15: Chapter 15 Flame Test

Peter Parker's life was now split in two.

By day, he was a paid genius scientist at the Baxter Building; by night, he was Spider-Man, swinging through the skies of Queens and Manhattan.

Aunt May and Uncle Ben had their complaints about his early departures and late returns, but after he trotted out the excuse that "helping in the lab can save lives," the two elders had no choice but to helplessly compromise.

In reality, Peter spent one hour a day in the Fantastic Four's exclusive laboratory, and the rest of his time was spent on patrol.

Being a hero and doing scientific research—this life was simply perfect.

"Peter, your Aunt May and Uncle Ben don't have any objections, right?" Johnny Storm led Peter into a spacious, independent laboratory.

"It barely passes," Peter shrugged. "They're still mad that I kept it from them, but seeing that I have a proper job at the Baxter Building, they've decided to turn a blind eye."

Johnny Storm patted him on the shoulder. "You should still come clean with them when you have the chance. Welcome to your new territory."

Peter looked around—huge displays, top-tier computers, and a complete set of toolbenches; it was truly a scientist's paradise.

"This is so cool." Peter put down his backpack, his gaze falling on a complex Geiger counter in the corner. "Johnny Storm, do me a favor? I want to test a new theory of mine."

"Test what?"

"Your Fire ability." Peter picked up his tools, skillfully dismantled the counter, and connected a very thin nickel wire to the internal circuit. "Light it up."

"It's called 'Flame On'!" Johnny Storm muttered, his entire body instantly engulfed in scorching flames.

Peter stared at the soaring readings on the Geiger counter, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Perfect."

Johnny Storm extinguished his flames and leaned in to ask, "So? What did you figure out?"

"Your power comes from another dimension." Peter pointed to the modified nickel wire. "Your body is like a reverse sponge, or rather, a one-way valve. You aren't absorbing oxygen from the air to burn; instead, you are radiating energy similar to white phosphorus from within your body. When it comes into contact with the atmosphere of our World, a violent oxidation reaction occurs, manifesting as Fire."

Johnny Storm was dumbfounded. "Holy... Peter, you're amazing! Reed has been studying this for so long and couldn't figure it out, but you actually saw through it! Quick, send the theory to Reed!"

Peter nodded and sent the report. He knew clearly that this theory came from the memories of his past life, but being able to perfectly verify and articulate it was definitely due to the terrifyingly genius brain inside this Peter Parker body.

At dinner, Reed, Susan Storm, and The Thing, Ben Grimm, also heard about this theory. On the surface, Reed was full of praise, but Peter keenly caught a hint of distrust hidden in his tone.

This made him feel somewhat helpless; geniuses are always prone to inviting wariness from their own kind.

As time passed, the name Spider-Man completely exploded in New York.

By stopping a few robberies every day and posing for the cameras, Spider-Man was effectively hyped up by the citizens into an urban legend. At school, the classmates' fanatical pursuit of Spider-Man simply made Peter's scalp tingle.

But he knew in his heart that these petty street crimes simply couldn't satisfy him. He needed bigger targets.

Recently, he had been following the trial of the Grass Stain Gang. With concrete evidence, it was only a matter of time before these guys were put away. To improve his ability to handle big situations, Peter trained hard in swordsmanship and combat with Colleen Wing.

Relying on his eidetic, genius brain, he could memorize complex sword forms in seconds, and his progress was so fast that even Colleen Wing was secretly astonished.

However, what left the deepest impression on him was an "accident" during his patrol last week.

That night, Peter was swinging near Wall Street when he suddenly heard the crisp sound of shattering glass. He looked toward the sound and saw a graceful figure in a black bodysuit and mask nimbly climbing the outer wall of a building.

Black Cat, Felicia.

Peter swung over, landed lightly on the roof in front of her, and wrapped an arm around her waist. The two rolled across the roof, and Peter took the opportunity to pin her beneath him.

"Shouldn't we find a different place for a date?" Peter grinned.

"Spider-Man?" Felicia paused, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

"Just passing by." Peter glanced at her bulging pouch. "Out restocking again?"

"Mind your own business."

"I'm a hero, you're a thief. How does that have nothing to do with me?"

"Sorry, Spider-Man, I don't have time to flirt with you." Felicia suddenly kneed upward, accurately striking Peter in his sensitive spot.

"Hiss—" Peter gasped in pain, curling up. Felicia took the opportunity to break free and ran to the edge of the roof, preparing to jump.

"Trying to run?" Peter endured the sharp pain, raised his hand, and shot a strand of Webbing, snagging her ankle and yanking her back.

Felicia fell onto the roof, pulled out a dagger to cut the Webbing, and chuckled, "This Webbing is pretty expensive, right?"

"As long as you can afford to pay for it." Peter stood up, and the two distanced themselves again.

Felicia initiated the attack, her dagger carving a silver arc. Peter easily sidestepped, caught her wrist, twisted it behind her back, and wrapped his other arm around her waist.

"Felicia, you could totally do something more meaningful." Peter whispered in her ear.

"What makes you think what I do isn't meaningful?"

"Stealing isn't something good people should do."

"Your definition of good and bad is too narrow, Spider-Man. I only steal from those who deserve it."

"Like that small jewelry store?"

"That was a money-laundering den for the Mafia."

"What about that broker on Wall Street whose office you broke into?"

"He's a black-hearted swindler. You think he's clean?"

"So you're a modern-day Robin Hood?"

"No, I just said I steal from the rich; I never said I was going to share it with the poor." Felicia violently broke free from his restraint and kicked him back. She ran to the edge, turned back, and blew a kiss. "See you next time, Spider-Man."

Watching her disappear into the night, Peter rubbed his still-aching sensitive spot and pulled a USB drive from his pocket, the corners of his mouth lifting.

During their close-quarters scuffle just now, he had swiped the USB drive from her pouch.

"We're even." He crushed the USB drive and tossed it into the sewer.

Back at school, Peter felt that nothing was more boring than history class.

He flipped through his textbook, bored, when his gaze suddenly landed on an old photo from World War II. In the photo, Captain America and a group of soldiers were sitting on a crate of bombs labeled "Hitler's Property."

But Peter's attention was entirely on the man standing next to Captain America, who had a Canadian flag badge pinned to his clothes.

He had a beard, was biting on a cigar, and his eyes were wild.

Peter's gaze moved downward to the name label below the photo.

"James Howlett."

Peter's pupils constricted slightly. James Howlett—the real name of Wolverine Logan.

Mutants really do exist in this World!

Countless thoughts flashed through his mind instantly. If Mutants exist, has Professor Charles's school been built? Is Magneto active in public?

No. Mutants are currently still hidden in the shadows, not even counting as urban legends. If the World knew of the existence of Mutants, Spider-Man would have long been classified as a Mutant.

"Peter Parker!" The history teacher's voice interrupted his train of thought.

Peter looked up. "What's wrong?"

"Are you listening? Tell me, who led Hitler's scientific research department?"

"Red Skull." Peter blurted out. "He also renamed that department HYDRA."

"Correct. But Red Skull is just his nickname. What is his real name?"

Peter was stunned for a moment and countered, "His real name isn't Red Skull?"

"That's just a codename. Of course, he has a real name given by his parents."

"But he chose the name 'Red Skull' himself." Peter leaned back in his chair, his tone calm but carrying a hint of defiance. "His parents might have hoped for him to be an Angel, but he chose to be a Nazi who hated the Jews. Since he chose this path, his actions only deserve to be called by the name he chose for himself. His name is, and always will be, Red Skull."

The whole class was silent. The teacher sighed. "A very... unique perspective. Let's continue the lesson."

Peter turned his head and met the gaze of Felicia Hardy.