Shocking Opening (1)

Herman never forgot Spider-Man. He was already convinced that to make a name for himself, he had to defeat a real superhero. Compared to those well-equipped Avengers, the kid in the cheap spandex swinging between skyscrapers was undoubtedly the best choice.

The afterglow of the sunset filtered through the steel frame of the unfinished building, casting mottled shadows on the ground. Suddenly, a silver light flashed – Herman, clad in silver armor, leaped high, his mechanical gauntlets aimed at the concrete wall and smashing down fiercely. With a deafening roar, the entire wall shattered. His figure fell along with the collapsing bricks and stones, piercing through three floors before crashing heavily onto the bottom level, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Finally... done."

Improving the scarecrow launcher was never a problem for Herman. What truly took a full week was the suit of armor he was wearing. The internal energy system, the backup battery on his back, the gauntlet-style scarecrow launchers, and the golden titanium alloy armor also allowed him to withstand automatic rifle fire. Not only that, but the recoil from the vibration waves could be completely converted into kinetic energy, granting him superhuman strength and speed. Concrete was like a brittle biscuit under his fists, and the hundred-pound metal shell didn't affect his hundred-meter sprint speed at all. The only drawback was the extremely cumbersome process of putting it on – this wasn't some high-tech exoskeleton, just a pile of metal plates connected by a complex transmission system, requiring him to assemble it piece by piece like a medieval knight.

When the last piece of armor was removed, Herman let out a long sigh. The remaining cash in his pocket was meant for food, but the sight of J. Jonah Jameson on the giant screen across the street spewing curses at Spider-Man changed his mind. The red and blue spandex suit in the footage reminded him of his own rough silver armor – still bearing the scorch marks from welding and the hammer marks from forging.

So he turned and walked into the convenience store, emerging a few minutes later with two cans of spray paint.

"It's time for a grand entrance."

"Today! Is! A! Normal! Day!"

High school life passed in the blink of an eye. For Peter Parker, nothing particularly good or bad had happened. The detective agency's investigation had made no progress. Nights spent with Harry and Amadeus building LEGOs at home were filled with laughter. Gwen was secretly joining the rock club, and the upcoming homecoming dance... everything was peacefully mundane. The only minor annoyances were the unanswered internship applications and the embarrassment of not being able to afford a cosplay outfit – it looked like he'd have to head home early from the homecoming dance this year.

As for Spider-Man? The friendly neighborhood hero's work continued as usual. No supervillains, no alien tech weapons, not even petty thugs were making an appearance. If it weren't for Avengers Tower still standing on the skyline, Peter would almost suspect he'd traveled to some parallel universe where only Spider-Man existed.

"Uh oh, looks like trouble."

The piercing wail of police sirens and the blare of ambulance horns cut through the sky. Clearly, something significant had happened. Spider-Man quickly sprang into action, swinging along with the police cars.

"Alright, what is it this time, gangsters? Bank robbers? Tech criminals?"

He landed on a familiar exterior wall, looked at the familiar sign, and scratched his head.

"Or all of the above? Why would anyone rob a bank they've already robbed?"

The place billowing with smoke was Midtown Bank. It should have been condemned due to structural damage, but Tony Stark had used his disaster relief equipment to maintain the building's stability. Consequently, the demolition work on the building had become a massive bureaucratic mess: various companies inside wanted to retrieve their remaining assets, delaying the demolition under the guise of "no major safety concerns."

Thus, this "uncollapsible" condemned building had also become a temporarily famous attraction in New York.

Peter wasn't sure if there was any money left in a condemned bank that had already been robbed, but seeing the two overturned police cars outside the bank and the officers on high alert, Spider-Man knew it was time for him to make his entrance.

"Hey, Sheriff, long time no see."

Spider-Man landed on a utility pole next to Sheriff Stacy's police car, catching the sheriff's attention. Seeing the superhuman arrive, George had to admit that even if citizens called them incompetent, some criminals really could only be dealt with by masked vigilantes.

"You've arrived just in time, Spider-Man."

"Who's inside?"

"According to our intel, it's Herman Schultz."

"Who's that?"

"The leader of the bank robbery crew you arrested here last week. He broke out of NYPD custody. His subordinates said he invented that weapon himself and used it for the bank robbery. Both our police cars were flipped by shockwaves, so we can only assume it's him."

Peter finally realized who Sheriff Stacy was talking about.

"Oh, Mr. Scarecrow, I remember now. Don't worry, Sheriff Stacy, I'll bring him back in."

Sheriff Stacy watched as Spider-Man made his bold declaration and swung into the bank lobby. He could only arrange traffic control and wish him good luck.

Entering the bank, Spider-Man found that nothing had changed. The battle scars from a week ago were still there. More importantly, his Spider-Sense was completely still, showing no signs of danger – corresponding to the dim bank where no one was present and no signs of intrusion were visible.

"Hello? Herman? Mr. Scarecrow? Are you in here?"

After shouting a couple of times and receiving no response, Spider-Man pressed on. He saw the bank's vault door, which was slightly ajar, as if someone had opened it. Strangely, it didn't look like it had been blown open by a shockwave weapon.

"I used to call myself the best locksmith in New York. No safe could stop me. I thought it was just a boast back then, but this vault door tells me it's true. I can pick it, not break it."

A man's muttering came from behind the vault, echoing clearly in the empty building. Spider-Man stood outside the vault, calmly waiting for him to finish, then shrugged, "How about you come out for a chat? Or I can come in, as long as you promise not to blast me with your scarecrow gun."

"Don't you think they're stupid, Spider-Man?"

"Who are you talking about? Yourself? After all, who would rob a bank they've already robbed again?"

"But they didn't take a single cent, and they left everything here, as if waiting for me to rob it."

A sharp, piercing pain shot through Peter's brain. The last time he'd felt pain of this magnitude was facing the Chitauri mothership. Peter instinctively flipped backward, narrowly dodging the vault door that flew out. The multi-ton metal door crashed to the ground, and Spider-Man, as he landed, could only utter a frustrated curse.

US dollar bills rained down like a golden avalanche. Emerging from this deluge was an opponent he'd never seen before. He wore heavy, shock-resistant armor in shades of yellow and brown, with segmented metal plates on the shoulder and chest armor, and the entire surface covered in a honeycomb-like shock-absorbing structure. His arms were equipped with gauntlet-style scarecrow launchers, and his brown helmet resembled a dangerous owl.

"Just like I was waiting for you to come back!"

At this moment, Herman Schultz, no, he should be called "Scarecrow." Scarecrow threw a left punch, sending a shockwave capable of blasting the entire vault door away towards Spider-Man. Spider-Man dodged using his Spider-Sense, then swung on a web line back into the bank lobby – where there was more space to fight.

"I'm truly flattered, Herman. You improved your equipment just to beat me up? You even built a suit of armor?" Spider-Man pressed himself against the wall, watching Scarecrow walk out step by step. "Look at your invention, you're a genius. You could use your talent for something meaningful, you could help so many people, you could even become a hero. What do you say?"

Scarecrow paused, lowering his arm. Peter could sense his Spider-Sense slightly subsiding.

"You speak very well, Spider-Man," Scarecrow nodded, looking up at Spider-Man. "Except for one thing."

"You should have invited me when I was still a nobody!"

Sheriff George was waiting outside the bank, but the situation was clearly not optimistic. A large hole had been blasted in the bank's exterior wall, and Spider-Man had been flung out of it.

"Don't go in, Sheriff! Herman is dangerous! Evacuate the surrounding people!"

Blasted out by the scarecrow launcher, Spider-Man used his web fluid to stick to the bank lobby floor and catapulted himself back into the battle. The upgraded launcher had an absurd range; even with his Spider-Sense, he hadn't completely dodged it.

At this moment, he could only perform a standard superhero landing directly in front of Herman.

"Alright, Herman, looks like I'll have to lay down the law with you first."

To meet 21st-century standards, Scarecrow's equipment was from the Marvel's Spider-Man game, not the comic book spandex.