Marvel: Master Of Role-Playing

Reid's unexpected arrival was a welcome relief for the prison officials, who wasted no time arranging a private meeting room for him and Norman.

And Norman, upon learning that Luthor hadn't been contacted by the prison and had come on his own accord, had many thoughts running through his mind.

But right now, none of that mattered. He had gone days without food—he wasn't about to die of starvation in the middle of a conversation with Luthor.

When Reid stepped into the dimly lit private room, the first thing he saw was Norman, hunched over the metal table, devouring his food like a man starved. He barely paused to breathe, shoveling the bland, grayish meal into his mouth. Just one look was enough to tell how terrible it tasted.

"How's it going, Norman? Prison life keeping you busy?"

Reid pulled out a chair and sat across from him, his voice laced with amusement.

The guard assigned to watch them took the hint, quietly exiting the room and shutting off the surveillance.

Norman, however, barely reacted to the mockery. Without looking up, he scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes and pushed the tray toward Reid.

"A busy life naturally leads to a good appetite," he muttered. "Want a taste? No seasoning. Just pure and simple."

"Heh."

Reid let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair without touching the food. He didn't need to say anything else.

Seeing that Luthor didn't continue to speak, Norman started to grow uneasy.

He had been gambling on this meeting, hoping Luthor needed something from him—either his shares or his silence about that incredible armor he had glimpsed.

But if he refused to speak, Norman would never gain the upper hand.

The shares were one thing. Even if he died, they wouldn't automatically transfer to Luthor. But that secret... Norman had no doubt that Luthor could pull some strings and have him quietly eliminated in prison, making it look like a natural death.

In the end, Norman was the first to break the silence.

Luthor could afford to wait. He had all the time in the world. Even if he didn't regain Norman's shares immediately, it made little difference while Norman rotted in prison.

But Norman didn't have time. Emily had, at most, two months left. If he couldn't find a solution by then, she was as good as dead.

And if there was anyone in this world capable of saving her within that time frame, it was the man sitting right in front of him.

This genius, almost inhuman in his intellect—only he had the chance to save Emily now.

"Speak, Luthor. What do you want from me? As long as you agree to my terms, I'll give you anything."

Even now, Norman believed Luthor had no knowledge of Emily's genetic illness. After all, he had never told anyone.

Reid, hearing Norman's surrender, simply smiled. Instead of answering immediately, he pulled out a document and a small metal box, setting them on the table between them.

"Your shares, in exchange for a cure to the genetic disease. A fair trade."

"A cure!"

Norman's eyes lit up instantly, but the very next second, his expression twisted into something savage.

How could Luthor possibly know about Emily's genetic condition?

Even though he had been locked away, he had only just learned of Emily's illness himself. Yet somehow, Luthor had already developed a cure?

Not even a genius could work at such an impossible speed, unless he had prepared for this in advance.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, coupled with his understanding of Luthor's character, Norman came to a terrifying realization.

"You did this!"

Bang!

Norman slammed his fist against the table, his eyes blazing with fury.

"It was you!" he roared. "You triggered Emily's illness! You found some way to accelerate it, didn't you?!"

He had no doubt that the man before him—this cold, ruthless monster—was capable of such a thing. If necessary, Norman was sure Luthor would even abandon his own lover without hesitation.

Of course, that assumption wasn't entirely fair. Perhaps the real Luthor might have discarded anyone for his goals, but Reid had no such attachments to begin with.

"Does it matter, Norman? If you hadn't transformed into the Green Goblin and attacked me, earning yourself a 2,700-year prison sentence, would Emily have been pushed into such distress that her illness triggered ahead of time?"

Reid's smile was cold, as if he hadn't even noticed Norman's increasingly gloomy expression.

"I merely accelerated the inevitable. Even without me, Emily was going to die. You don't actually think you had the ability to create a cure for a hereditary disease, do you? You're not capable, Norman. You couldn't even handle something as simple as the serum."

And that was the truth.

In the world of the game, Norman's wife, Emily, had succumbed to her illness while Harry and Peter were still in Midtown High.

Perhaps due to the trauma of losing his mother, Harry had also fallen ill a few years later, at an even younger age than Emily, eventually losing the ability to move freely.

Norman had been powerless. He might have climbed to the position of New York's mayor through wealth and influence, but he had never managed to develop a cure for his wife or child.

None of that mattered to Norman right now. The only thing on his mind was that Luthor was the one behind Emily's sudden decline.

Overwhelmed with fury, Norman leaped up, his cuffed hands lunging for Reid's throat.

"I'll kill you!"

Bang!

Before his fingers could even touch him, Reid grabbed Norman's head with one hand and slammed it down onto the table, a dull sound echoing through the room.

"Kill me?" Reid scoffed. "So Emily isn't as important to you as you claim. If that's the case, then forget it."

As soon as Norman struggled, Reid let go of him without resistance. But the box containing the cure was already back in his possession.

Without another word, he turned and started walking away.

Panic surged through Norman. He didn't care about being beaten or humiliated. What he feared was Luthor leaving and never returning.

Realizing that Emily's last hope might vanish forever, Norman shoved aside his anger and grabbed the pen he had prepared in advance. Without hesitation, he signed the transfer agreement.

"I agree!" His voice was hoarse, desperate. "I'll do anything! Please, save Emily! Save my son!"

Reid stopped, his voice flat and indifferent.

"It's too late."

Norman froze. The papers were signed. He had given up everything. And yet, all he got in return was Luthor's cold voice.

"Although it's a bit troublesome, I can still take my time negotiating with the government and your son to reclaim the shares after your death. The real issue here is your attitude. I find it… unpleasant."

Thud.

Hearing this, Norman abandoned all his dignity and dropped to his knees.

"Please," he begged. "Save my wife and child."

Then, as if even kneeling wasn't enough, he bent forward, placing his hands on the cold concrete floor.

"Please," he repeated. "Save my wife and child."

Finally, he slammed his forehead against the hard concrete floor, and blood seeped onto the ground.

"PLEASE! SAVE MY WIFE AND CHILD!"

Reid slowly turned back, watching him. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

Norman Osborn had finally given up everything.

Stepping forward, he picked up the signed agreement. Then, crouching down, he leaned close.

"Norman," he whispered, "one month from now, you will die in this prison. Food poisoning. How does that sound?"

Norman's body trembled.

No matter how strong someone was, the thought of their own impending death would always bring fear.

But in the end, he nodded.

"I… agree."

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