"Put out the fire! Put it out now!!"
The firefighters rushed in—some extinguishing the blaze, others trying to rescue people inside.
As for me, I didn't know what to say.
I'd barely stepped outside, and now the police headquarters was on fire. I wasn't sure if it was my bad luck or if I was being targeted.
Either way, it felt just as bad.
[Hey kid, why's the police station burning?] Tony's voice came through the phone.
"...Uh, well, it's all because of Nya."
[???] Nya looked confused.
[If you caused it, you're paying for it. This station might not be mine, but it's government property—and I don't like getting involved with government stuff.]
"Uhhh..."
I immediately turned to Gwen.
She was dumping a bucket of water on the fire—and yeah, the flames spread even more.
"Weird, why isn't it going out?" Gwen scratched her head.
"BECAUSE YOU USED GASOLINE, YOU IDIOT!" a nearby cop shouted.
"What's the big deal? It creates demand for solutions—that's how capitalism works, right?" Gwen said bluntly.
"YOU'RE MAKING LIVES DISAPPEAR!!"
I wondered how she paid taxes. Or if she was the tax collector.
Suddenly, a shadowy figure darted past all of us.
"?!"
I looked back—just in time to see long black hair vanish into a dark alley.
'Who was that?! Could it be??'
I grabbed a cardboard box, put it over my head, and shot a web up to the nearby building.
"Huh? Who's that?" A cop saw the cardboard-headed guy swinging webs with expert skill.
As soon as I looked down, the figure was gone.
"That fast?? Quicksilver? The Flash??"
[Probably another speedster.]
"Hope not. I really don't want to deal with a speed-based enemy."
Sighing, I dropped down and pulled the box off my head.
"Huh? Where'd he go?" The cop saw the cardboard guy had vanished.
Are you kidding? I just took it off. Definitely Nya's fault.
[I hate you.]
I looked back at the burning police station and thought of those two guys.
"...I don't know who did it, but I'm definitely not gonna be happy when I meet the culprit."
Breaking a few bones would be the *least* of it. I'm not Batman, but I'm not as merciful as Spider-Men from other universes either.
And "no killing" isn't my rule—it's a warning to my enemies.
Especially after seeing how good-hearted Spider-Men always get crushed. I can be good, but I'm still human.
Or maybe Uncle Ben hasn't died yet, so I haven't truly become Spider-Man. Most Spider-Men are good.
Well... *most* of them.
"Come on, Gwen." I grabbed her by the collar, lifting her off the ground.
"Sorry and goodbye." I bowed to the cop and left.
***
"Custavos Fried Chicken is now perfected! Crispier, more perfect, and most importantly... more addictive!" Harry announced to the class.
"How addictive are we talking?" another student asked.
"Like this." Harry pointed to the crowd after eating the chicken—they were lying on the ground, drooling uncontrollably and twitching.
Are you selling drugs to students, Jodio Joestar?
"We can sell it—and since it's so good, we should charge a premium," Gus Fried calculated, his middle finger and thumb rubbing together every second.
"Very capitalist. I like it. If old people or kids buy it, double the price!"
"And for the homeless? Ten times! Let them drown in debt!"
Harry, just change your name to Heisenberg already. Evil has limits.
"Oh! Peter, over here!" Harry spotted me and Gwen returning to school and waved.
"...What?" I was in a bad mood. Harry came over, slung an arm around my shoulder, and led me to our class's Custavos Fried Chicken stall.
"Since you're my best friend, I made you a special no-candy Custavos chicken!"
"What's in it?"
"Nicotine."
"Are you trying to kill me?"
These people are something else...
"Oh, Peter! Long time no see!"
A man's voice rang out.
"...Mr. Otto."
"Hmm? Why the long face?"
Mr. Otto was the same as ever, but the mechanical tentacles behind him were holding documents and food for him.
...Damn, I wish I had that syringe. Mr. Otto could help me.
Too late now. My own stupidity.
"..." Otto saw my expression and came over, putting an arm around my shoulder.
"Kids, I'll talk to Peter for a bit."
We walked away, leaving Harry, Gwen, and the class behind.
"Now... Want to try some?" Harry offered Gwen.
"I don't eat fried chicken. Too fatty." Gwen refused outright and walked off.
"...Why do I feel like I barely get any screen time?" Harry scratched his head.
In a secluded spot, Otto turned to me.
"Spit it out. Teachers are supposed to listen to students' complaints."
"...I don't know."
"Don't know what?"
"Just..."
So I told him everything.
"..." Otto's face scrunched up. He put a hand to his chin, stared at me, and said nothing.
Does he know something?
"Peter, I advise you to stay out of this."
"...Why?"
"Because I think I know who's behind it."
I froze, staring at Otto.
"So—"
"Their influence is only slightly less than Stark Industries, but that doesn't mean they don't know how to fight back."
"That's why you're stopping me."
"No. It's worse."
Otto pointed to his mechanical tentacles.
"I built these, but they funded them."
What does that have to do with my story?
"And the problem is—before I gained control, they affected my personality."
"And you know what they did when I couldn't control them?"
"?"
"They decided to turn me into a lab rat. After I'd dedicated over a decade to them."
"...Meaning?"
"Yeah. If they don't even value basic human rights, who knows what they'll do if you keep sticking your nose in?"
"But how are you still safe and teaching?"
Otto scratched his head.
"Well... How do I put this? I wasn't planning to say this yet... Fine, you'd never guess anyway."
He pulled out a card. I recognized it instantly.
A Stark Industries employee ID.
"What?! You're—?!"
"Yeah. I'm a scientist and employee at Stark Industries. The reason I'm here is... well... Mr. Stark asked me to keep an eye on you."
...
Running out of people to pick, so they chose Otto?
"I'm grateful to Mr. Stark for saving me from them. I know he's using me, but he treats me decently. Good insurance, paid leave—so I don't complain. And those guys can't touch me anymore, so I'm pretty free." Otto smiled.
"So how did you gain control of the tentacles?"
"All thanks to Mr. Stark. I'm a genius but too arrogant. He's more arrogant but an even bigger genius. Get it?"
No, I don't get a damn thing.
"Anyway, calm down and take a deep breath. I like you better this way. Don't let hatred or heroic ideals make everything around you disappear. And if you must get revenge—wait. Patience is a virtue." He patted my shoulder.
"I don't want to wait..." I frowned and sighed.
If I don't act now, things could get worse. You have to cut the root, not let the tree grow.
"Oh, by the way... That organization you mentioned... Which one is it?" I asked curiously.
"...Best to keep quiet after hearing this. Even Mr. Stark couldn't save you if they knew you had bad intentions toward them."
"I'm smart enough."
Otto looked me dead in the eyes and slowly said:
"New York's second-largest corporation. Government-backed. Leader in pharmaceuticals, second in tech... Oscorp."