"Eddie, do you have time tonight? I just bought a new painting and I'd like to invite a successful gentleman to appreciate it with me~"
Inside the offices of the Daily Bugle, a voluptuous woman with long blonde hair perched half her ass on the desk, speaking to the desk's owner, Eddie Brock.
As she spoke, the woman licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, making no effort to hide her sexual innuendo.
Eddie Brock's nostrils flared as he took two deep sniffs of the blonde woman's perfume scent, then leaned back in his chair with enjoyment.
Three days ago, thanks to the explosive material provided by that anonymous source, he had single-handedly transformed General Ross from a so-called "hero protecting public safety" into a "criminal attempting to create monsters and treating human lives like grass."
Under immense public and political pressure, the military court swiftly opened a case and made the results public. With irrefutable evidence, General Ross was stripped of all his positions and sentenced to life imprisonment.
Accordingly, Eddie Brock became a "hero of the journalism world," and even rumors were circulating that this year's Pulitzer Prize was his for the taking.
Over these three days, champagne, flowers, women, applause, and flattery had surrounded Eddie Brock. He was at the peak of his life, brimming with pride and ambition.
Editor-in-Chief J. Jonah Jameson had also rocket-promoted Eddie's position from intern reporter to star reporter. One more step, and he'd be the Daily Bugle's one-of-a-kind chief reporter.
Sales of the newspaper featuring Eddie's personal exposé had skyrocketed, with nearly everyone in New York holding a copy, and they were still ramping up production.
All of this was what Eddie Brock had dreamed of even in his sleep, and now it had all come to him so effortlessly.
The blonde woman with half her ass on his desk right now was named Betty, the woman desired by every male colleague at the Daily Bugle except for Chuan. Eddie Brock was no exception.
In the past, Eddie Brock wouldn't even have had a chance to strike up a conversation with Betty, but times had changed. Eddie lazily eyed Betty up and down.
"Sorry, Betty, I already have plans tonight. Stark Industries is holding a charity gala this evening, and they need me there in person."
This was a gala he couldn't even get into before, but Stark Industries had personally sent an invitation, insisting that Eddie attend.
"Well then..."
Before Betty could finish, a roar suddenly erupted from the editor-in-chief's office:
"What?!"
"Impossible!"
"...Alright, I'll handle it right away."
The first two outbursts came with Jameson looking furious, roaring loudly, his thick mustache even trembling slightly along with it.
But by the time the third sentence came out, Jameson's face had turned extremely grim, his gaze darting around uncertainly, occasionally glancing through the transparent office glass toward Eddie Brock.
The Daily Bugle offices were dead silent at that moment. No one knew what had happened to make Jameson so angry, or what he'd heard to make him so cautious.
"I've never seen Jameson this angry and this careful before."
Eddie Brock turned at the voice; it was an old employee who'd worked at the Daily Bugle for several years.
A thud hit Eddie's heart, a bad premonition surging up. As if on cue, Jameson, who had just hung up the phone, swept his gaze over the faces of the many reporters and editors, finally landing on Eddie.
"Eddie, that was a call from higher up. You... have been fired."
"What?!" Eddie's roar was even more exaggerated than Jameson's had been. "Just because of one phone call?"
Jameson's face remained grim, his hands hanging at his sides trembling slightly.
"It's not just you being fired; all the extra printed copies of the newspaper in the office need to be destroyed too."
That meant all those extra produced papers were a total loss, which was no small blow to the Daily Bugle.
"Whose call was it? I'll call them back!" Eddie Brock shot to his feet. "Speaking the truth is a journalist's duty—who the hell..."
"Eddie." Jameson interrupted Eddie Brock. "It was from the World Security Council. They originally planned to arrest you on charges of fabricating terrorist rhetoric, but they didn't go through with it."
The office was pin-drop silent. In that moment, even Eddie Brock understood why the usually acerbic Jameson had looked so grim earlier.
The World Security Council—a massive organization involving most of the world's nations. Crossing it was practically the same as becoming an enemy of the world.
Ring ring...
The Daily Bugle's public line suddenly rang. The receptionist picked up, and after about ten seconds, hung up and said to Eddie:
"Eddie, that was Stark Industries. They've found another suitable reporter to attend tonight's charity gala..."
"Pack up your things and leave, Mr. Eddie Brock." After saying that, the editor-in-chief slammed his door shut and returned to his office.
Eddie slumped back into his seat, his gaze traveling up from the ass perched on his desk to see blonde Betty purse her lips, twist her head away, and leave.
Ten minutes later, under the sympathetic, pitying, or gloating stares of his colleagues, Eddie Brock packed up his belongings alone and numbly walked out of the Daily Bugle building.
His honor, his career, his faith—all destroyed in a mere ten minutes.
He tilted his head back to look at the sky, only for rain to start pouring down, drenching him to the bone with a relentless patter.
Eddie Brock just stood there in a daze until the heavy rain had poured for over half an hour. Suddenly, an umbrella shielded his head.
Eddie numbly turned his head bit by bit, seeing a kind face wearing gold-rimmed glasses.
He was dressed in a gray suit, smiling at Eddie as he introduced himself:
"Mr. Brock, I'm Martin Li."
Martin Li extended a hand, wanting to shake Eddie Brock's.
Eddie didn't take Martin Li's extended hand, asking in a dry voice:
"How do you know my name?"
Martin Li smiled and pointed to the press badge still pinned to Eddie Brock's chest that he hadn't removed yet.
"I can sense the overwhelming hatred in your heart, no matter who it's directed at... but I can help you, as long as you come with me," Martin Li said.
Eddie Brock's heart was indeed filled with hatred—hatred for General Ross, hatred for Betty, hatred for Jameson, hatred for Stark Industries, hatred for that anonymous source who provided the evidence... He hated every single person who'd made him lose everything, equally.
"Alright, I'll go with you," Eddie Brock said.
"Alright, we'll go with you."
In a motel in Manhattan, Professor Connors and Dr. Banner exchanged a glance before saying to Batman simultaneously.
"In fact, I only feel safe staying with you guys. Otherwise, if I turn into the lizard monster somewhere else, I can hardly imagine anyone subduing me quickly without harming others."
Professor Connors said.
Dr. Banner gave a shy smile, as if the green monster that could rage and tear down dozens of floors in minutes had nothing to do with him. He added:
"But if I find out you're trying to trick me into doing some experiments like General Ross did, the big guy inside me might not be too happy about it."