The neon lights of Busan at night were no less dazzling than those of New York.
Yet the bustling elevated highway had fallen into a brief traffic jam.
Watching the humanoid Black Panther in the middle of the overpass "bully" some kids, people took out their phones one after another.
Recording everything before their eyes.
They looked as though they were ready to speak up for the young people—online, at least.
In reality, they either kept silent or drove against traffic to flee, choosing survival above all else.
A red-and-blue figure swung down from above like a cannonball launched with Precision Throwing, arriving at an unbelievable angle.
Accompanied by a familiar teenage voice with a teasing edge:
"Hey! Put those claws away. That's no way to treat friends!"
Bang!
At the same time, a foot clad in a skintight suit slammed hard into the outside of Black Panther T'Challa's outstretched arm.
The force behind it, combined with Spider-Man's precise landing point and full body weight, forcibly knocked the Black Panther's certain claw strike off course.
It grazed past Quicksilver's collar and left three deep claw marks in the concrete barrier.
"Peter!"
Recognizing Peter's voice, Wanda and Pietro cried out in unison.
Their voices were filled with disbelieving joy.
Thank goodness he wasn't dead!
Otherwise, how were they supposed to explain it to sir?
One second, they had been trapped in a desperate situation. The next, the friendly neighborhood boy who had been sent flying by the Black Panther and had not moved for ages
was standing before them in a Spider Suit like a Celestial descending to earth.
Pietro clutched his nearly slashed-open neck and panted heavily.
His eyes were wide as he stared at Peter's sleek red-and-blue back.
That giant spider was especially eye-catching:
"Holy... You're okay? I thought