At the stump of Professor Connors' severed right arm, flesh began to regenerate at a startling speed. Bones, blood vessels, and muscles knit together almost in the blink of an eye.
The next moment, his skin darkened to a sickly green, splitting inch by inch to reveal rapidly multiplying scales beneath.
The transformed professor thrashed wildly. The restraints dug deep into his scaly, muscular limbs, and his massive body strained the metal chair, which creaked and groaned under the pressure.
The instant Professor Connors became the Lizard, the Hulk clenched his fists, his muscles visibly tensing, as if eager to brawl with the four-meter-long reptilian monstrosity.
The Lizard's transformation had been triggered by the Hulk's presence, and now its cold, golden slit-pupil eyes locked onto the green giant, baring rows of razor-sharp teeth in a guttural roar.
"Hmph."
The Hulk let out a grunt through his nose, ready to throw a punch at the Lizard without hesitation. But before he could act, Batman's low, commanding voice cut through the air:
"Hulk. Now is not the time to fight."
The Hulk whipped his head toward Batman, his displeasure plain on his face.
Batman's white-lensed eyes met the Hulk's disgruntled stare without flinching, his voice steady and unwavering:
"Your strength is our last line of defense to prevent the Lizard from causing a disaster. I need you to hold that line, not act like some common thug."
From his earlier analysis of the Hulk, Batman had concluded that the green giant was a highly emotional being. Acknowledgment was a powerful tool to manage such volatile temperaments.
In his words, Batman deliberately elevated the Hulk's role, making him feel valued and entrusted with a critical responsibility.
The tactic worked like a charm. The scowl on the Hulk's massive green face softened almost instantly, and his bared teeth disappeared behind closed lips.
"Hulk's not stupid," the green giant rumbled, his clenched fists slowly relaxing. "Hulk will hold the line."
Batman gave a barely perceptible nod.
Of course, he hadn't truly designated the Hulk as the final line of defense. Half of his words were meant to placate the green giant, and the effect was undeniably effective.
Dr. Otto Octavius, mustering his courage, approached with a large syringe prepared in advance.
Just as he moved to insert the needle into a gap between the Lizard's gray-green scales to draw a blood sample, the creature's struggles intensified. The restraints binding it let out a series of tearing sounds.
If the Lizard kept thrashing like this, it would break free in minutes.
Even with the Hulk present and Batman's contingencies in place, a fight would be inevitable.
"Hmph."
The Hulk snorted again, stomping over to the back of the metal chair. With one swift motion, he grabbed the Lizard's thrashing, thick tail.
Crack! Crack!
The sounds of snapping bones and shattering scales filled the air as the Hulk brutally tore off a section of the Lizard's tail. Blood splattered across the floor.
The Lizard opened its gaping maw and let out a deafening roar, startling flocks of birds into flight from the trees of the South Brother Island. Its golden pupils narrowed to razor-thin slits, glaring venomously at the Hulk:
"You brainless beast, you overgrown frog! I'll find a way to kill you, roar!"
Four days ago, at the Oscorp facility, the Lizard had severed its own tail to escape the Hulk's grasp—an instinctual act of survival.
But this time, the tail had been violently ripped off, a sensation far different from self-amputation.
Pain, humiliation, and rage intertwined. The Lizard's words were a deliberate attempt to provoke the Hulk.
The moment those words left its mouth, Dr. Otto Octavius, who had been poised with the oversized syringe, stumbled back several steps, nearly retreating to the lab's exit.
Batman subtly shifted one hand behind his back, ready to respond to an enraged Hulk or a frenzied Lizard.
He had already envisioned the worst-case scenario and prepared partial contingencies. This wasn't yet the direst situation he'd anticipated.
But the Hulk didn't take the bait. He merely looked at the struggling Lizard with disdain, tossing the writhing tail segment behind him. It landed with a wet thud on the floor.
"Pathetic big lizard," the Hulk said.
He wasn't provoked by the Lizard's taunts, though his face briefly showed irritation at being called an overgrown frog.
More than that, he felt a sense of responsibility from the role Batman had assigned him, coupled with the smug satisfaction of standing unbound while the Lizard remained restrained.
Batman quietly lowered the hand he'd placed behind his back.
Tap, tap, tap…
Dr. Otto Octavius hurried over, abandoning the oversized syringe to cautiously prod the severed tail segment on the floor.
The Lizard's current state made it impossible to conduct human-form tests or scans, but this tail fragment would yield nearly as much data.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Three batarangs shot from Batman's hand, embedding themselves on either side and above the Lizard's head. Potent sedative gas rapidly dispersed from the projectiles.
The Lizard's thrashing subsided slightly, and the stump of its severed tail began to clot, heal, and sprout new tissue.
In mere moments, the Lizard's tail had fully regenerated.
"Professor Connors, I know you're in there. Look at me," Batman said, his voice low and deliberate.
The Lizard's cold, golden slit-pupils shifted from the Hulk to Batman, who had retracted his white lenses, revealing dark, unshielded eyes that locked onto the creature:
"No matter what you've become, never forget who you are."
"You're the scientist who dreamed of freeing the world from disability. You're the leading authority in reptilian biology. You're the scholar who, even in the face of danger, worked tirelessly to create a stabilizer to save those suffering from organ failure…"
"You are Curt Connors, a proud biologist, not a beast ruled by savagery and instinct."
The Lizard and the Hulk—two scientists capable of transforming into monsters. Yet Batman employed entirely different strategies for each.
With the Hulk, he offered respect, treating him as an independent entity.
But based on the Lizard's behavior at Oscorp, where he briefly reverted to human form, Batman knew that beneath the frenzied exterior of this reptilian creature was still the compassionate, kind scientist Curt Connors.
The Lizard's struggles ceased. Though it still bared its teeth and hissed menacingly at Batman, a flicker of human confusion passed through its golden slit-pupils.
"Professor, I believe you can master this power, become its ruler, not its slave."
Batman repeated his words, guiding the Lizard patiently, as if the terrifying beast before him were not a monster but the respected scientist whose life had been upended by a tragic accident.