Escape

In reality, an entire skyscraper becoming structurally unsound was far more serious than Peter had imagined. Mere minutes after he left, the Avengers had taken control of the nearby streets.

The Avengers in this universe were not exactly the same as the MCU's members. The five founding Avengers who had participated in the Battle of New York were Iron Man Tony Stark, Captain America Steve Rogers, Thor, Hulk Bruce Banner, and Ant-Man Hank Pym. In addition, there was Wasp Janet van Dyne, an unaffiliated member who served as the Avengers team's manager. Captain America did not work for S.H.I.E.L.D.; instead, he was permanently stationed at Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower.

"I still suggest shrinking the whole building with Pym Particles. These webs are slowly degrading naturally and will lose effectiveness within two hours." Ant-Man, who had just shrunk himself to examine the web structure, returned to his normal size. His suit automatically retracted its helmet, revealing short light-brown hair and a youthful face barely past thirty. "The structure of these webs looks familiar... I feel like I've seen it somewhere before."

"I've already stabilized the building's structure using Stark Industries engineering equipment, so I probably won't need your help, Hank." Iron Man flew overhead and admired the message left for the police on the webbing stretched between the two buildings. "Pretty nice cursive, isn't it, Captain?"

Only three Avengers had come. Bruce Banner had not come, while Thor was simply not on Earth. Captain Rogers sat on his motorcycle, watching footage on a tablet—bank surveillance footage restored by J.A.R.V.I.S., containing the complete recording of Spider-Man's fight.

"Less than seven minutes. He took down those criminals in less than seven minutes. Everything was over before we arrived."

"I could do it in one." Iron Man landed beside the Captain and flipped open his armored faceplate.

"What I mean is, he was trained, and the training was military in nature. More than that, he specifically trained his control over his own strength." Steve Rogers paused the footage at the instant Spider-Man's fist struck Herman's face. "With his strength, without proper restraint, that punch would have killed the man. But that guy wasn't even knocked out."

"So we found a guy who knows what he's doing. Great. I was worried about how I'd wash his webs out of the gaps in my armor."

"It was Professor Richard Parker." Hank's sudden comment interrupted their idle conversation. Tony closed his faceplate and looked at the information J.A.R.V.I.S. had pulled up. "An entomologist? One of your colleagues, Hank?"

"No. He was an expert in genetic modification and programming. Several leading experts in related fields today, including Curtis Connors, Miles Warren, and Jonathan Drew, were all his students."

"Wow." Tony sounded impressed. "I've never heard of a single one of them."

"He was once the chief person in charge of the United States military's Super Soldier Serum project. His primary research direction was using animal genes to enhance humans. He published quite a few related papers, most of which were sealed away by S.H.I.E.L.D. I read some of them when I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. a few years ago. One was about artificially synthesizing a certain spider-silk protein, and the web structure in it was identical to this one."

Tony glanced at the Captain, but the Captain remained silent, revealing no additional emotion.

"Osborn Industries was responsible for the Super Soldier Serum project at the time—and presumably still is. But he withdrew from the project several years ago, then joined S.H.I.E.L.D. He died in a plane crash three years ago."

"Why am I not surprised at all? So this Spider-Man is a Super Soldier developed by Osborn? Wonderful. J.A.R.V.I.S., schedule a meeting with Norman Osborn for me."

"He isn't a Super Soldier created in a lab, nor is he some weapon." The Captain reached a conclusion. "He's more like a vigilante acting of his own accord."

"We'll know once we ask Osborn." Tony did not seem particularly concerned. After thinking for a moment, the Captain made his decision as well. "Or Nick Fury. I'll ask him. And the police too—they should have investigated Spider-Man to some degree."

"I'll take this back and study it." Hank picked up one of the "shock" launchers. "It might be useful."

Hearing the wail of police sirens, the three Avengers turned toward the police cars appearing at the end of the street. Tony raised an eyebrow. "The NYPD sure arrived promptly."

George Stacy, who had escorted the criminals back to NYPD headquarters, was in a thoroughly foul mood. Today was supposed to be his daughter's high school opening ceremony. He should have taken her to school and stayed until the ceremony ended. Instead, not only had he overslept, but the moment he woke up and prepared to leave, he had been assigned to escort criminals.

And he had heard that the street they wrecked was the very street Gwen took to school. If he had not asked Ben and learned that Gwen was fine, George would not have minded turning off his body camera and giving them a beating.

Now all the criminals had been brought to the station, waiting to be interrogated once they woke up. He had just taken a sip of coffee when one of his officers came to report some "good news."

"Sir, the gang leader is awake."

George nodded, with no intention of questioning him personally. He stood outside the interrogation room's one-way glass with several officers, watching a fat white cop and a burly Black man question the suspect.

The bank robber gang's leader was a textbook stereotype of a Black gangbanger from the slums. He wore separated dreadlocks and a lip piercing, looking every bit like an unemployed thug.

"Name?"

"Herman Schultz."

"Age?"

"Twenty-six."

"Occupation?"

"None."

"Before that?"

"Mechanic."

The man appeared highly cooperative, though somewhat distracted. Based on the interrogation, they had roughly pieced together the profile of the man before them: a middle-school dropout with little education, formerly a mechanic, who had struck it rich scavenging after the Battle of New York and now intended to continue making money without capital.

So the fat cop asked his next question.

"Where did you buy these weapons? How much did they cost?"

"I made them myself from alien materials I scavenged."

The two officers conducting the interrogation, along with the bored cops watching outside, all froze for a moment before bursting into laughter in perfect rhythm.

"Man, do you know what you're saying?" The Black officer could not help shaking his head with a laugh. "Those... those weapons that nearly sliced an entire building apart—you made them?"

"I made them!" Herman roared furiously. "I made them!"

"That is the most ridiculous confession I've ever heard, man." The white officer shook his head helplessly and did not write anything down. "I know you don't want to give up whoever supplied these things, but you could at least make up a decent excuse. You made this stuff yourself? That's absurd."

"What is wrong with that?! I made those things!!!"

"No, brother, do you know how powerful those weapons are? Even the experts in our evidence room can't figure out how they work." The Black officer spread his hands. "You say you made them? Man, you're just a mechanic. A middle-school dropout. You can make something like this?"

"What? Only highly educated white pigs can develop this kind of stuff? A Black mechanic can't become the best engineer?!"

"Calm down, man. We never said anything about race. You're the one being overly sensitive."

After the white officer spoke, he exchanged a look with the Black officer. They apparently figured they would get nothing out of him, so they hauled Herman out and had someone take him to the holding cells.

They planned to question someone else. Surely not everyone would claim that this middle-school dropout had made the high-tech weapons?

As Schultz was escorted to the holding cells, he kept recalling the police officers' mockery, along with Spider-Man's agile movements during the fight. When he reached the holding cell door, he stood motionless until an officer shoved him, and only then did he walk inside.

Several of his underlings had already woken up.

"Hey, Herman, what's wrong?"

Herman said nothing. Then, as if he had suddenly understood something, he pulled a hairpin from one of his underlings and went to the barred door of the holding cell. Using the hairpin, he picked the lock on his handcuffs and the holding cell door.

Herman Schultz was New York's finest lockpicker.

His underlings watched in stunned silence as he suddenly pulled open the cell door and, before the patrolling officer could react, grabbed him and choked him unconscious. Then he stripped off the officer's uniform and put it on himself, tossing the keys to his underlings who were still locked up.

"You decide for yourselves whether to leave. If they ask where I might have gone, tell them honestly."

His underlings sensed something was wrong and exchanged looks. At last, someone could not help asking, "Where are you going, Herman?"

"To do what I've always done. To tell New York that I'm the finest engineer."

As Herman Schultz spoke, he pulled his police cap lower and walked out of the holding cells. Since it was still before nine in the morning, there were not many people working at the station yet. Herman actually slipped out of the "heavily guarded" NYPD with ease. More than half an hour later, he found an old residential neighborhood. There, he had a long-abandoned construction site that served as his secret base. It was where he hid his alien technology, and even his underlings did not know about it.

He took out the alien-tech components, but after thinking for two seconds, kicked them aside. He could sell them for money later, but right now, he did not need that flashy nonsense.

"You're the best engineer, Herman. You don't need any alien technology."

The entire experience of fighting Spider-Man kept replaying in his mind. The other man's powerful yet agile figure stood in stark contrast to his own clumsy form hefting a massive gun. He had to build a suit like Spider-Man's—agile and powerful.

"An agile suit. It needs to absorb excessive shockwaves to prevent recoil damage. The device needs to be portable. A wristband is too small, so it can be made into bracers. The firing frequency also needs to be recalculated... like this..."

A broken desk lamp, a box of colored pencils, and stack after stack of draft paper.

One morning, one miracle.

A pair of bracer devices based on the same principles as the "shock" launchers but more controllable, along with a kinetic-energy-absorbing suit with a yellow base and red metal plating over certain sections.

When the blueprints were complete, Herman Schultz stared at them with bloodshot eyes, scarcely able to believe what he had drawn.

But then he smiled.

"I did it! I did it!"

"I didn't invent shock. On the contrary, I will become—Shocker!"