the Daily Bugle, dated... I didn't even know how many days I had been unconscious. But I didn't think it was more than a day.
On the front page was an image of Spider-Man and the headline: "Spider Threat Attacks Hero Who Saved the City." Hmm, interesting. What had they written there? The title alone was intriguing.
"Finally, Spider-Man has revealed his true nature. Yesterday, this so-called 'spider threat' attacked Norman Osborn, the well-known billionaire and philanthropist, who was peacefully flying home on his glider. And you, dear readers, are probably wondering: what business did Mr. Osborn have flying around?"
From reliable sources, we learned that Norman Osborn, at the request of the police, assisted in the apprehension of a criminal who called himself Hobgoblin (read more about him on page seven), and may have saved many lives in the process. The details are still unclear, but given that nuclear safety agents were spotted at the scene of the criminal's arrest, the criminal may have had access to radioactive materials. Who knows what he could have done with them? And after Norman Osborn, despite his illness—which he has been fighting for many years—personally neutralized the criminal, this spider menace dared to attack him.
How long will Spider-Man's rampage continue? Why is the police inactive? What should you do if Spider-Man appears nearby, and how can you avoid provoking him? All these questions will be addressed further in this article.
The rest of the article focused mainly on vilifying Spider-Man, portraying him as some kind of deranged individual. I particularly enjoyed the five tips on how not to provoke Spider-Man into attacking. Maybe if I had followed them, he wouldn't have attacked me. But of course, that was all a joke. What really struck me was that the Daily Bugle had portrayed me in a positive light, though I suspected that if Spider-Man hadn't attacked me, things would have been very different.
"Mr. Osborn, you've woken up," Dr. Collins said, a bit too cheerfully. It felt as if he had thought I might not wake up at all.
"How long was I unconscious?" I immediately asked the question that interested me.
"Almost two days," the doctor replied, simultaneously removing the IV needle from my vein.
"Hmm... So this is yesterday's newspaper. But that's not important. Doctor, tell me, how is my condition?" I asked, even holding my breath as I awaited the answer.
"I don't know what you did to your body, Dr. Osborn, but what's happening to it is not very natural. When you lost consciousness right at the entrance to your mansion the day before yesterday, I arrived within five minutes. At first, I thought the disease had entered its final stage, which we both feared so much, and that's why you lost consciousness. But after I took a quick blood test, I realized you were practically completely healthy, and even the chronic illnesses I had been monitoring for years had disappeared without a trace," Dr. Collins said, thoughtfully furrowing his brow. It seemed he couldn't quite understand what had happened to my body.
"If everything is so good with me, then why did I lose consciousness at all?" I asked him, deciding to get up from the bed and at least get dressed. After all, the only thing I was wearing was a blanket.
"Because your body was suffering from severe exhaustion, which I partially managed to correct by introducing the necessary microelements directly into your blood," he replied, pointing to the IV, which presumably contained the substances my body needed.
"And it seems that because of this exhaustion, I'm now ravenously hungry," I said, only now realizing how hungry I was.
"Yes, a hearty meal should greatly help your body recover. And, what exactly happened to you?" Dr. Collins showed unnecessary curiosity.
"What purpose do you have in asking?" I replied with a question of my own.
"Understand, if what happened to you can be repeated, it could cure thousands—no, even millions or billions of people around the world. The fact that you managed to get rid of all your illnesses is a real miracle," Dr. Collins said with unusual fervor.
"Dr. Collins, you're prying into what doesn't concern you. The drug I used on myself was developed by Oscorp in conjunction with the U.S. government, and I've signed numerous non-disclosure agreements. I don't even have the right to talk to you about it. Only out of great respect for you am I doing so. So let's agree that I found a cure for my retroviral hyperplasia and am now slowly recovering," I said in a very stern tone that brooked no argument.
"I understand, Mr. Osborn," Dr. Collins said quietly. "There won't be any problems with me."
"And, Doctor, if you start talking, the problems won't be yours—they'll be YOU," I said. Judging by how Dr. Collins even flinched at my words, I was very convincing.
"Well, now that we've dealt with my health, I need to have a little breakfast... lunch... dinner... it doesn't matter. The main thing is to eat well. Dr. Collins, no need to be so gloomy. Don't you want to join me in the dining room?" I asked him with a very cheerful smile.
"No, no, thank you for the offer. I think I'll go to my room," Dr. Collins said and left my room, while I watched him with a very attentive gaze. I really wouldn't want the doctor to suddenly become a problem...
After a very hearty breakfast—or perhaps it was actually breakfast, since it was 10 a.m.—I decided to get to work. It was a shame I couldn't talk to Harry; he was already at school. But I called him to let him know I was okay. According to Bernard, while I was unconscious, he was beside himself with worry and spent a lot of time by my bedside.
"So, Bernard, I already have a rough idea of the scale, but how many calls were there while I was unconscious?" I asked him.
"Miss Wanda and I managed to resolve most of the urgent issues, but there are matters that require your personal attention, sir," Bernard informed me.
I needed to stop exploiting the poor butler like this, involving him in company matters, and hire a proper personal assistant. The original Norman had tried to do this, but only one of the hired assistants lasted more than a week.
"Let me guess: Quest Aerospace has been constantly calling and trying to schedule a meeting," I assumed.
"You're right, sir," Bernard said, nodding in confirmation.
"They decided to move the meeting to MY office?" I asked, not even believing such audacity. And I, by the way, hadn't yet resigned from the position of CEO of Oscorp.
This was audacity bordering on insult. And the main thing was that they didn't ask if I agreed or not; they simply informed me that they were moving the meeting.
"Yes, sir, that's what they did," my butler confirmed the obvious.
Fine, if they wanted to play it that way, I would act according to a tougher scenario.
I entered my office five minutes before the scheduled meeting and found not only Adam Hall but also two other people there. One of them was Adam's already familiar assistant, and the second might have been a lawyer. Thankfully, none of them had the audacity to sit in my chair, though I wouldn't have been very surprised if they had.
"Hello, Adam, and also, hello to Adam's unknown assistants," I greeted politely. Receiving only nods in response, I continued: "Why did you want to see me so urgently?"
"Osborn, this is not how things are done. Yes, we gained control of Oscorp, but you practically gutted the company by taking key employees and scientists," Adam immediately began making accusations.
"So, how dare I, as you say, gut the company before you did?" I asked, looking curiously at Adam. I didn't quite understand what he was trying to achieve with these accusations.
"It doesn't matter what we wanted to do. What matters is that you're engaging in unfair competition, and we can sue you," Adam said, moving on to threats that would have been effective if I were afraid of lawsuits with these idiots.
"I'm ready for any lawsuits from your side. And don't say that I took all the key employees. None of those who work on designing, creating, and selling washing machines will leave with me," I said with a sweeping gesture. I didn't care at all about giving them all these people.
"What the hell do washing machines have to do with anything? You poached the key scientists who were leading all the promising developments. You even took the security department almost in its entirety," Hall accused. "Take Otto Octavius, for example—a world-renowned scientist. Today, he sent his lawyers to terminate his contract. I'm even surprised that Mendel Stromm hasn't done the same."
"Well, I offered him to leave with me, but he refused," I didn't hide my response to his accusations. "Yes, yes, I understand, I'm very bad, and in the world of fluffy business ponies, you can't do that. But what do you really want from me?"
"I want you to stop stirring the pot, tell the key employees to return to their places, and sign a non-compete agreement for five years," Adam said. The lawyer then pushed the non-compete agreement toward me, signing which would practically make it impossible for me to conduct normal business for the next five years.
"I don't even know what kind of idiot would sign this contract. Shove this agreement up your ass," I said, dropping all politeness and not even intending to take the contract to read the terms written in it.
"Norman, don't be so categorical. Very influential people stand behind us, and they don't like that you've poached so many employees," Adam Hall said very insinuatingly.
"What do I care what they like or don't like?" I asked a perfectly logical question.
"Norman, the people behind us are used to getting what they want. And if you don't do everything as we need, they'll start acting on their own. Fine, if you're not afraid for yourself, I understand. But you have a son, Harry. Think about him at least."
"I don't understand. Are you threatening me? Get the hell out of my office. And, Adam, I thought you were a serious businessman who achieved everything on your own, like me. But it seems you're just a puppet in the hands of these influential people," I said disappointedly, looking at Adam Hall.
"And speaking of that, it seems, Norman, you've forgotten who's in charge of Oscorp now. As you put it, get out of this office yourself, and out of the building. Security will be notified not to let you in here again."
"Do you think you have the last word, Adam?" I asked, looking at Adam like an insect.
"Yes, I think so. And I also think that soon you'll change your mind and sign this damn non-compete agreement, but not for five, but for ten years. And I'm not sure you'll get off with just that," Adam continued his threats, and I felt that these threats weren't just words—they were backed by problems I would still have to deal with.
"Well, Adam, I'll leave the building now, as you wish. But I hope that within a week, Oscorp will leave the Oscorp Tower, which belongs to me."
"Belongs to you? What are you talking about?" Adam asked in bewilderment.
"Oh, someone didn't do their homework. The Oscorp Tower was built by my ancestor, Alton Osborn, and belongs to me. Oscorp only leased it from me. And the fact that you don't know this says a lot about you as a businessman. I'm terminating the lease agreement and giving you a week to vacate my Tower," I said with a smile to these would-be businessmen, who grew paler and paler as I spoke.
"But then you'll have to pay huge penalties for the early termination of the lease agreement," Adam found a flaw in my words, while his lawyer was already reviewing the Oscorp Tower lease agreement on his tablet.
"I'm willing to pay those measly ten million for the pleasure of kicking you out of my building," I told them with a satisfied smile.
"Only ten million?" Adam asked. After a nod from his lawyer, he continued: "I won't leave it at that. You'll regret this, Osborn. You'll regret it..."
He continued saying something, but I wasn't listening anymore. Whistling, I left first the office and then the Oscorp Tower.