Let's Go Over It Again

"Okay, let's go over it again."

In the afternoon in New York, sunlight streamed through shattered skyscrapers onto the ruins. Damage Control, sponsored by Stark, was busy cleaning up the aftermath of the alien invasion. Heavy trucks rumbled past, hauling Chitauri remnants out of the wreckage. Stan Lee, who was sweeping the street, suddenly felt a shadow fall over his head. He looked up, adjusted his hat, and muttered, "What the hell—"

A red-and-blue figure was swinging lightly through the skies above New York.

"My name is Peter Parker. A few months ago, at the Osborn Tech Expo, a radioactive spider bit me and changed my life. And now, I'm the world's only Spider-Man—I mean, in 2012, where would any other Spider-Men come from?"

His suit was primarily red, with blue along both sides of his waist and lower body. Fine black nylon cords formed embossed web patterns. The black spider emblem on his chest looked vicious and realistic, a stark contrast to the round, adorable chubby spider on his back. The narrow black eye lenses on his mask looked lively, yet carried a faint hint of menace.

"And now, I'm New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!"

At that moment, an angry voice rang out from an electronic screen at the street corner, echoing through the ruins.

"Spider-Man is undoubtedly the greatest threat the Avengers should be concerned about! This masked criminal has appeared repeatedly at uncleared alien battlefield ruins. He absolutely has something to do with the recent alien weapon smuggling cases at New York crime scenes!"

"Enough, J. Jonah Jameson! Your conspiracy theories need a rest!" With a flick of his wrist, Spider-Man shot a strand of webbing that accurately plastered itself over the host's mouth on the screen. Yet the TV station owner, who looked remarkably like Omni-Man, continued rambling on.

"Without a doubt, this masked bug is the mastermind digging these weapons out of the ruins and selling them on the black market!"

"Why can't you praise me like you praise Captain America? Even just a little?" Spider-Man shrugged helplessly. "Fine, I admit I'm not as good as Captain America, but you could praise me in a slightly less exaggerated way. Also, Daily Bugle Media? Seriously? It doesn't sound as good as Daily Bugle Daily. Where were we?"

"Oh, right, you all know what happened next—great power comes with great responsibility. Then I became everyone's friendly neighborhood guy. Everyone knows that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you want to say. But Uncle Ben didn't die. If he had, that would've been way too embarrassing for a transmigrator like me who got reborn in the Marvel world. Anyway, some things that were destined to happen happened, along with some hesitation, some confessions..."

"And the best Spider-Man!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Spider-Man performed a flashy flip and landed steadily in front of a hot dog stand amid the ruins. This was the breakfast spot for Damage Control employees. He pulled several crumpled bills from his pants pocket—yes, this suit had pants pockets—bought a hot dog, took a bite, and continued:

"And then came another happy day for New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Beat up some criminals, see whether anyone's secretly stealing alien technology, listen to J. Jonah Jameson's 'infuriating reports,' blah blah blah, blah blah blah."

"Sorry..." The hot dog vendor looked baffled. "Are you talking to me?"

"Uh..." Spider-Man was momentarily speechless. "Honestly, I don't know either. Maybe someone's listening, right?"

To avoid the awkwardness, he flicked his wrist and shot out a web. After saying goodbye, he used the web's pull to swing gracefully into the air.

"In short, I'm the happiest Spider-Man. No question about it."

"After all, what other Spider-Man gets to peacefully finish an entire hot dog?"

However, peaceful New York City did not give Spider-Man the chance to finish his hot dog in peace.

He landed on the glass exterior of a building, pulled down half his mask, and watched the activity in the ruins while chewing his hot dog. A van rattled into the ground floor of a heavily damaged building. With his super vision, Spider-Man could clearly see that the van bore no Damage Control markings.

And half a Chitauri Leviathan was lying atop that building.

"Okay, looks like even the happiest Spider-Man can't enjoy an entire hot dog in comfort." Chew.

Stuffing the rest of the hot dog into his mouth, Peter put his mask back on. His web attached to the edge of a skyscraper, and he swung up, released it, pressed both arms to his sides, and dove through a broken window in a cool pose, landing squarely among the smugglers.

The people inside had not even reacted yet. They were still busy with their work: guarding the workers, keeping watch at the entrance, digging Chitauri corpses out of the rubble, collecting their alien weapons, and piling them onto a cart.

"Seriously? I mean, those are alien technologies humanity hasn't even figured out yet. They're super cool! Are you really going to put them on a cart and just stack them there?"

While mocking them, Spider-Man used his webbing to hook away a guard's assault rifle. Before anyone else could react, several people had already been bound in webbing, while the two men at the entrance were plastered to the wall. He lightly clapped his hands.

"I guarantee you don't have a Damage Control cleanup permit, gentlemen. So I've confiscated your weapons—wait, why is my Spider-Sense tingling?"

With a beautiful backflip, Spider-Man dodged a blue energy beam. Immediately afterward, a ball of webbing splattered across the face of a worker holding a Chitauri weapon.

"Hey, don't mess around with alien technology! That thing is dangerous!"

"Once I blast you, you little bug, into dust, you won't have so much to say!"

"Spiders aren't insects. They're arthro—"

Dodging sideways as a laser grazed past his head, Spider-Man looked around and discovered that the "cleaners" had all picked up Chitauri weapons.

"Okay, I was trying to finish that sentence. Say, are cleaners' tools more useful than security guards' weapons these days?"

The cleaners immediately made the correct decision.

"Fire! Fire fast!"

Blue beams came one after another. Spider-Man nimbly used his webbing and speed to weave between them, dodging every shot. At the same time, his mouth did not stop moving.

"Where was I?"

Webbing sprayed continuously from midair, striking with enough force to knock the armed thugs down before plastering them to the ground. Some cleaners immediately chose to slide away, ducking behind rubble or fallen sections of ceiling.

"Oh, right. Spiders aren't insects, they're arthropods. My God, why is science education so terrible these days? Shouldn't people your age be getting a 'no child left behind' education? Is this why you're out here smuggling alien weapons? Bad grades? At least learn auto repair or something. I know several mechanics, and they're all pretty good at it..."

The cleaners hiding behind cover listened in despair as the freak in the skintight suit rambled nonstop. One of them finally snapped, poked his head out, and shouted, "Shut up!" before firing wildly.

As a result, webbing stuck to his chest and yanked him straight into the air, after which a punch slammed him into the wall.

"Ha, just like a hero, beating up a bunch of bad guys! Oh, sorry, only one of you came out."

Everyone else obediently stayed behind cover. One cleaner stared despairingly at his companion clutching an alien gun on the other side. "When is he going to stop talking?"

"I don't know. I really regret not bringing headphones..."

"Maybe you should regret committing crimes, gentlemen."

A sudden yet familiar voice rang out. A slender red-and-blue figure descended upside down from the ceiling. Webbing hooked their weapons away, then pinned them to the rocks before they could even stand up.

"Alright, there shouldn't be anyone left... Oh, is that your van trying to run away?"

Then they watched the spider freak shoot a thick, white strand of webbing from his wrist and stick it to something. He gripped the web with both hands and pulled hard.

They seemed to hear the van engine's desperate scream, and then something took flight.

The silver-white van flew entirely into the air. Spider-Man backflipped in sync with it, landed first, then caught the whole vehicle by its undercarriage and gently set it down.

Knock, knock, knock.

Spider-Man walked over to the stunned driver and tapped on the cab window. "Dangerous driving, sir. Could I see your license?"

He used webbing to hook over a phone someone had dropped on the ground, dialed 911, and opened the door to pull the driver out.

"Hello, New York City Police Department? I'd like to report an illegal smuggling operation. Tell Customs? Does Customs handle alien weapon smuggling too? Uh, the location is... There are quite a few people, so bring more police cars."

More than ten minutes later, several police cars arrived outside the dilapidated building. The officers who stepped out lifted their caps and looked up at dozens of people hanging outside the building, their arms and bodies bound in webbing.

The van and its load of alien weapons were wrapped tightly in webbing as well.

"Captain, this is a message left by the caller."

The broad-shouldered, sharp-looking Sheriff took the note and read it aloud. "The webbing will automatically dissolve in two hours. Please prepare to receive them. —Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

"Captain, they..."

"Send people to watch them. They'll probably fall within two hours. A drop of just over two meters won't kill them."

As he spoke, the Sheriff requested backup through his radio. "This is George Stacy. I need more vehicles to transport suspects. Over."

Captain Stacy narrowed his eyes and looked at the note again.

"This handwriting... Why does it seem a little familiar?"

PS: The Amazing Spider-Man was released in 2012, the same year as the first Avengers film, though two months later. Peter was also a high school student, in his second year, one year older than the protagonist Spider-Man.

The protagonist's first suit was modeled after the suit from The Amazing Spider-Man 1, but with an extra belt. The Web Shooters were the classic wristband-style type.

So you can basically think of him as the MCU's Amazing-Spider.