Theme Day (3)

The air conditioning in the comic book store hummed, but it couldn't dispel the stares directed at Peter Parker. Those gazes felt like thick syrup, a mix of envy and bitterness. After all, it was rare to find someone lucky enough to bring a beautiful girl like Gwen to buy cosplay outfits in a place filled with otaku and potato chips.

However, he wasn't looking at comics or chatting with anyone else. He was just scrolling through his phone while waiting for Gwen to change, checking the latest crime map of New York that J.A.R.V.I.S. had fed him.

The good news was that New York had indeed been quite peaceful lately, so peaceful that Spider-Man had no use for his skills.

The bad news was that someone else was probably doing his job for him.

Videos of a new Spider-Man fighting various thugs and villains had reappeared. The style was completely his, with similar moves. If Chameleon hadn't already been captured, he would have suspected it was Chameleon's doing.

Or perhaps it was Chameleon. He shouldn't have expected anything from the NYPD's security after Herman escaped so easily. They were practically nonexistent, just like Sheriff George's breakfast for Gwen.

"Are you sure this is appropriate for me to wear?"

Peter looked up and saw Gwen emerging from the fitting room. She was now wearing Supergirl's classic comic costume. She spun around and asked Peter uncertainly. Of course, Peter responded with an encouraging smile.

"Of course, it suits you perfectly."

"I was worried about the skirt length when I first got it, but thankfully, this length should be fine even for my dad."

"If Uncle George is worried, you can always wear pants underneath."

Gwen looked confused. "Are you sure? Wearing pants under a superhero costume?"

"We're just participating in a school theme day, Gwen. It's not like we're going to San Diego Comic-Con. No one will say anything even if it's not perfect. Besides, you've already seen Sherlock Holmes and Pikachu costumes at school."

"Okay, wait for me. I'll go change back."

After Gwen went back into the fitting room, Peter continued scrolling through his phone. He sent a request to J.A.R.V.I.S. to investigate the fake Spider-Man appearing in the city. This time, the fake Spider-Man wasn't just simple cosplay; there were clear shots of him swinging webs, and his fighting style was superhuman. Even without Chameleon, the yet-to-appear Mysterio was causing trouble behind the scenes.

However, Peter wasn't sure why Mysterio hadn't shown himself yet and was staying in the shadows. Was his equipment not yet complete? Was he unable to create illusions on the fly, only relying on projectors to set up static scenes, and unable to fool thermal imaging, thus choosing to hide?

Peter frowned, unsure of the other's intentions. Mysterio's little orb was still with him. When night fell, he could go to Avengers Tower to analyze it properly.

"Is there anything else?"

Gwen asked Peter after they had bought the cosplay outfits. Peter replied with a slightly surprised counter-question, "What?"

"Um... you know, I told you, right? After starting high school, I couldn't catch you anymore. You always woke up so early, and we didn't go home together after school. So I was wondering, are you very busy? Always out and about."

Peter didn't know how to explain after hearing this. He shook his head, holding his phone which showed no unexpected messages. "No, really. No club activities, no late-night runs, nothing like that."

"Really?"

"Really? Nothing's up. Shall we go home together?"

Gwen looked at Peter with some suspicion but didn't say anything more.

"Then, let's go."

Peter let out a sigh of relief, clutching his phone. He hoped nothing would happen on the way that would require Spider-Man.

Not everyone was in such a good mood. Take Carl, for example. Today, when Peter Parker caught him rummaging through his locker, Carl inexplicably felt terrified, as if he feared Peter Parker would transform into that freak in the Spider-Man costume and break his legs in the next second.

The thought of Peter Parker possibly being Spider-Man terrified Carl. He remembered how he had bullied Peter and others since childhood. With his superior physique, he never thought there was anything wrong with bullying anyone.

But what if he was bullying someone who could lift a car and throw it at people? Every time he thought about it, Carl felt scared. Yet, beyond that, Carl felt even more enraged that the scrawny Peter could make him so apprehensive.

He was actually afraid of that little guy?!

Both angry and scared, Carl returned home. No one was there except his mother. Mrs. Carl asked her son nervously.

"Are you okay, Carl? You seem a bit..."

"If you can tell, then stop babbling! Is dinner ready?!"

Carl rudely threw his backpack onto the table and turned on the TV, watching a live soccer match.

Carl stared at the family photo above the fireplace. His father's arm around his shoulder wore a Rolex Submariner. That watch should now be gathering mold in prison along with its owner. If only he could share his worries, his old man would have handed him a gun and told him in that whiskey-scented voice from his memory.

"Hey, if you're scared, just follow him and shoot him dead. You'll never have to be afraid of dead people."

"I miss you so much, Dad," Carl muttered, picking up a can of beer from the coffee table, opening it, and chugging it down. Then he thought about Peter Parker again, gritting his teeth and crushing the can.

"Oh my god, Carl, you're bleeding."

Mrs. Carl came in with dinner and noticed the cut on Carl's hand from the can. She quickly found the household alcohol and gauze, but Carl flicked her hand away and grabbed the gauze himself to disinfect the wound.

"Is this enough for anyone?!"

"There's more, there's more."

After shooing his mother away, Carl disinfected his hand. After dinner, he went back to his room.

He couldn't stop thinking about the thread-like substances he found in the chemistry lab, and the similar spider silk he found during the Scarecrow fight. He had planned to check the next day if it was the same material, but it completely disappeared the following day.

Damn Peter Parker.

Lying on his bed, Carl opened his phone and searched for Spider-Man. There were clips of Spider-Man fighting for justice, clearly from before Peter Parker was even in high school. But for some reason, he felt something was wrong.

He took out the brightly colored spider from his backpack. The spider from Osborn Industries. He had placed this spider on Parker's neck. It was his masterpiece, specifically designed to retaliate against Parker's defiance throughout their three years of middle school.

It was precisely because of this that he had made the spider into a specimen, to scare others.

"Even if Parker really turned into Spider-Man because of this spider, it's meaningless... the flesh inside has been scooped out, leaving only an empty shell."

As Carl was about to put the spider down, a bold idea struck him—should he try eating it?

It was made with alcohol, not formalin, and several months had passed. He wouldn't die even if he ate it. At worst, he'd feel sick for a few days. If this shell was still effective...

Carl hesitated, placed the spider on the table, and lay down on the bed.

He closed his eyes, and unconsciously, the scene of Spider-Man smashing a huge billboard onto Scarecrow flashed before his eyes.

Carl sat up abruptly, startled. He looked at the spider specimen on the table, grabbed it, shoved it into his mouth, chewed the entire specimen into pieces, and swallowed it.

He didn't know why he did it, but perhaps it was only after gaining some sense of security that Carl finally fell asleep.