"Yes, Jason, I heard. I agree with you—now isn't a good time to leave the city." Peter paced around the room with the phone in hand. "The roads will definitely be jammed. If that lunatic comes running over with a bomb, none of us will be able to get away."
"I suggest you prepare a First Aid Kit first. Even if the bomb doesn't go off, there could be injuries if a riot breaks out. All right, I understand."
"No." Peter's expression shifted slightly before he said, "After I recovered, that strange strength and precognitive ability disappeared. I guessed the illness might have removed my muscle limiters, but that was abnormal in the end."
"Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing. If I still had those abilities, at least I could protect Gwen and all of you. All right, we really are too old to be thinking about such unrealistic things. Stay safe. Goodbye."
Peter put down the phone and sighed. What Jason had just said reminded him of the past. It had been quite a coincidence: Jason and he had fallen ill one after the other. Jason had lost his memories because of his illness, while Peter had gained tremendous strength because of his. Yet it had vanished soon after he recovered.
But those two illnesses had also made them best friends. For decades, they had watched each other grow up, mature, marry, have children, and settle into stable lives.
After putting down the phone, Peter focused on the news playing on the television in the living room. He had not gone outside because he felt somewhat unwell. An agitated feeling was spreading through his heart, but he could not explain why he was so restless.
Joker appeared on the screen.
He was standing atop a building. The camera