The Detective Agency's admission process was exactly as Jessica had described—besides filling out basic information, applicants also had to solve a carefully designed deduction puzzle. The details were so elaborate they were jaw-dropping, and its professionalism rivaled that of a publishable detective novel.
Take the puzzle Peter got, for example. There was no need to recount the case details; roughly speaking, the victim's stomach had been burned through because the granules inside a medicine capsule had been replaced with metallic sodium. Never mind whether it was even feasible—just coming up with something like that was enough to drive an ordinary high school student insane. There was no way to reach that answer without elimination.
"I got it."
"Congratulations, Peter Parker. You're officially a member of the Detective Agency." Smiling, Jessica dragged a cardboard box out from beneath the table. "This is your admission souvenir—a deerstalker hat from 221B Baker Street."
At least twenty hats were piled inside the box, dust drifting through the sunlight. Peter picked one up and caught sight of the label.
"Made in... oh!"
"Trust me, even if you actually went to Baker Street and bought one, the label on the back would definitely say the same thing."
Peter actually had a genuine 221B Baker Street deerstalker hat Gwen had brought back from London, and its label said it was made in Britain. Still, he decided not to embarrass the upperclassman.
Amadeus completed the deduction right after him and received the same "souvenir." Harry was still deep in thought, until ten minutes later, when he suddenly slapped the table.
"I know! The murderer used—"
"Shh!" Jessica raised a finger. "Write the answer down. No spoilers."
Harry sheepishly handed in his answer sheet. Jessica looked it over and nodded in satisfaction. "The quality of this year's newcomers is really good. All three of you got perfect scores—we usually only require a passing grade to join."
"Does our club have very few members? It feels like nobody comes here."
"Not that few. We have more than twenty people. It's just that when there aren't any events, only the member on duty is here—usually me. We also take a few commissions, like when a student loses something, or when someone suspects their boyfriend or girlfriend is cheating and needs evidence... Those commissions don't count for credits."
The only things that counted for credits were, without question, the Detective Agency's club activities.
So Amadeus asked the question.
"Then what activities does the Detective Agency usually have?"
Jessica chuckled, picked up a remote from the table, and lowered the projector screen. The projector displayed a prepared PowerPoint, featuring a conspicuous line of large text.
The Ultimate Challenge: Find Spider-Man's True Identity!
"What?!"
"Surprised, right?"
Misunderstanding Peter's shocked reaction, Jessica began explaining as if it were obvious. "Almost every superhero has made their identity public, but Spider-Man is the exception. So isn't finding Spider-Man's true identity the greatest mystery the Detective Agency should solve? I know it's difficult, but that's what we're here to do!"
Peter began to doubt whether joining the Detective Agency had been the right choice. He stared at everything with his mouth hanging open, completely unsure how to respond for a moment.
Harry reacted quickly, though. "Doesn't that mean Spider-Man doesn't want his identity exposed? If that's the case, he'll definitely protect his secret identity."
"And detectives seek the truth."
"Wait, wouldn't this violate his right to privacy?"
Although Peter thought he had hidden himself fairly well, he still decided he ought to say something. Jessica hesitated after hearing that, then reached a conclusion.
"That's true, but it's not like we can make Spider-Man come here and stop us."
Peter's vision went dark. He leaned back, then sat upright again and took a deep breath, trying to analyze things rationally.
"Fine. Even if we investigate, what clues do we have? He swings around in the sky all day. There's no way to catch any slipups."
But Jessica merely smiled faintly at that question.
"True. Ordinarily, it's difficult for us to obtain clues like that. At the moment, the only footage of Spider-Man available on social media is a short clip of him dealing with a few robbers, and there's almost nothing to be found in it."
"But—!"
Jessica raised her voice, then pressed the remote again. "I have exclusive material, and it should be the earliest known footage of Spider-Man in action."
Peter Parker raised his hand.
"Can I ask where it came from?"
"I filmed it myself. My home is in Manhattan, and when the alien invasion happened, I got caught up in it. Spider-Man saved me." Jessica brushed back her hair a little awkwardly. "Personally, I want to find him and thank him. The school was interested in the activity too, and the student council approved it as soon as I proposed it!"
Spider-Man had already received your thanks, upperclassman. Please stop violating Spider-Man's privacy.
Peter forced himself to watch as Jessica opened the video. It began outside the window of an apartment in Midtown Manhattan. A massive portal split open in the sky, and the Chitauri army poured out like locusts. The footage shook violently, and Jessica's voice could be heard.
"What is that? Aliens?!"
In the footage, Iron Man, visible only as a trail of exhaust, charged into the enemy swarm. Explosions blossomed one after another in the sky. Peter tried hard to remember what he had done during the Battle of New York, but he truly couldn't recall, so he could only sigh and spread his hands.
"So an entire alien army descended from the sky and started shooting everywhere, and what you did, upperclassman, was take out your phone and start recording."
Fortunately, this was only 2012. If it had been 2020, Jessica probably would have started a livestream on the spot.
Jessica merely smiled awkwardly.
"Spider-Man isn't here yet. Let's fast-forward through this part."
The video fast-forwarded several minutes. A gigantic Chitauri beast emerged from the portal, and Chitauri soldiers launched from its back stormed building after building, diving straight through the windows of Jessica's home. No one knew how Jessica, who had been filming, dodged them. In any case, her phone flew away and landed perfectly beside a wall, its camera still aimed into the room.
And Jessica? Oh, video-Jessica was already lying unconscious on the floor. The aliens hadn't even needed to fire a shot.
A Chitauri soldier aimed its weapon at the unconscious Jessica, ready to fire. At that critical moment, a red-and-blue blur flashed into the frame like lightning, kicked the enemy out of view, then shot offscreen as well. A few seconds later, the Chitauri soldier was sent flying out the window, plummeting from the high floor.
"He was there. When I was injured by the blast and lost consciousness, he was there."
Jessica's eyes lit up as she immersed herself in the footage, completely failing to notice Peter's slightly strained expression. In the video, Spider-Man saw Jessica on the ground, picked her up, and laid her flat. Then he spread his hands as if he were in a difficult position, but quickly began performing standard CPR.
Peter couldn't tell whether he remembered it or not. That day had been far too exhausting, but he voiced his opinion before anyone else could.
"Spider-Man has basic medical knowledge. His entire CPR procedure is standard."
"But he's very unpracticed, as if he only understands the theory." For some reason, Harry seemed quite knowledgeable about CPR. "He definitely wasn't medical personnel. Oh, wait, he's bandaging the upperclassman's head. Why isn't he using his Silk?"
"That's obviously because it isn't convenient. Look, there's a bracelet on his wrist. That means Spider-Man fires Silk using a mechanical device."
After hearing Amadeus's explanation, Harry found it unbelievable. "Wait, Spider-Man can't shoot Silk on his own? I thought his Silk came out around where the veins are."
Peter sighed helplessly.
"Humans don't have organs that produce silk, Harry. If we produced silk like spiders, then it should shoot out from the abdomen."
Perhaps because of the CPR, Jessica coughed twice while unconscious. Spider-Man wrapped one arm around her, bound them together with Silk, then leaped out the window.
Amadeus shook his head in disbelief.
"He just... held you like that, then jumped from... approximately how high?"
"The thirty-third floor. He took me somewhere safe and settled me down, away from the dangerous battlefield."
"Carrying a person down thirty-three floors, while accounting for acceleration... Spider-Man is stronger than Captain America." Amadeus sighed. "That's ridiculous."
"All right, we're not here to marvel at superheroes' strength. Has anyone found any useful clues?"
"His shoes. Even though Spider-Man is wearing a costume, his shoes are a pair of red sneakers. I have an identical pair."
Peter voluntarily brought up the point Gwen had noticed, but he had made himself a pair of shoe covers and had already put them on before leaving home today, so this clue was already outdated.
Everyone brought up quite a few scattered observations, but in the end, they reached the same conclusion Jessica had earlier: they had found nothing.
And when their first day at the Detective Agency finally ended, Harry suddenly turned back as they were leaving. "By the way, upperclassman, what's your full name?"
"Jessica Miriam Drew." She waved with a smile. "But just call me Jessica."
Peter, who was drinking water, nearly sprayed it out. Others might not know what that name represented, but he really did.
The original Spider-Woman, Jessica Drew.
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