Let's Go Over It Again

"Alright, let's go over this one more time."

In the afternoon, sunlight filtered through the shattered skyscrapers of New York City, casting long shadows over the ruins. The Department of Damage Control, sponsored by Stark, was busy cleaning up the aftermath of the alien invasion. Heavy trucks roared as they dragged Chitauri Leviathan remains from the rubble. Stan Lee, who was sweeping the street, suddenly felt a shadow fall over him. He looked up, adjusted his hat, and muttered, "What the hell—"

It was a red and blue figure, swinging gracefully through the sky above New York City.

"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 am the only Spider-Man in the world—I mean, in 2012, where else would other Spider-Men come from?"

His suit was primarily red, with blue on the sides of his waist and his lower body. Fine black nylon threads wove a relief-like web pattern across the fabric. The black spider emblem on his chest looked fierce and realistic, a sharp contrast to the round, cute, chubby spider on his back. The slender black lenses on his mask made him look both energetic and a touch menacing.

"And right now, I am your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!"

Just then, an angry voice blared from an electronic billboard on the street corner, echoing through the ruins.

"Spider-Man is undoubtedly the biggest threat the Avengers should be concerned about! This masked criminal has appeared multiple times at uncleared alien battle sites. He is absolutely involved in the recent alien weapon smuggling cases in New York City!"

"Enough, J. Jonah Jameson! Your conspiracy theories need a break!" Spider-Man flicked his wrist, and a strand of web accurately plastered the host's mouth on the screen. However, the station owner, who bore a striking resemblance to Omni-Man, continued to ramble on.

"There is no doubt that 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 Captain America does? Even just a little bit?" Spider-Man shrugged helplessly. "Fine, I admit I'm not as good as the Captain, but you could still give me a less exaggerated compliment. And Daily Bugle Media? Seriously? It feels inferior to the Daily Bugle. Where were we?"

"Oh, right, you all know the rest of the story—with great power comes great responsibility. Then, be a friendly neighbor to everyone. Everyone knows that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you want to say. But Uncle Ben didn't die. If he had, it would be too embarrassing for a transmigrator like me who was reborn into the Marvel world. Anyway, some fated things happened, some hesitation, some confessions..."

"And there's an even better Spider-Man!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Spider-Man performed a gorgeous backflip, landing steadily in front of a hot dog stand in the ruins. This was a breakfast spot for the Department of Damage Control employees. He pulled a few crumpled bills from his pants pocket (yes, this suit had pockets), bought a hot dog, took a bite, and continued.

"And then, it's just another happy day for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Fighting crime, checking if anyone is secretly stealing alien tech, and listening to J. Jonah Jameson's 'infuriating reports,' blah blah, blah blah."

"Sorry..." the hot dog vendor looked confused. "Are you talking to me?"

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

To avoid the awkwardness, he flicked his wrist, and a web shot out. After a quick wave, he used the tension of the web to swing gracefully into the air.

"All in all, I am the happiest Spider-Man, without a doubt."

"After all, what other Spider-Man can finish a whole hot dog in peace?"

However, a 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 up half his mask, and chewed his hot dog while watching the movement in the ruins. A van wobbled into the base of a severely damaged building. Spider-Man's super vision clearly saw that the vehicle did not have the Department of Damage Control logo.

And lying on that very building was half of a Chitauri Leviathan.

"Well, it seems even the happiest Spider-Man can't finish a whole hot dog comfortably." (Chew)

Stuffing the rest of the hot dog into his mouth, our Peter pulled his mask back down. He attached a web to the edge of a skyscraper, swung, let go, tucked his arms to his sides, and dove through a broken window in a cool pose, landing steadily among the smugglers.

The people inside the building hadn't even reacted; they were still busy with their tasks: protecting the workers, keeping watch at the entrance, digging up Chitauri corpses from the ruins, and collecting their alien weapons to pile onto a small cart.

"Seriously? I mean, those are alien technologies that humans haven't even figured out yet, they're super cool! Are you really going to put them on a small cart and pile them up?"

Spider-Man complained while using a web to snatch a guard's assault rifle. Before the others could react, several people were already bound by webs, and the two men at the door were plastered to the wall. He clapped his hands lightly.

"I guarantee you don't have a cleanup permit from the Department of Damage Control, gentlemen. So your weapons have been confiscated by me—wait, why is my Spider-Sense tingling?"

With a beautiful backflip, Spider-Man dodged a blue beam of light. Immediately after, a glob of webbing plastered the face of the scavenger holding a Chitauri weapon.

"Hey, don't play with alien tech! This stuff is dangerous!"

"When I blast you into dust, you won't have so much nonsense to say!"

"Spiders aren't insects, they're arachnids—"

Sidestepping a laser that grazed his head, Spider-Man glanced around and realized this group of "cleaners" had all picked up Chitauri weapons.

"Fine, I wanted to finish that sentence. By the way, is it just me, or is the stuff in the hands of cleaners better than what the security guards have these days?"

The cleaners immediately made the most logical decision.

"Fire! Rapid fire!"

Continuous blue beams shot toward him, and Spider-Man flexibly used his webs and speed to weave and dodge between the beams. At the same time, his mouth didn't stay idle.

"Where were we?"

The webs sprayed continuously from mid-air had enough force to knock these armed thugs down and plaster them to the ground. Immediately, some cleaners chose to slide, hiding behind rubble or fallen ceiling panels.

"Oh right, spiders aren't insects, they're arachnids. My god, why is science education so bad these days? Shouldn't you guys be getting a 'no child left behind' education at your age? Is this why you're out here smuggling alien weapons? Bad grades? At least learn to fix cars or something? I know several mechanics, they have great skills..."

The cleaners hiding behind cover listened in despair to the spandex-clad freak rambling on. One of them couldn't take it anymore, poked his head out, and roared, "Shut up!" before firing wildly.

As a result, he was stuck in the chest by a web, dragged away, and punched into the wall.

"Ha, just like a hero, beating up a bunch of villains! Oh, sorry, just you popped out."

The others stayed obediently behind their cover. One cleaner looked at his companion holding an alien gun in despair: "When will he stop that mouth of his?"

"I don't know, I really regret not wearing headphones..."

"Perhaps you should regret committing crimes, gentlemen."

A sudden and familiar voice rang out, and a lean red and blue figure hung upside down from the ceiling. Webs snatched their weapons away, and before they could even stand up, they were fixed to the stones.

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

Then, they watched as this spider-freak shot a thick, white strand of webbing from his wrist, sticking it onto something. Next, he gripped the web with both hands and gave it a fierce tug.

They seemed to hear the desperate scream of the van's engine, and then something went flying.

The small, silver-white van took flight entirely. Spider-Man performed a synchronized backflip, landing first, before catching the entire vehicle by its chassis and setting it gently back onto the ground.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Spider-Man walked over to the dumbfounded driver and tapped on the driver's side window: "Dangerous driving, sir. Could you please show me your license?"

He used a web to snag a phone someone had dropped on the ground, and while dialing 911, he opened the door and hauled the driver out.

"Hello, NYPD? I'm reporting an illegal smuggling incident here. Talk to Customs? Does Customs even handle alien weapon smuggling? Uh, the location is... there are a lot of people here, bring more squad cars."

A dozen minutes later, several police cars arrived in front of the dilapidated building. The officers who stepped out lifted their caps, looking up at dozens of people whose arms and bodies were bound by webs, hanging from the exterior of the building.

As for the van and its cargo of alien weapons, they were wrapped tightly in layers of webbing.

"Sir, this is the message left by the caller."

The sturdy, sharp-looking Captain took the note and read it: "The webbing will automatically degrade within two hours, please be prepared to take custody. --Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

"Sir, they..."

"Assign men to watch them. They'll likely fall down within two hours; a drop of two meters won't kill anyone."

As the Captain spoke, he requested backup over his radio: "This is George Stacy, I need more vehicles to transport suspects, over."

Captain Stacy narrowed his eyes and looked at the note once more.

"This handwriting... why does it feel a bit familiar?"

PS: "The Amazing Spider-Man" was released in 2012, the same year as the Avengers, two months later. He is also a high school student (sophomore), one year older than the protagonist.

The protagonist's first suit design is the same as the suit from "The Amazing Spider-Man 1," but with an added belt, and the web-shooters are the classic wrist-mounted style.

So, he can be viewed as the Amazing-Spider of the MCU, roughly.