8: Chapter 8, First Case

The new training program had been running for over a week, until this Sunday morning, when something occurred that was enough to shake Peter's worldview.

Uncle Ben was in the living room watching the morning news, which reported a small explosion at the Baxter Building. To Uncle Ben, this might just be a piece of ordinary social news, but to Peter, it was a bolt from the blue.

He had always thought this was just the Marvel Cinematic Universe, meaning only plots from the movies would exist. But now, the Baxter Building was the headquarters of Marvel's First Family.

The Fantastic Four were actually real.

Peter immediately rushed back to his room and opened his computer to search. In this Universe, Reed Richards was only twenty-five, Susan Storm was twenty-two, Johnny Storm was a sixteen-year-old teenager, Ben Grimm was twenty-five, and Victor von Doom was thirty.

This looked like the setting of the Ultimate Universe, but the details were completely different. Reed Richards was smart and calm, and Victor von Doom was already the ruler of his own country at this time. The two were college classmates, and judging by the scientific papers published by Victor von Doom, he didn't respect Reed Richards at all, often mocking him in his articles.

Peter was a bit at a loss for a moment. That was the Fantastic Four; did he need to go help? No, they could take care of themselves perfectly well. Perhaps after he finished his suit, he could go over and say hello, but until then, it was best to lie low.

After dealing with this, Peter enjoyed a rare relaxing Sunday. No training, no homework, and best of all, Aunt May and Uncle Ben were going to visit friends in the afternoon and wouldn't be back until late at night.

He had to make use of this time alone. The top priority was to get the suit done. He opened a shopping website to start picking, but was shocked by the terrible options. They were all disgusting, low-quality materials. He actually wanted a suit of armor more, but after feeling his empty wallet, he had to give up that idea.

Not being able to afford armor didn't mean he had to wear those disgusting spandex suits. He eventually ordered two pieces of fabric, one red and one black. He didn't like the classic red and blue color scheme anyway, so since he was doing this, he might as well go with the Superior Spider-Man route. Red and black it was.

The fabric would take a few days to arrive, which gave him just enough time to learn sewing. He spent an entire morning following tutorials on a video website to learn needlework. This work was extremely boring and didn't require much deep thinking; with his genius brain, mastering it was a breeze.

After Uncle Ben and Aunt May left, Peter changed into clean clothes and went out for some air. He didn't want to be cooped up in the house all day, and besides, he was currently in New York, the greatest city on Earth, so he had to go out and explore properly.

He took the train to Manhattan, enjoying the street views along the way. Although he was as excited as a tourist, he didn't care. He walked all the way to Harlem to see the current situation there.

It was still in ruins. People were still clearing the debris, and although the military had tried its best, the extent of the destruction was still shocking. A new organization called Rebuild Harlem was busy on the scene.

After his curiosity was satisfied, Peter prepared to leave. But when he passed the Apollo Theater, he noticed that the road ahead was still cracked. This was the place where Hulk and Abomination first clashed. Looking along the cracks, he could see that huge crater, which was the spot where Bruce Banner landed and transformed.

Peter approached the crater. Although there were warning lines around it, apparently no one really took them seriously. There were quite a few people taking pictures. He stared quietly at the bottom of the pit, and just as he was about to leave, he caught a glimpse of something pressed under a rock out of the corner of his eye.

He jumped into the pit and carefully moved the heavy rock. Underneath was a brown stain.

It was blood. Hulk's blood.

Peter immediately realized that this thing was extremely dangerous. Not only was it highly volatile, but it could also trigger various bizarre mutations. He remembered in the original work that someone became super intelligent after coming into contact with this blood, and others mutated directly. If this thing seeped into his own body, what would happen?

He was curious. Of course, he wouldn't inject this stuff directly into his body, but he had to figure out its composition.

He stuffed the rock stained with blood into his pocket; it was just the right size. After leaving Harlem, he wandered around the city for another hour before heading home.

Back in the basement laboratory, Peter placed the rock on the table. He scraped off a little of the dried blood into a test tube and began to dilute it. Before long, he had prepared a test tube of diluted Hulk blood sample. He tucked the rock into a hidden compartment under his desk, planning to find a safer place for it later.

Under the microscope, he observed the blood sample. Dried blood usually indicated cell death, but Hulk's cells still maintained amazing activity. He tried dripping in glucose and carbohydrates, and these nutrients were devoured within seconds. This stuff was almost like it was alive.

After finishing the blood experiment, Peter went out again and came to the hangar at the abandoned train station. He climbed over the fence and walked toward the hangar, only to find the door already wide open.

Peter frowned inwardly. He had confirmed the door was locked every time he left; who could be inside? He pushed the hangar door open and walked in, asking aloud, "Is anyone there?"

"What the hell?" An exclamation came from deep within the hangar. Two people walked out from behind a pile of iron beams—Flash and Liz Allan, followed closely by Harry Osborn and Mary Jane. The four of them saw Peter standing there, their faces full of astonishment.

"Parker?!" Flash growled viciously, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Peter raised an eyebrow: "Painting the ceiling. What else would you be here for?"

"Hey, Pete!" Harry Osborn waved at him with a smile, putting on the appearance that the two were still good brothers—come to think of it, they really were before, but they hadn't been for a long time. It was likely he had brought this group here; Peter remembered that Harry Osborn and he had discovered this place together in their early years. "I just brought my friends to see this great place! Didn't expect you to still come here!"

Peter felt a shiver in his heart and replied perfunctorily: "Occasionally." He glanced sideways; Mary Jane was blushing, and he couldn't help but squint. Looking at Liz Allan, her hair was messy, she looked annoyed, and Flash's face was livid.

Peter realized instantly: "Oh—so you guys are here to hook up, got it."

Liz Allan's face flushed red instantly: "What?! No! Can you keep your mind clean, Parker!"

Peter shrugged: "That doesn't carry much weight coming from someone who looks like they've just been thrown into a washing machine." He swept his gaze toward Mary Jane, whose face turned even redder. "Fine, well congratulations, I won't disturb you. Remember to lock the door when you're done."

He turned to leave, when Mary Jane suddenly spoke up: "Wait, Peter." She glanced nervously at Harry Osborn, "I should go too, my aunt will be worried about me."

Harry Osborn looked hurt: "What? Are you serious? We just got here."

"Yeah, sorry. See you at school, Harry Osborn, bye Liz Allan, bye Flash." As soon as she finished speaking, she rushed out of the hangar as if fleeing.

Peter sighed and followed her out. When they reached the fence, he gave Mary Jane a boost to climb over. On the way back, Peter finally asked: "So... you and Harry Osborn, right?"

Mary Jane's eyes widened instantly: "What? No!"

Peter rolled his eyes: "You don't need to lie, Mary Jane. I don't care who you're with at all; that's your business, it has nothing to do with me."

Mary Jane averted her gaze and walked home in silence. To be honest, Peter didn't want to get involved, but she looked so unsettled that he couldn't help but wonder if something had happened between her and Harry Osborn.

"He... he thought I wanted to hook up." After a long silence, Mary Jane finally spoke.

Peter raised an eyebrow: "Oh? Why would he think that?"

Mary Jane shook her head: "I don't know."

"Mary Jane... did he force you to do anything?" Peter stopped and asked her.

"What? No! He didn't do anything! It's just..." She looked guilty, "Maybe I acted in a way that made him misunderstand. I... actually, it's my fault, I'll go apologize to him tomorrow."

Peter looked at her, appearing dejected and submissive. She was like a different person from the vibrant, cheerful girl he had known when he first transmigrated into Peter Parker, devoid of any vitality. It made him feel stifled.

"Don't apologize." Peter said, and Mary Jane looked up at him, surprised. He explained: "He crossed the line, he made you uncomfortable; he's the one who should apologize, not you. Harry Osborn... he was a friend, I suppose, but now he's just a jerk who wants everything his way. Don't spoil him."

Mary Jane was stunned, but nodded silently. The two walked to near her house, and when they reached the intersection where they had to part ways, she finally said softly: "Peter... thank you, it's a good thing you showed up. I... I know I haven't paid much attention to you lately, I—"

"That's enough." Peter interrupted her, getting angry just thinking about her submissive apology, "It's fine, hurry home. Remember, don't let him bully you."

"Peter, I really want to apologize. I know I haven't been paying attention to you at school lately, and I feel bad about it. I'm sorry."

Peter shrugged: "It's fine, I don't care." After saying that, he turned and left.

Mary Jane called out from behind: "Peter?"

Peter wished her good night without looking back, and after entering the house, he slammed the door shut.

He didn't know if he had been too hostile just now, even failing to use that affectionate nickname. But his heart truly hurt; the pain was incredibly real, and damn teenage hormones were torturing him.

The next two weeks flew by, ridiculously fast. Training, sneaking off to the rail yard for extra practice, learning things desperately, and making the Spider-Man suit filled Peter's time completely.

Starting from the second week, Colleen Wing noticeably increased the workload for Peter. She probably saw that Peter had talent and might become one of her best students. She moved Peter to the advanced class, finding ways to force him to learn more moves. Peter had never used his full strength, but he gradually understood why The Hand felt comfortable letting her train reserve members.

School life remained dull and boring. When he encountered classes he felt were useless, or content he already knew, Peter would take out other books to self-study. He could already have daily conversations in French, and he planned to start learning Spanish.

However, Peter did devour quite a bit of Reed Richards' theories; they were truly interesting. They were all about different dimensions and methods for opening dimensional portals. He had known these things for a long time, of course, after all, he was from another World, but seeing concrete scientific arguments still felt incredible.

The solo training at the rail yard became increasingly challenging. Peter forced himself again and again to break through his physical limits, testing how far he could jump, how much he could carry, and what level his flexibility and sense of balance had reached.

He was getting stronger bit by bit, and thanks to his super regenerative ability, he could be exhausted from training one day and fully recovered the next; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say this was cheating.

Finally, the fabric Peter ordered for the suit arrived.

The style followed the classic version, only replacing the blue with black. He had to sew the web pattern himself; he cut the black spandex fabric into thin strips and sewed them onto the red fabric to piece together the pattern. He also cut off the useless fabric from the lower half of the red suit to make gloves and leg warmers, and even sewed anti-slip pads on the soles.

This suit was in two pieces: the upper body was mainly red, with black fabric spliced on the sides and back; the lower body was all black, paired with red high-top boot covers. He also modified the mask so it wouldn't stick tightly to his face, cutting out eye holes and embedding lenses from an old pair of glasses as goggles.

When Peter put on the suit and stood in front of the mirror, he gasped on the spot.

To be honest... it was ugly as hell. It was incredibly shabby, like a child's doodle on a napkin. The stitches were crooked, and the dimensions were a complete mess.

He was simply not cut out to be a tailor; struggling with this for so long was a total waste of time.

Peter shoved this failure into the hidden compartment under the floor—that was where he hid sensitive things, and the rock stained with Hulk's blood was also there.

He didn't know what he was expecting. He didn't know how the original Peter made his suit, but his own needlework skills were terrible. If he couldn't make a good-looking suit, he would just focus on the Web-shooters for now.

Come to think of it, the progress on the shooters was quite smooth. Peter made a bracelet-style base that could be worn directly on his wrist. The core firing mechanism was the key; he added a knob on top to adjust the shooting pressure of the Webbing, so he could shoot different types of Webbing. It was indeed troublesome to make, but absolutely worth it.

It was the weekend again, and Peter took the train to the dojo. Usually, weekends were for rest, but Colleen Wing said there were other arrangements, telling him to be prepared to participate in training closer to actual combat.

Walking to the building he knew all too well, Peter saw several classmates already waiting. He had a particularly deep impression of one named Marcus, a Black boy. Peter remembered seeing him in the Iron Fist show; he would later join The Hand, but for now, he was just a half-grown kid.

"Peter, over here!" Marcus waved at him.

"Hi, Marcus." Peter nodded and greeted the others, who only nodded in response. "Does anyone know what we're training today?"

"The teacher didn't tell you?" asked a girl named Agatha, whom everyone called Aji.

Peter shrugged: "Just said it was interactive training."

"That's how it is, we're going to 'rob' the teacher." Marcus explained.

Peter blinked: "You're crazy, kid? What are you talking about?"

The kids around laughed, and Marcus explained further. Colleen Wing was teaching them combat skills, which essentially meant training a group of people to team up and surround a target. The others all thought this was just practicing stealth and team coordination, but Peter knew clearly—this was fundamentally assassin training for The Hand, cultivating future killers.

"So where is the teacher?" Peter asked.

"Teacher Wing is hiding somewhere in the city. Our mission is to find her, catch her by surprise, take her sword, and then run back to the dojo before she catches up to us. As long as we can make it back safely, we win!"

Peter could almost see what the future looked like: by then, it wouldn't be hide-and-seek, it would be locating and eliminating; running back to the dojo would also become retreating to an extraction point. These people from The Hand were truly both smart and twisted.

After waiting for another hour, almost everyone had arrived, and they started splitting into groups. Usually, it was free grouping, but Peter was a newcomer after all, with no experience, so he was assigned to a group with Marcus, a boy named Brandon, and Aji.

The four of them planned to look for clues nearby first. Most of the other groups ran around blindly, but Marcus insisted on checking the places Colleen Wing frequented first. As a result, they wasted an hour in vain; who knew if Colleen Wing had gone to Harlem, downtown, or just ran off to Queens.

At this moment, Peter suddenly had an idea. He asked himself in his heart: What would Batman do? How would he track the Joker?

He had the answer.

Put himself in the target's mindset. So Peter started to deduce from Colleen Wing's perspective: What was her goal? To train students. She certainly wouldn't go too far; she had to choose an open place where a woman with a sword wouldn't look out of place, while also preventing students from succeeding with a sneak attack.