Perhaps because Little Peter had raised them since they were young.
At his call, all the spiders in the terrarium stirred.
"Look at that White-Fronted Huntsman Spider. Its legs are so long—it runs even faster than Aunt May. I say pick it. Once it bites you, you'll definitely be able to run super fast!"
"Hey! Does Aunt May know you think she walks too slowly? I still say the Jumping Spider is better."
"Yeah, look at this little Jumping Spider. Big eyes, great eyesight. Once it bites you, little guy, you'll definitely be able to jump high and see far!"
"No, no. What's the point of jumping high between skyscrapers? If you're picking one, pick the Wall Spider. The webs it spins are exquisite and beautiful—they're practically works of art!"
"That's all nonsense. Little Peter, listen to me. None of these spiders will do. I found you a Six-Eyed Sand Spider..."
If the noise made by one Spider-Man was equivalent to five hundred ducks quacking at once,
then the group surrounding Little Peter had already produced as much noise as all the ducks in the world made in an entire year.
Some were giving Little Peter advice, while others said deliberately getting bitten couldn't make someone Spider-Man.
The most outrageous one was Spider-Punk.
No one knew where he had found a highly venomous Six-Eyed Sand Spider, but he declared that once Little Peter got bitten, he could become the Poison King.
Little Peter was driven into a state of irritation and confusion by their noise.
In the end, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and grabbed every spider in the terrarium without a care.
Those spiders, venomous or not, even the irradiated ones, were remarkably cooperative.
In just a few seconds, Little Peter's palm was covered in bite