Peter Parker, wearing a backpack, hurried across the street and caught the last bus headed for the edge of the Bronx just before the doors closed.
Don't get the wrong idea—it wasn't late at night. Superpower Users were a minority, after all, and ordinary people hardly dared to move around this area after dark, so the last bus here ran at three in the afternoon.
After getting on, Peter immediately swung his backpack around to his front, resting One Hand on the zipper and supporting the middle of the bag with the other as he sat near the rear door.
A Black man and Big Beard seated at the front saw his posture and looked away. Clearly, they could tell he was a genuine local. He was white, but perhaps from Queens. That place wasn't much better than the Bronx.
The bus rattled its way to the stop. Peter got off, waited for everyone else to leave, looked around, and only when he saw no one nearby did he take out a few coins and toss them to the homeless man lying against the bus stop sign.
"Wait, don't leave yet." Bruce's voice came through his earpiece. "Ask him where you can buy weed. Get some and burn it, let the smell cling to you. Otherwise, the people there won't believe you."
Peter didn't make a fuss. He merely lowered his voice in surprise. "Do we really need to go into that much detail? I don't think they'd care whether I'm an addict."
"Being careful is always better. If you really hate the smell, smoking a cigarette will do."
Peter looked around again and said, "No need to make it so complicated. I remember there's a place nearby where homeless people get food. If I stand in line there for