How Did They End Up Fighting at My House?!

By the time Peter got home, it was already past ten. Aunt May and Uncle Ben seemed to have gotten used to him leaving early and coming home late, and they had just gone to bed themselves. Peter returned to his room, took off his suit, washed up briefly, and climbed into bed.

Lying there, he was still thinking about what Strange was really planning, and what Mephisto intended to do.

Peter couldn't make heads or tails of the former for the moment. As for Mephisto, Strange's words at least made a lot of sense: Mephisto had definitely already achieved his goal.

Based on what they knew, the whole operation was so bizarre and the plan so chaotic that Peter might not even be able to sort it out. The Roxxon-Stark war involved far too many things. But as for what Mephisto had gained from it—at least for now, it seemed to be nothing more than those unlucky people possessed by the Dark Consortium?

"What does he want with those people? If he wants to use their wealth, status, and influence to do something, then he should be contacting the Dark Consortium... Hmm, did he predict that Illyana would deal with the Dark Consortium? That doesn't make sense either..."

But considering how massive this operation had been, even from Mephisto's perspective, what he sought was far too insignificant...

No, that wasn't right. It wasn't that Mephisto had created such a massive situation for such a small demand. He had first found a way to obtain what he needed, then arranged an enormous event around that method.

No one cared about the opening act of a major event. That was Mephisto's goal. And given a devil's nature, perhaps this was also one of the ways he amused himself.

As usual, Peter