Peter Parker's Good Habits

Kraft didn't know if it was the black police officer acting on his own or the person behind the earpiece controlling him, but he definitely couldn't sell it.

"I'm afraid that won't do," Kraft said, shrugging and continuing his spiel. "This bug has a fatal flaw: its own signal isn't strong. It needs a large receiving station to work. I can only receive the information it transmits in my lab, and that receiving station is not only expensive to build, but each one can only correspond to a single bug. So, this thing is actually a failure."

This wasn't Kraft lying. The bugs he made himself naturally didn't have these drawbacks; they were small, light, and had a strong signal. However, the bugs made by others following Kraft's instructions had terrible signal strength, making a large receiving station necessary. Of course, if the distance was short, it wouldn't matter, but then there wouldn't be much difference from bugs on the market.

After a pause, Kraft continued, "However, if you police are willing to spend money, I can make one for you. I just don't think it's cost-effective."

"Ah, alright then," the black police officer shrugged. "I'll report it to our boss later. Whether he's willing to pay for it isn't something I, a junior officer, can decide."

Flipping to a new page in his filled notebook, the black police officer continued, "What about the skateboard you used to get here? The solar-powered skateboards on the market aren't that fast."

"It's for safety reasons..." Kraft looked at the black police officer as if he were an idiot. "Most users of solar-powered skateboards and wheelchairs are minors or people with disabilities. If the speed limit is enabled, what happens if they get into an accident? Do you believe the lawsuits alone could bankrupt Dream Corp?"

"Uh... well, you do have a point..."

The black police officer scratched his bald head, seemingly agreeing with Kraft's reasoning.

"And what about that pacemaker you used to save Mr. Parker? Is that your invention too?"

"Yes, a portable pacemaker. Unfortunately, it has a major flaw and can't be sold."

"A major flaw? Didn't you just save Mr. Parker with it?"

The black police officer asked curiously.

"Uh... I can only say that Uncle Ben was indeed very lucky." Kraft chuckled awkwardly and touched his nose. "That thing isn't very stable yet. It might explode."

"Explode?!"

Before the black police officer could react, Peter Parker, standing beside him, jumped up.

"How dare you use something so dangerous on Uncle Ben!"

"Nonsense! Uncle Ben wasn't breathing! What else could I have done but take this risk?!"

Kraft roared back indignantly, and Peter Parker deflated once more.

After all, Uncle Ben had been saved by Kraft, and he had risked an explosion to save him. Peter, being in the wrong, had no standing to blame Kraft.

Realizing this, Peter Parker meekly apologized and thanked him again. "Sorry, Kraft. Thank you so much."

However, Kraft didn't give him a good look. Instead, he turned to the black police officer and, following Angela's plan, began to actively promote the Goblin Pacemaker XL.

"Actually, if you police want it, there's no problem. Although it's a little dangerous, it still has a chance of saving someone in a critical moment."

Kraft held up his thumb and index finger to indicate a small size.

"This thing might blow off a finger or two at most, and cause some minor burns. If you wear protective gloves when using it, you can easily solve this problem."

"Ahahaha... let's forget about that," the black police officer replied with a dry laugh, refusing Kraft's sales pitch. "Although we NYPD officers work hard, we mostly deal with trivial matters and rarely encounter life-threatening situations. We probably won't need your portable pacemaker."

"Is that so? As you wish," Kraft said, shrugging indifferently. "If you ever need it, feel free to contact me again."

The police's refusal was actually something Angela had calculated long ago. Even if they needed emergency medical intervention, they wouldn't use something that could explode. If the public found out, the New York Police Commissioner and those in charge wouldn't come out unscathed. As for the military or special agent organizations hidden behind the scenes, they wouldn't be lacking a life-saving method with such a fatal flaw.

"Alright then." The black police officer closed his notebook and took out a small booklet from his pocket, handing it and a pen to Kraft. "Please sign it and write that it's a gift for Hawk and Andy. If possible, add the phrase 'You have a good father'."

With such familiarity and audacity, this police officer must have a very high percentage of Black heritage.

Casually sneering inwardly, Kraft still wrote everything as the black police officer had requested. Compared to most Black fathers, the Black man before him, being a police officer and remembering his children's preferences, was indeed a good father.

However, Kraft was a little surprised. He hadn't asked about the adrenaline. Perhaps the hospital hadn't discovered the special nature of the adrenaline he injected? It seemed the medical standards of this hospital, or rather, the technical level of the intelligence department behind it, were just average.

After the black police officer left, Kraft tilted his chin up and looked at Peter Parker, who was looking anxious.

"You've gotten quite brave, Peter, going into underground fighting? I'm definitely telling Aunt May and Uncle Ben. You're dead!"

"Don't do that, Kraft!"

Peter Parker smiled ingratiatingly at him.

"There's no need to tell them about such a small matter, is there? I just wanted to help with household expenses. Who knew this would happen..."

"Hmph! I heard that you had the ability to get your salary back directly, but you didn't dare to do it yourself. Instead, you let a robber vent your anger for you. You're really something, Peter Parker!"

"But... wouldn't that make me the same as that robber..."

Peter weakly tried to retort. To be honest, he was a little surprised that Kraft hadn't pursued the matter of him intentionally letting the robber go, and he was secretly relieved. Compared to being called useless by Kraft...

Ah, he was already used to this kind of thing.

"Are you stupid?!" Kraft pointed at his nose and cursed. "That's money you earned! How can it be the same?! Even if you sue all the way to the ends of the earth, you'll still be in the right!"

Although Peter Parker felt that the court wouldn't accept cases related to underground fighting, he wisely didn't argue back. Instead, he hunched his neck like a quail, putting on a wronged expression.

This made Kraft's blood boil.

"I don't care why you've become so good at fighting. If you drag Uncle Ben or Aunt May into this kind of nonsense again, I'll teach you a lesson! Don't think I can't do anything to you just because you've gained some abilities!"

Kraft turned on the switch of his wristband in front of Peter Parker and then smashed the table next to him in half with one palm.

"Did you hear me?!"

"Y-yes, I heard you!"

Although in Peter Parker's eyes, this level of strength wasn't much, he was still startled by Kraft's invention. Moreover, he was indeed in the wrong in this matter, and he had too many handles for Kraft to exploit. He could only obediently concede.

After all, this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He was used to it.