A person died alone in an unknown corner, with no one to care even in their final moment.
—Even death was as silent as if it had never existed.
[Misery Value fluctuation detected, Misery Value +1%]
This person was truly miserable; just thinking about it made Finn feel a sense of profound misery.
"What are you doing?" Marcus asked, looking in shock at Finn, who was pulling a bar of chocolate out of his waist bag.
Eating chocolate," Finn explained. "I have low blood sugar, you called me out during dinner time; I'm afraid I'll faint.
Finn paused, looking up at Marcus with a somewhat matter-of-fact rhetorical question, "You wouldn't want there to be one more body lying around in this morgue for no reason, would you?"
"Do you want something to tide you over?" Finn thought for a moment, then generously pulled another bar of chocolate from his bag and handed it to Marcus.
Marcus: ".." Do you think I can even eat that?
Chapter 26: Mutation: Current
Marcus stared blankly at the chocolate bar being handed to him.
He glanced again at the corpse covered with a white cloth, its charred edges exposed.
For a moment, it was impossible to know how to react.
Even a man could not describe how eerie the current scene was; the young man was actually eating chocolate calmly in front of a charred corpse.
At that moment, the System PP in Finn's mind suddenly cried out urgently and excitedly: [Host! I have detected that Max Dillon still has vital signs! He must have fallen into a state of deep suspended animation due to last night's high-voltage electric shock; he is not actually dead!]
Finn paused his chewing of the chocolate.
The rich taste of chocolate seemed to only now spread through his mouth.
Do as you say," Finn Osborn said, looking at Marcus with a solemn expression. "I'll find a way to expose this scandal in front of everyone at the press conference and pin the whole thing on Harry Osborn. If he refuses to treat me like a brother, then I won't treat him like one either.
“That's right, Finn,” Marcus said with satisfaction, his tone deliberately inflammatory. “This is exactly what you should do. You are both the sons of Norman Osborn; everything he can hold in his hands, you can possess as well. The press conference is the perfect opportunity. When the time comes, all the media will be there. Don't worry, I will teach you exactly what to say and what to do. At that moment, Harry Osborn's public image will completely collapse, he will be taken away for investigation immediately, the board will initiate emergency removal proceedings. Rest assured, we will all be standing by your side then. After all, you are also an heir to the Osborn family.”
"We will take back the Osborn Group, every single piece of it," Marcus said, his voice filled with absolute certainty.
"Make Osborn great again?" Finn asked, looking up.
"Yes, make Osborn great again." Marcus said helplessly, but he could only chant the slogan along with Finn.
Go on, then," Finn said, continuing to munch on his chocolate. "I'll arrange Max's burial.
"You'll arrange it?" Marcus didn't know what Finn meant.
I don't trust you," Finn said, looking at Marcus with a sincere gaze. "I'm afraid you'll make a mistake and give Harry something to use against you.
A lump formed in his throat. Marcus: ".." I'm the one who's worried about you!
"Since you need me to make this happen, then listen to me," Finn said, his tone sounding remarkably like Harry's dogmatic arrogance.
Hearing such a familiar tone, Marcus felt like cursing out loud.
He thought he had picked an easy target, but it turned out that not only were the hereditary diseases, but suspicion and the desire for control also seemed to have taken root in the Osborn genes!
So Finn Osborn was just like this too!
However, Marcus quickly suppressed the agitation in his heart. He took a deep breath, his fingertips slowly tracing the lines in his palm, a look of calculation flashing through his eyes.
It doesn't matter; his primary goal right now is to completely bring down Harry Osborn.
As long as he could achieve this goal, what did it matter if he played along with Finn for the time being? Moreover, once this was accomplished, it would become the greatest leverage he had to control Finn. Besides, Finn had no business acumen and understood nothing of corporate affairs; being a mere figurehead with no substance would be just as much as he was to Marcus.
"By the way." Finn suddenly approached Marcus.
Just as Marcus was about to ask, a dark shadow flashed before his eyes, a heavy punch slammed hard into his face.
Finn's strength was far greater than his slender frame suggested. With a muffled grunt, the man was sent crashing to the ground, his back slamming heavily against the cold floor.
"Finn, you dare—!" Marcus was dizzy, bracing himself against the ground in an attempt to stand up, his eyes filled with disbelief and rage.
“I don't like the way you look down on me, do you understand?” Finn looked down at him, the curve of his eyes appearing somewhat harmless. Since it wasn't a critical point in the plot, Finn could only strike Marcus in such a covert way, which also served as a way to vent some frustration for Harry and Max. "Harry never takes me seriously, I will pay him back twofold. If you look at me with those eyes that treat me like a useless idiot, I won't be polite to you either."
[PP, why doesn't hitting others increase Misery Value?] Finn even asked in his mind with a hint of dissatisfaction.
System PP: 【.. Maybe it's because you feel good about it in your heart, Host?】
If beating people up could generate Misery Value, System PP would even suspect that Finn would host a slapping contest at the party.
“Go on then,” Finn said calmly to Marcus, who was suppressing his rage. Finn also knew that, at most, Marcus would hold a grudge against him in his heart; he wouldn't fight him here, nor would he tear up their pact because of it. “I will wrap this up beautifully. Perhaps you will find me smarter than you thought. But this is a good thing for you, isn't it? After all, as your partner, it's better to be smart so you don't expose yourself before the press conference, right?”
“Rest assured, I only want the Osborn Group and a way to cure genetic diseases,” Finn added in a soothing tone. “I know what you're plotting, but I truly have no interest in running the company. As long as you provide me with sufficient benefits, I will support you in becoming the manager of the Osborn Group.”
Finn had blocked every possible response, leaving Marcus to clench his fists before finally gritting his teeth and struggling to his feet in a disheveled state.
The dull pain in his cheeks and the bleeding in his mouth continued to throb against his temples.
“Very well, Finn.” Marcus cursed the damn Osborn in his heart, “Since you are already aware, I have nothing more to say.”
The greatest interests are always built on the premise of a win-win situation.
And without a doubt, the total downfall of Harry Osborn was the only way for him and Finn to achieve the maximization of their interests.
Based on this, Marcus also believed that Finn would not defect at the last minute, besides, this was exactly what Finn wanted to achieve.
Afterward, I will teach you the specific wording and response strategies for the press conference." Marcus took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the resentment and humiliation in his heart, his tone regained a sense of professional composure. "You only need to do exactly as I say, everything will go without a hitch.
Fine, I will be a good student," Finn nodded with a smile. "It's a pleasure working with you. For the glory of Osborn.
Marcus's face turned pale, he could barely stand to hear that phrase, "Make Osborn Great Again," ever again.
For these decades, he had been held in the palm of the Osborns' hands, in the end, he was still expected to shout the slogan "Make Osborn Great Again"—it was a massive irony.
If you're going to deal with it, then deal with it." Marcus didn't bother with the slogan again, suppressing his rage as he left directly, "Clean it up.
The heavy door slammed shut, leaving Finn alone in the morgue in an instant.
System PP: [Host, your ability to drive people away seems to be getting stronger and stronger.] Although it played no critical role in advancing the mission, System PP had made new discoveries, he felt that his Host was actually quite skilled at being sarcastic. Perhaps it was because he learned it from previous Hosts who underwent face-slapping counterattacks?
"When will he wake up?" Finn asked.
System PP: [Uncertain.]
"I'm starting to feel a bit unwell." After Marcus left, the silence and chill in the mortuary completely enveloped Finn. Even though there was light, his claustrophobia was acting up; his chest felt heavy, his breathing became labored, he subconsciously gripped the flashlight in his hand even tighter.
Butler Joseph is still waiting for you outside!" System PP said hurriedly and anxiously. "I can connect to the communication directly and let Joseph in.
But PP, this place feels a bit like my old pocket dimension." At that moment, Finn suddenly blurted out something out of the blue, his tone carrying a hint of a familiar sense of déjà vu, "Back when my hosts used to block me, I would pass the time by painting in a small space like this.
Even in an environment like this, Finn suddenly experienced a burst of creative inspiration.
But isn't it a bit inappropriate to paint in a morgue?
On the cold morgue table, the corpse that had been burned black and curled up suddenly experienced a slight tremor in its fingertips, followed immediately by a pair of eyes snapping wide open.
As the man struggled to sit up from the bed, the cracked, charred skin peeled away from his body like shattered dust. Strangely, beneath the sloughing scabs, a faint blue electric light shimmered on the new flesh, spreading from his limbs throughout his entire body, as if flowing currents were hidden within his very bones and blood.
Max Dillon stared blankly as he raised his hand, looking at the layer of hazy blue light in his palm, even feeling the sensation of electricity flowing through his body.
—Was he dead?
But the clear heartbeat within his chest seemed to be telling him that he was still alive.
—To be precise, it was a resurrection.
Max Dillon's memory was still stuck in the hell of just a few seconds ago.
He was just an employee of the Osborn Group; no one remembered his name, no one cared about his existence. Even though today was his birthday, his supervisor had forced him to work overtime under the pretext of work.
Then there was the moment he fell into a tank filled with electric eels, their sharp teeth tearing through his flesh, as currents repeatedly pierced through his body, sending waves of excruciating pain through every bone and limb. That deathly agony seemed to still be screaming wildly at his nerve endings even now.
So, has he undergone a mutation? And this place.. is a morgue?
A pale space, air filled with a chilling frost, the lingering scent of disinfectant and death in the air.
Max Dillon knew all along that someone like him was an existence that went unseen while living in this world.
Even in death, he would merely be treated as a corpse from an accident, tossed carelessly into a morgue, so sloppily that it would be as if he had never existed in this world at all.
—No one would care about his death.
—And no one would even notice his death.
Just as that despairing sense of resentment and loneliness was about to swallow him whole, Max suddenly caught a glimpse of a silhouette standing by the wall.
That figure was perfectly shrouded by a beam of light cast from an extremely bright flashlight.
In the dim morgue, that beam of light was like a salvation piercing through the chaos, outlining the young man's silhouette with exceptional clarity.
The surrounding chill and silence seemed to come to an abrupt halt at the edge of that light, leaving only that figure as the sole focus in the entire dim world.
So close.
And yet so distant that it felt sacred to Max.
Max Dillon's breath hitched instinctively, even the electricity surging through his body seemed to become restless, leaping and dancing.
He watched as the young man staring at the pale wall slowly turned around.
There was intense backlight in front of the shadow.
Those clear, emerald-green eyes met Max's gaze calmly.
Max recognized the other person almost instantly—
He had once had the honor of pressing the elevator button for this noble Young Master Osborn at the elevator entrance, but that was all; at the time, he hadn't even dared to look him in the eye. At this moment, Max Dillon didn't even dare to breathe heavily. He simply could not comprehend how someone who lived at the top of the pyramid, surrounded by countless halos, could appear so brilliantly before.. him.
Even, he was looking at him.
Something was expanding wildly.
It squeezed through the heavy currents, filling his hollow and lowly soul.
Max Dillon watched with bated breath and a pious heart, gazing at this light that should never have descended upon his world.
The young man watched the eerie blue light flowing through the man's body, suddenly his lips curled upward, his gentle voice rippling through the deathly silent morgue:
You're so bright.
I'm not even afraid anymore.