Chapter 88: False and True Harry

The next day, at the church.

On weekend mornings, the church was filled with solemnity.

"Let us pray for her, for both men and women are like flowers in the valley, blooming today but may wither tomorrow. Human life is like a season, here today and gone tomorrow. Let us pray."

After the pastor finished his prayer, he said, "Could the pallbearers come forward, please?"

Peter sat in the front row of the church, next to Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

Upon hearing the pastor's words, Uncle Ben stood up and walked to the front.

The deceased was a relative of the Parker family, a young girl who died from a brain hemorrhage.

Uncle Ben received the news a few days ago and had originally planned to come with Aunt May.

But at Peter's insistence, he brought his nephew along.

As for Peter's insistence, it was naturally because he was worried that Helen might harm Uncle Ben and Aunt May.

After experiencing what happened last night, he began to believe that Helen had established some kind of connection with the alien creature inside him.

And the worst result would be if the other party were parasitized too.

So, was that viscous substance he spat out himself?

Moreover, would the alien embryo inside him evolve?

His tail pierced the heart of the vampire last night.

Lost in thought, he took out his phone and searched for the name of the bar from yesterday.

To see if he could figure out what kind of existence Helen had visited that bar.

Just as he was searching, Gwen called him, asking where he was.

After hesitating for a moment, he told Gwen his location.

After hanging up the phone, Peter looked up at the church window.

The cross hanging above was particularly dazzling in the sunlight.

The searches related to "Devil's Island Bar" yielded only mundane information.

It seemed to be just like any other bar in New York.

As Uncle Ben and the other three were preparing to lift the gray coffin, Gwen also arrived at the church.

Gwen was wearing a light blue dress, influenced by the atmosphere of the church, her face remained tense.

"Tomorrow and accidents, we never know who will come first."

After Gwen greeted Aunt May, she sat down and, after watching the funeral for a while, whispered to Peter, "Yesterday on the road, I almost got hit by a car."

She remembered yesterday, when a black car was heading straight towards her.

If she hadn't had superpowers, she might really have had an accident.

"But I'm okay, my luck was good enough."

Seeing Peter's surprised look, Gwen quickly explained that she was fine.

She was about to say something when the pallbearers were ready, and the crowd began to stand up.

Uncle Ben and the other three lifted the coffin and started walking out along the coal-strewn path.

The other people in the small chapel also followed suit.

Gwen accompanied Peter and followed the crowd outside.

"Actually, Gwen," Peter said to Gwen, "you don't have to come. This kind of heavy atmosphere doesn't suit you."

"I'm not that fragile."

Gwen said lightly, "Peter, just because I said death always favors Gwen, doesn't mean I should stay away from funerals and the like."

"It also represents a kind of solace for us, doesn't it? Mourning for the deceased, although occasionally it makes me feel a kind of awe, silent unrest."

Gwen expressed her feelings, then asked Peter, "Do you think funerals are heavy, Peter?"

"I'm more rational."

Peter glanced at the Cadillac hearse parked on the side of the road, then said, "I've always thought funerals are a kind of decryption of death."

"Why do you say that?"

"Some people see a lot at funerals, like the one who buried Hitler, the one who dissected John Wilkes Booth's body, the one who cleaned up the forty funeral workers in Jonestown, and the one who put Alexander the Great's body in a gold coffin to prevent decay."

Peter's thoughts turned to last night, to the vampire he had killed.

Some secrets about death he saw while dealing with that resurrected corpse.

Gwen nodded, finding some truth in his words.

"Perhaps you're right, Peter, but those secrets of death may be buried forever. These people didn't write books to reveal the secrets."

Gwen didn't notice Peter's expression. Suddenly she remembered the most important thing and hadn't told Peter yet.

"I saw Harry today."

Frowning, Gwen said to Peter, "But he seemed a bit off."

"How so?"

"I don't know how to describe it. Harry greeted me charmingly, dressed like an upper-class gentleman, speaking with the same tone as his father, boasting about the great achievements he's made for Osborn, how he's made Osborn even greater, and so on."

Peter asked her, "Isn't that good?"

"I'm not saying it's not good. This kind of behavior is fine for any wealthy guy, but the key issue is that Harry is different."

Gwen exhaled and said to Peter, "He's not the kind of person who would immerse himself in business and success. He's just an ordinary guy. I mean, he never distanced himself from others as a rich kid, coldly packaging himself as someone chasing success. That's not Harry."

Peter fell silent for a moment after hearing this and said, "People change, Gwen."

"But can't change overnight, can they?"

Gwen said in frustration, "He seems like a different person, maybe something happened behind the scenes that we don't know about."

Peter nodded and asked Gwen, "Which state of Harry do you think is better?"

Gwen hesitated for a moment, thought about it, and said, "It seems like he's more cheerful now. He used to always seem troubled, as if worrying about something, but..."

After hesitating for a moment, Gwen said, "Maybe that's false. No matter how happy he seems, it can't be genuine. How can someone forget all the pain?"

Nighttime.

Osborn Manor.

Harry greeted his father in the living room.

"Hey, Dad."

Norman patted Harry on the shoulder and said satisfactorily, "I heard you've been doing great at the company, Harry."

"I'm trying to learn some operational management methods of the company. Although I don't know how effective it is, it's a try."

Harry said to his father, "I enjoy trying."

"Good, go rest."

Watching Harry walk upstairs, Norman's expression became serious.

He said to the butler, "Good, continue to administer the drugs to Harry."