"You're an intern at the lab. Did Professor Connors assign you to participate in the experiments?"
"No, I only handled data processing and some low-complexity support tasks."
"Such as?"
"Cleaning, data handling, and relaying information."
"Did any of those tasks include gene-editing operations?"
"No, they did not."
"Then how did you complete the experiment on your own? You haven't even graduated from high school yet. You're just a high school student."
"I watched Professor Connors and Mr. Lee perform the operations, and I secretly learned."
"You learned? Are you telling me that you, a high school student, learned such advanced technology?"
"Yes, I did."
The lawyer interrupted, "Do you really expect us to believe that? Professor Connors and Mr. Lee were both involved in the experiment—"
Peter interrupted, "Whether you believe it or not, this was my own doing, and I can repeat the experiment in court if necessary."
No one wanted to see that—at least, not in the courtroom.
"Would demonstrating the experiment violate the lab's rules for interns?"
"No, sir. It's the intern's right to observe and learn. In fact, Professor Connors gave me safety briefings every day."
"Did they emphasize the risks during the demonstrations?"
"Yes."
"And yet you broke safety protocols for your own selfish reasons?"
"Yes."
"You mentioned earlier that you interacted with a graduate student from Lab No. 3 before conducting the unauthorized experiment. Did you kidnap him?"
"No, sir. We greeted each other, but we didn't speak much. I didn't even know his name."
"Was he wearing a gray shirt at the time?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe? Please answer yes or no."
"Or rather..."
Peter's performance in court was even better than Leo and Matt had anticipated.
The prosecutor's questions came in waves, trying to find contradictions or vague points in Peter's testimony to achieve certain objectives.
However, Peter confessed faster than expected and showed no negative emotions, even when faced with numerous seemingly meaningless questions.
The prosecutor was left parched but still couldn't find any inconsistencies, nor did he achieve any desired results.
Peter's answers were straightforward and direct, thanks to his total lack of a guilty conscience and his commitment to being as honest as possible.
But the prosecutor had other tasks to accomplish beyond just the matter with Lab No. 3.
"Could the lizard serum potentially be used for human enhancement?"
"That's unethical. It should be prohibited on moral grounds."
"But you did it, so you're saying it's technically feasible."
"Technically, it's not. Soldiers should be capable of following orders. At the time, I clearly wasn't able to do that."
"On the night in question, Mr. Lee appeared at the scene, and he—"
"I don't remember anything from that time, which is exactly why I say the serum shouldn't be used for human enhancement.
If the court allows, I can fully explain my reasons here."
The prosecutor's face remained unchanged, but inwardly, he was surprised. This kid's not like what the higher-ups described at all.
He was supposed to be reckless and timid, insecure and cowardly, but aside from the glasses, there was no sign that he had long been a victim of school bullying.
Had the psychological profile lost its effectiveness overnight? What was going on with this boy?
The case itself was pretty straightforward. Under rigorous and carefully crafted questioning, Peter had shown no signs of frustration, shame, or any other negative emotions—at least not outwardly.
The judge knocked the gavel: "Based on the current information, on the night of June 4th, yesterday, the defendant Peter Parker conducted unauthorized human experiments on himself and caused significant damage in the city, endangering public safety.
Throughout the case, Peter Parker acted recklessly and immaturely, illegally replicating an experimental serum and becoming the 'Lizard Man' described in the case, causing damages amounting to over $2.34 million. The final total is still being calculated and may change.
While Peter Parker had no intent to harm anyone and did not directly cause any casualties, he violated several laws, including the New York State Penal Code..."
A long list of laws was read by the judge, suffocating those present.
But the final ruling, as Leo had guessed, was not harsh: after a comprehensive review of the evidence and circumstances, the judge decided against a heavy sentence.
"Judgment: 5 years imprisonment, suspended for 2 years and 6 months.
Considering the overall circumstances, the Empire State University's Department of Biological Research will be responsible for 30% of the final damages.
Case dismissed. Any appeals must be filed within 30 days."
The actual compensation is likely to be exorbitant, that's for sure.
The bizarre thing about this case is that Peter caused the damage while in the form of a lizard. In some ways, they could even argue for a mental illness defense.
The preliminary hearing had been fast-tracked to appease the public, and the case was clear enough that there wasn't much left to investigate. The New York justice system had displayed its highest level of efficiency since its founding. This was bound to make the news.
A suspended sentence of two and a half years was a good outcome—especially considering that with an unresolved case still pending, Peter might not serve any time at all.
The Parker family embraced outside the courthouse, while a swarm of media reporters awaited. Hammond, Matt, and the rest of the team helped manage the crowd.
Peter appeared more composed now, and his responses had been spot-on.
Legally, the company and Peter had severed ties, and they even had the right to sue Peter for damages.
Rehiring him was only possible because of another investigation requested by the NYPD, so technically, everything was above board.
As for the media narrative—when you're in the spotlight, there will always be someone with something to say.
Would the military or government request access to the gene-editing technology? They might want to, but the government and corporations only truly work together when it comes to exploiting ordinary people and maximizing tax revenue.
You could argue that many corporations sponsor politicians and presidential campaigns, but those are many corporations, and when one company seeks to influence an official, there's always another company's politician keeping an eye on them.
To give an example: if you want to invest in this technology, you'd need congressional approval, and funds would be allocated—but who oversees that process is recorded.
Not only is it recorded, but it's clear who that politician received campaign donations from, and which company is pushing for action.
If the investment doesn't pay off, or if it results in something like a "Lizard Man" disaster, it becomes ammunition for political opponents.
Even in fierce factional rivalries, just being associated with such a scandal makes you a target for the opposition.
The Osborn Corporation has friends in politics, but the political arena isn't their playground.
So, when it comes to this kind of situation, politicians would rather stay away—they wouldn't want the government to be seen claiming the technology right after the Lizard Man incident, would they?
Political rivals would pounce on that in an instant.
Public suspicion would naturally follow: What exactly is the government trying to do? Do they still care about their voters? Will there be protests?
Even companies that might be tempted know their politicians aren't fools. You can't just do any job they ask—they might be out of office after just one wrong move. That's short-sighted.
And those political interest groups would be similarly cautious due to similar political concerns.
Is it really worth taking on such political risk for a serum that creates monsters?
Politicians don't care that much about individual power. They don't like uncontrollable monsters. With the same budget, they'd rather buy some missiles from Stark Industries. Everyone loves a good anti-terrorism campaign.
Ultimately, the U.S. government isn't a unified force, and now that this matter is under the spotlight, it's inconvenient for them to take official action.
The NYPD is slightly more flexible, but their point of contact is the strict George.
Leo doesn't have any political power to lose, so he may as well expose the entire story—there wouldn't be much follow-up leverage if he didn't.
It's like this: if a small businessman has a few mistresses, people think it's normal; but if the mayor has a few mistresses, it becomes a scandal.
Morality and chaos here aren't even as bad as in a cyberpunk dystopia, and monopolies haven't fully formed yet, so there's more room for legal action.
Moreover, the principles behind DNA editing are publishable in papers. Leo is already considering publishing part of the results to draw attention.
The real secrets in biotech are the DNA algorithms, the methods for synthesizing serums, the cutting proteins, their corresponding codon sequences, and guide RNA information.
Leo and Connors could always claim that the successful creation of a transgenic lizard was a fluke. There's no precedent in the U.S. for arresting someone over this.
The Osborn Corporation might be interested—but if the lizard serum was supposed to cure Harry, it's now clear that it may not work as well as expected.
Besides, if Lab No. 3's disaster is connected to the Osborn Corporation, it would prove that they could only reverse-engineer a serum from the lizard's blood, with far lower completion and effectiveness. Perfection would require a lot of time.
And time is money.
So instead of worrying about corporate pressure, Leo should be more concerned about villainous organizations coming after him in secret.
As Leo left the courthouse, he was approached by a smiling man in a suit who presented his credentials:
Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division—better known as S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Mr. Lee, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Phil Coulson, here to discuss additional details of the case."
Leo shook his head. "All the details were presented in court. You're professionals—you can tell Peter didn't hide anything."
"No, we're talking about the parts he doesn't remember."
"You mean the part where Spider-Woman caught the Lizard Man? What exactly do you want to know?"
"Actually, we're more interested in you. We found your hospital records and saw that within months of waking up, you became a super-genius and developed a deep partnership with the NYPD, contributing to the development of the Lizard Serum.
Did you inject yourself with the Lizard Serum?"
"No—I mean no offense, but you don't look blind to me."
"Or anything similar?"
Leo gave Coulson an exasperated look. "Do you think Tony Stark or his father injected him with some kind of 'smart serum'?"
Coulson didn't seem embarrassed. He smiled and said, "Humor, I like it. We're concerned about every unusual event like this, and we want to know how much damage the Lizard Man could cause."
"A lot—you've already seen it. The best outcome would be to prevent the Lizard Man from appearing in society.
You look like some kind of special agency, so here's some intel for you: a genetically modified lizard is missing, and you should be paying attention to that."
"That's... very important information."
"Yes, very important. And there's something even more crucial. There are only two companies, including mine, that have successfully completed cross-species gene editing. I don't think I need to spell that out for you, right?"
Coulson recorded this information, but Leo suspected they had already gotten this intel from the NYPD.
They would continue investigating Leo, and also continue looking into the Osborn Corporation.
"Mr. Lee—let me be straightforward. Are you interested in working with us? You have exceptional talent.
The Lizard Serum is a remarkable invention, but it needs regulation. And we're the agency responsible for regulating such high-level items and technologies.
With our support, you can continue your research. I'm sure you've already seen the consequences of unregulated technology."
Leo shook his head slightly. "I don't need sponsorship, but I do need government agencies to fulfill their duties. If regulating dangerous technology is your job, I'm happy to cooperate.
But I prefer to maintain the independence of my research."
"Alright—I'll note your opinion, but S.H.I.E.L.D. will always welcome you. Can I have your number?"
"Of course."
The two shook hands, and Coulson flashed his signature smile again.
Before leaving, he added, "Mr. Lee, just a piece of advice—the world is far from peaceful right now. Maintaining independence is going to be very difficult. If you change your mind, don't hesitate to contact us."
Leo watched as Coulson got into a black car and drove away.
Just as Coulson said, the world was indeed not at peace.
Tony Stark had just returned from Afghanistan and was still selling weapons. The "War on Terror" wasn't over yet.
He needed allies—and soon potential allies needed him, too.
A black luxury limousine pulled up by the roadside, and a handsome Asian man stepped out.
This man was not only handsome, with a gentle smile, but also obviously wealthy.
He was the rising financial star of Chinatown—Martin Li.
"I am..."
"Martin Li, I know. And I guess you know who I am too."
Martin was momentarily stunned but continued smiling. "You seem like you've been waiting for me."
Leo also smiled. "To be precise, I've been waiting for an investor. However, a quick search online, and I found you. We share a similar last name."
(TN: So I always write the MC's last name as Lee because that is what the OG translator wrote but later on it was confirmed it was written as Li as Martin Li is a real character in Marvel and it is noted here they have the same last name not similar I change it so it would fit with lee instead should I change it back to Li from here on out let me know)
"Yes..." Martin responded thoughtfully. "Shall we talk?"
Leo nodded and got into the limousine.