Schiller leaned against the bedside with his eyes closed, as if taking a nap. With a creak, the door was pushed open. A Spider-Man walked in, saying as he went, "I heard Mr. Stark was sick, so I came to see him. Mr. Stark, are you all ri—oh, sorry."
Spider-Man quickly fell silent. He glanced at Stark, whose face was still somewhat pale on the sickbed, and at Schiller, who seemed to be asleep by the bed, then placed the gift in his hand on the bedside table and tiptoed away.
But just then, a storm of brainwaves surrounded him. Almost in an instant, Spider-Man lost consciousness. When he woke again, he was already on a spaceship, holding a Force Laser Sword in one hand, surrounded entirely by stormtroopers.
"Oh, what the hell? Did I transmigrate?"
Spider-Man instinctively turned his head and looked at the Laser Sword in his hand. Without the slightest stage fright, he flicked the hilt, planted his feet firmly in a horse stance, gripped the sword with both hands, and started hacking. Though he had never learned swordsmanship, he had watched plenty of Star Wars, and when he fought, he actually looked the part.
But more and more stormtroopers closed in around him, and Spider-Man gradually began to struggle. Just as he was about to shoot out webbing and escape the encirclement, he saw another Spider-Man tumble in.
"Mr. Stark, I came to visit you... what the hell???"
"Hey!" Spider-Man shouted at Spider-Man. "Hold on to your sword, Force warrior! Let's cut our way out together!"
After roughly two seconds of dizziness, the Spider-Man who had come in later also raised his sword and started hacking. The two stood back to back, dealing with the many stormtroopers while still not forgetting to exchange information about the