"Well, you're fine. As for those two idiots—forget them for now."
Ryuuto grinned at Gwen, then drove his heel down with just enough pressure to make the captive Discipliner convulse in agony. The man's eyes bulged, veins crawling across his temples.
"Ah! Stop! It hurts! I'm dying here!"
He slapped the ground with his one free hand, desperate and pathetic.
"Then stop whining and talk," Ryuuto said coolly. "What are you doing in New York? Don't tell me you're just sightseeing."
He twisted the man's arm a little more. The crack was audible.
"I'll talk! I'll talk!" the Discipliner shrieked. "It—it was Quicksilver's idea! None of this has anything to do with me!"
"Get to the point." Ryuuto's tone went cold. "You've got five seconds before I stop being polite."
"Quicksilver brought us here to find Gambit! Maybe he already grabbed him. If you hurry, you might catch up to them at—at 813!"
Ryuuto smirked. "I'll worry about that. Keep going."
He and Gwen exchanged a glance—matching, playful smiles that didn't belong on heroes' faces.
"Anything else you want to confess?" Ryuuto asked, leaning in. "The more useful your info, the longer you keep your head."
"I swear that's all! I just joined them—I didn't even want to come tonight!" The Discipliner's voice broke into a sob. "If I'd known I'd run into you, I'd have stayed home and watched TV!"
Pathetic.
The man was trembling so badly he looked ready to pass out. Between Ryuuto's shadow pressing on his neck and Gwen's calm, predatory stare, he didn't even dare breathe too loudly.
Then—suddenly—Ryuuto released him.
For a moment, relief flickered in the Discipliner's eyes. Then instinct kicked in. Something was wrong.
"What… what are you doing?" he stammered, voice cracking.
Ryuuto's fingers flashed through a rapid series of signs. A faint red light shimmered across his eyes.
"Mind Transfer Technique."
Before the Discipliner could scream, Ryuuto thrust his palms forward—and his soul slammed into the man's body like lightning.
Gwen stood watch, silent but alert, her gaze softening for just a heartbeat. She trusted him completely.
A few minutes later, Ryuuto exhaled and opened his eyes.
"Well?" Gwen asked quickly. "Did it work?"
Ryuuto stretched, cracking his neck. "Yeah. It worked."
He reached out and ruffled her hair. "He didn't lie… but he's still a sneaky little bastard. Even on death's doorstep, he tried to hide things from me. Typical lowlife."
"So what do we do with him now?" Gwen asked, wrinkling her nose. The man lay motionless, half-conscious, drooling on the floor.
Ryuuto rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Then, deadpan: "We could just kill him. Saves us cleanup."
"Okay!" Gwen replied too cheerfully, clapping her hands.
The Discipliner's eyes rolled back in terror, and he promptly fainted.
"Useless," Ryuuto sighed. "Didn't even last long enough for the dramatic moment."
He and Gwen high-fived.
Pulling out his communicator, Ryuuto smirked. "Yo, Tony. You awake? I've got a little gift for you."
He left a shadow clone behind to guard the unconscious villain. Then, with a running start, he and Gwen leapt into the night sky, the moonlight stretching across their path like a silver ribbon.
Somewhere far away, in an abandoned factory, Norman Osborn knelt in the dark, clutching his face and sobbing.
"Damn it… why did it come to this? What do I do now…?"
His mind replayed the horrors he'd unleashed—the experiments, the deaths, the madness. He couldn't go home. Couldn't show his face. Couldn't even stay sane much longer.
Then, that voice slithered back into his head.
"You pathetic coward," the Green Goblin sneered. "How could I have been born inside someone as weak as you? No wonder we failed!"
Osborn clawed at his scalp. "Yes! I'm weak! Please—just leave me alone!"
"Leave you?" The Goblin laughed, the sound splitting into madness. "No, Norman. I'll free you. Give me your body, and I'll make sure the world remembers the name Green Goblin!"
"No… no, I don't want that!"
Osborn screamed—but his voice changed halfway through. A twisted smile spread across his face, eyes glowing with a hellish red light.
When he spoke again, it wasn't Norman anymore.
"Ahh… that's better."
The Green Goblin rose to his feet, flexing his fingers, grinning at the darkness.
Then—another laugh echoed from the shadows. Smooth, mocking, familiar.
"Welcome back, my dear Goblin. You've been sleeping for far too long."
The Goblin froze. "Who's there!? Show yourself!"
But the laughter only grew louder, filling the empty factory like the prelude to chaos.