There was no fear, no intimidation, and the lack thereof was not exactly jarring, for Harry had met people that had faced far worse things than himself, in and out of the suit, but something noteworthy. And unlike most people, he would have known: the serum was imperfect in many ways, but it did latch to fear and disquiet and tension like flies to an open wound.
That lack of fear, however, was not exactly unwelcome. Even if it would mean that Harry, just a man in a suit wielding a dagger, might be in more danger. But he too had faced danger, and he knew better than to show it. So instead, he looked at the other up and down, raised an eyebrow.
"No, you don't look like a man who favor knives." He replied, keeping his tone very, very mild. "And you don't look like a man who would just choose a quiet spot on the rooftops randomly, either, and this is my favorite one."
Which was a warning, in a way.
Of course, it helped that the spot was close to Oscorp, away from any and all cameras and easy sight, and sometimes the only place where no-one would go looking for Harry. And sometimes Oscorp was a bit too much: too many heartbeats, too much fear and tension. Too much for the instincts the serum gave him.
