Chapter 56

Suddenly blocked by a lizard, Alvin’s mood turned sour.

He glanced at the smirking Black Widow and sneered: “Don’t get too happy yet—when that thing charges, I might be fine, but you? Not so sure.”

No sooner had he spoken than the lizard-man went berserk, charging down the highway like a tank.

Cars along the way were tossed aside like toys, slamming hard onto the ground; the neatly paved asphalt cracked and shattered under his stomping feet.

The lizard-man’s violent rampage confirmed Alvin’s words.

These mere cars couldn’t stop the monster—if it charged, Alvin would likely be unharmed, but she? Not guaranteed.

The Black Widow, who had been smirking moments ago, now looked as if she’d swallowed a fly: “I knew it—sticking with you never brings good luck!”

Squeee—!

Tires screeched against the road, emitting a piercing noise.

Car handling is a mandatory skill for every agent—whether it’s the famed 007, Ethan Hunt, or even Marvel’s Black Widow, their driving is unquestionably top-tier.

The car spun on a dime, the engine roared, and next instant, it shot forward like an arrow.

“Stop! Alvin!”

The lizard-man seemed convinced Alvin was the “mastermind,” sprinting on all fours across the overpass, chasing the car ahead.

“What did you even do to that monster?” Black Widow stomped the accelerator, then saw Alvin in the backseat, sipping wine calmly—her temper flared: “Aren’t you supposed to be powerful? Use your damn superpowers and stop that thing!”

“Do you have some kind of misconception about me?”

Though the car rocked violently, Alvin stayed balanced, even holding his wine glass: “Besides, aren’t you an S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? Can’t even handle this? How did you even become an agent? Did you bribe your way in?”

“I’m an agent! An agent! Not Superman!” Black Widow was nearly at her limit, gritting her teeth: “That thing could swat me dead with one slap—how am I supposed to stop it?”

“How should I know? Why not call the magical Nick Fury?”

As the lizard-man closed in, Alvin kept taunting, pushing Black Widow to the edge.

“No more jokes—lead it somewhere empty.”

Alvin figured being chased forever wasn’t sustainable; better to end it now.

Besides, Dr. Connors in the movie was clearly a villain—he must have “Source Power!”

“Ten minutes!”

When it came to serious business, Black Widow was still professional.

She yanked the steering wheel, slammed the brakes, then floored the gas—the car carved a perfect arc through the curve, never slowing, racing toward the suburbs.

Dr. Connors, unable to turn in time, smashed headfirst into a utility pole, brushed off the dust, and roared after them again.

“Wait, let me piece this together,” Alvin pinched his brow, feeling a tickle in his skull: “You mean because my product was better, you lost funding, dared not retaliate against Norman Osborn, so you came after me instead? Is that it?”

“If not for you, Norman wouldn’t have pulled funding!”

Connors glared at him with hatred, his mind teetering on the brink of collapse, as if ready to explode: “I was one step away—just one last step—and I would’ve succeeded!”

“What’s that got to do with me?” Alvin was speechless—go beg Norman for money, or find someone else—why come after him?

“If not for your damn plan, Norman wouldn’t have withdrawn!” Connors now looked exactly like a failed entrepreneur blaming everyone else: “My regenerative serum was almost done—if not for you, none of this would’ve happened!”

“What if, even without you, Norman would’ve pulled funding anyway?”

Alvin’s lip twitched. He picked up a broken mirror, reflecting his grotesque appearance: “Look at yourself—who’d want to turn into a lizard? Is that ‘almost done’?”

“Shut up! I don’t care—it’s all your fault!”

Connors lost all reason, a crimson glint flashing in his eyes: “I’ll kill you—blame yourself for accepting Norman’s investment!”

What kind of twisted logic is this? Should good people be held at gunpoint?

Alvin almost laughed at Connors’ bizarre logic: “Now I get why Norman pulled funding—you’re mentally unstable. Go see Elizabeth—maybe there’s still hope for you.”

“I’ll kill you!!!”

Connors, clearly broken, roared and lunged forward, ready to tear the bastard apart.

Just as Connors was about to reach his face, a strand of web shot from the side.

The pure white webbing was incredibly strong—it yanked the charging lizard-man to a halt, and the hardened ground beneath his feet crumbled like tofu, sinking under the strain.

“It’s you again, Peter!”

Connors whirled around, glaring venomously at the source of the web—Spider-Man in his red-and-blue suit.

“Dr. Connors… please, stop!”

Spider-Man’s wrist-webbers held Connors firmly, struggling to restrain his movements: “It’s not too late—don’t do something you’ll regret!”

“No, Peter… I can’t go back.”

Clearly, Connors refused to surrender, straining violently to break free of the webbing.

Boom!

Suddenly, a deafening roar interrupted their exchange.

A rocket-propelled bullet, carrying immense kinetic force, pierced straight through Connors’ chest, leaving a horrifying hole the size of a washbasin.

“C-Conners?!”

Spider-Man froze, stunned, still reeling from shock.

Connors turned his head in disbelief toward the source of the gunshot—there stood Alvin, holding a grotesquely designed rifle: “You… you…”

“Sorry, I’m just too tired to listen to your nonsense.”

Alvin shook his numb arm, gripped the explosive rifle again, and placed his finger on the trigger: “Everyone’s busy. I’ve got things to do. So please—”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

As the trigger was pulled, the explosive rifle roared like a beast from hell!

Rocket-propelled rounds tore through the air, dumping all their terrifying kinetic energy onto Connors.

Against a one-inch caliber, unless you’re Iron Man in armor or an Asgardian, no one—lizard-man, Spider-Man, Hulk—stands a chance. The weapon treats all equally. If something resists? Pull out the plasma gun!

Unfortunately, Connors, who clawed his way to villainy through mutation, clearly wasn’t granted the hero’s privilege.

Amid the explosive roar, Dr. Connors ended his brief, miserable life.

In half a second, he was blasted into thousands of meat fragments.

The noisy world suddenly grew quiet.

Alvin lowered the rifle, listened to the Navigator System’s prompt, and smiled.

【Killed Lizard Doctor Curtis Curt Connors】

【Acquired Source Power: 500 units】

【Fixed current world anchor: Requires 3000 units of Source Power】

Damn… that’s a lot short.

Alvin stared at the display, wincing as if his teeth hurt.

In the Black Cloak Investigator world, fixing the anchor cost only 1000 Source Power—here in the Marvel Universe, it tripled instantly!

“No wonder staying here one day costs 100 energy units.” Based on two past transits, Alvin had begun to grasp the Navigator System’s hidden rules.

Depending on a world’s difficulty and scalability, the energy cost for staying and the Source Power needed to fix the anchor vary.

“No choice… tough it out in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Alvin sighed slightly—he could only hope Hell’s Kitchen would deliver.