Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman Chapter 656: The Osborn Manor

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Seated inside a dark green Bentley Turbo R, Henry was being driven to the Osborn Manor.

His request to meet Norman Osborn had received a positive response surprisingly quickly.

A man claiming to be Osborn's butler had called Henry's cellphone personally and informed him of the time, location, and arrangements.

There had been no room for negotiation.

Henry could either accept or refuse.

He couldn't even verify whether the caller was truly Norman Osborn's butler.

The man's arrogant attitude spoke volumes.

An ordinary person might have been intimidated by such treatment.

Henry, however, was a Kryptonian.

The thing he feared least was someone refusing to play by the rules.

So he boarded the luxury vehicle and allowed himself to be driven to the destination.

Apparently, the other side was wary of his habit of secretly recording conversations.

The chauffeur answered exactly one question—where they were going—and remained silent about everything else.

Osborn Manor wasn't located in Long Island's wealthy districts east of Manhattan.

Instead, it stood near the United Nations Headquarters.

In New York, where every square foot of land was worth a fortune, possessing a private mansion complete with gardens in such a location was highly unusual.

It could only be said that people at that level of wealth existed in an entirely different dimension.

Someone who had once been an ordinary wage slave simply couldn't comprehend it.

One advantage of meeting there, however, was proximity.

The manor stood only a few minutes away from Katharine Hepburn's residence.

Though honestly, considering New York traffic and the time wasted getting in and out of vehicles, walking might actually have been faster.

After arriving at the front entrance, another person took over reception duties.

An elderly man with white hair, dressed impeccably in a tailcoat, possessed all the dignified bearing of a traditional English butler.

He greeted Henry politely.

"Mr. Henry Brown, I hope you found the journey comfortable."

"Oh, the Bentley seats were excellent."

Henry smiled.

"At the very least, I'd mentally prepared myself for the possibility of being blindfolded during transport.

"Fortunately, that didn't happen."

The subtle jab slid right past the old butler.

His expression didn't change in the slightest.

"Please follow me.

"The master's schedule is limited.

"He has another engagement afterward."

The arrogance was deeply ingrained.

Then again, for someone of Henry's status, provoking a reaction from people like these wasn't a matter of skill.

It was a matter of perspective.

A normal person didn't get angry because a Chihuahua barked hysterically.

At most, if it tried to bite them, they'd kick it away.

Nobody dropped to all fours and competed with the dog to see who could bark louder.

Taking an elevator inside the mansion, they ascended to the top floor.

The doors opened onto a space resembling a private library.

Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling in every direction.

Rows upon rows of beautifully bound volumes filled the room.

Henry seriously doubted whether the owner had actually read any of them.

Even one would have been impressive.

Displaying books as decorations seemed to become increasingly popular the wealthier a person grew.

Since he was at home, the owner wasn't wearing a suit jacket.

Instead, he had settled for a dress shirt and slacks.

His tie remained perfectly in place, however.

Relaxed, but not careless.

Norman Osborn leaned against his desk while reading a printed document.

Even after Henry approached under the butler's guidance, Osborn made no effort to put the papers down.

When they reached an appropriate distance, the butler stopped.

"Master, Mr. Henry Brown has arrived."

"Mhm."

Although he acknowledged the announcement, Norman Osborn continued reading.

Only after several moments did he finally raise his eyes.

He glanced at Henry.

Then immediately spoke.

"Your salary at Stark Pictures was ten million dollars per year, correct?

"I can offer the same.

"In addition, I'll provide housing and transportation.

"The pharmaceutical data and patents you're holding aren't in the same category as digital cinematography technology, so I can't offer identical profit-sharing terms.

"Five percent.

"That's my offer.

"If your conditions differ, now would be the time to state them."

Henry smiled.

"I only want one hundred dollars."

Norman Osborn paused.

He lowered the document and stared directly at Henry.

"One hundred... thousand?

"Million?"

"No, no."

Henry shook his head.

"Just one hundred dollars."

Reaching into his coat, he produced an MD disc and walked over to place it on the desk.

At a time when USB drives and recordable CDs hadn't yet become widespread, MiniDiscs occupied the niche between traditional floppy disks and larger-capacity storage media.

Zip drives had briefly challenged that market a few years earlier, but both technologies would eventually disappear.

For the present era, however, MDs were a practical choice.

As he placed it down, Henry continued.

"I'll accept one one-hundred-dollar bill.

"Or two fifties.

"Five twenties would also be fine.

"Checks and bank transfers are less ideal.

"Unless, of course, you'd prefer to leave a paper trail."

Norman Osborn's expression turned serious.

"You're serious?"

Displaying a broad grin full of oversized teeth, Henry answered:

"I believe someone has already informed you what I actually want.

"If one hundred dollars is too expensive, I'd even accept one dollar.

"Don't worry about patents.

"I never filed any.

"Once you possess the information and submit the patents under Oscorp's name, I doubt anyone would dare challenge your claims."

As he spoke, he gently pushed the MD forward.

Realizing what Henry was truly after, Norman immediately changed tactics.

"Double everything I just offered.

"And stop entertaining these ideas."

Henry sighed regretfully.

"That's unfortunate."

He picked up the MD again.

"Looks like there's no deal."

Then, without hesitation, he snapped the disc in half.

And then in half again.

And again.

He continued breaking it apart until the MiniDisc had been reduced to fragments.

The pieces scattered across the desk.

Without any intention of cleaning up afterward, Henry turned toward the exit.

As he walked, he casually asked:

"I can leave the same way I came in, correct?"

The butler stepped into his path.

One hand remained hidden behind his back, resting on a silent alarm.

If his employer gave the order, armed security would flood the room within seconds.

Yet Norman Osborn merely waved dismissively.

"See him out."

"Yes, Master."

The butler stepped aside.

Norman Osborn didn't return to reading.

Instead, he stared at the broken fragments of the MD scattered across his desk.

A moment later, movement came from among the bookshelves.

A teenage boy emerged.

"Father."

Norman's stern expression softened slightly.

"Harry.

"How long have you been there?"

Holding a book in his hands, the boy replied:

"I'm working on a school project.

"I thought I'd do a literary location study.

"I was looking for suitable material."

He approached the desk.

"Did that man threaten you?"

"Threaten me?"

Norman shook his head.

"Not exactly.

"He merely proposed a condition that would be difficult to satisfy."

Harry frowned.

"You always taught me to choose the option that offers the greatest advantage."

"That's true."

Norman nodded.

"But what should you do when uncertainty is involved?"

The question wasn't purely educational.

As a father, he was testing his son.

At the same time, he genuinely sought direction among several possible courses of action.

Henry Brown had brought a MiniDisc.

But there was no way to know whether its contents would truly benefit him.

And Norman Osborn's interests extended far beyond a simple Alzheimer's treatment.

Harry answered without hesitation.

"If the odds are fifty percent, it's worth gambling.

"If you're always trying to play it safe, then you're not acting like an Osborn.

"And even if we lose this gamble, would it truly shake our family?"

Norman laughed.

"Good answer."

Then he smiled.

"It seems I've lost some of the boldness that comes with youth."

Harry looked puzzled.

"Was I wrong?"

"No."

Norman shook his head.

"Not at all.

"We're Osborns.

"Playing by the rules has never been the family motto."

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