"It hurts!"
A burning pain shot along the blood vessels in his right hand, straight into his heart.
"Aaargh!"
The boy let out an uncontrollable scream. His palm felt as though countless needles were stabbing viciously into it. Venom spread rapidly through his veins, and his entire arm went so numb he lost all feeling in it.
He had been curled up in his rented room, staying up late reading Marvel fanfiction. How had he suddenly ended up in this much pain?
He snapped his eyes open, then squinted against the dazzling white light. The mirror clearly reflected a boy's face-pale and scrawny, with an exaggerated pair of round glasses and messy brown hair plastered against his forehead.
"Mr. Parker? Mr. Parker, are you all right?!"
An anxious female voice burst beside his ear, and someone reached out to steady his shoulder.
A buzzing filled the boy's head, as though some floodgate had been smashed open. Countless unfamiliar fragments of memory poured in like a raging tide:
Midtown High School, biology lab class, Oscorp's genetics laboratory, a genetically modified spider that had escaped its incubator, silently landed on the back of his hand, and bitten down hard...
And a name surfaced clearly in the depths of his mind-Peter Benjamin Parker.
I've transmigrated?
That was the only thought left in his head. He had transmigrated into Spider-Man, Peter Parker.
Under the combined assault of an enormous flood of memories and the spider venom, his vision kept going dark, and the noise around him grew ever more distant. He felt someone help him out of the laboratory and onto a bright yellow school bus. His biology teacher, whose hair was graying at the temples, sat beside him, muttering about taking him to the infirmary.
Later, a pair of warm, strong arms lifted him. Peter struggled to open his eyes and saw a face lined with age, its white hair neatly combed and its eyes filled with undisguised worry.
Ben Parker.
The instant that name crossed his mind, an indescribable warmth welled up within him. The car left the city, entered a quiet suburb, and finally stopped outside an unassuming little house. He was carried into a soft bed, and the moment his head touched the pillow, his consciousness sank completely into darkness.
That sleep turned his world upside down.
Countless memories that did not belong to him raced through his mind: the humiliation of being bullied at school, the hot meals Aunt May served when he came home, the basement piled with parts and chemical reagents, and physics formulas and genetic maps of staggering complexity.
He had only been an ordinary person in his previous life, yet looking at those abstruse formulas now, he felt a familiarity etched into his bones.
Along with this body, Peter Parker's genius mind now belonged entirely to him.
He had no idea how much time passed before he jolted awake, gasping for breath.
He instinctively tried to push himself upright on the bed, but the moment he pressed down with his palms, his body shot lightly upward-with a smack, his entire body stuck firmly to the ceiling.
All four limbs clung tightly to the surface, and the world before his eyes was completely upside down.
"Holy shit!"
Peter startled. The moment the thought Get down crossed his mind, the adhesive force at his fingertips abruptly vanished. He plummeted straight down from the ceiling more than two meters above the floor, but his body reacted before his mind could. He nimbly twisted and flipped in midair, landing firmly on the mattress with both feet, without even a wobble.
The entire sequence flowed seamlessly, driven purely by his body's instincts.
He raised his right hand in a daze.
Most of the severe swelling on the back of his hand had subsided, leaving only two faint red bite marks. He focused on his fingertips. Between the ridges of his fingerprints were densely packed rows of tiny, sharp hooks, almost impossible to distinguish with the naked eye.
His spider wall-crawling ability had awakened.
And that was not all. He could clearly hear Aunt May's footsteps in the kitchen downstairs, smell the rye flour drifting through the air, and even make out the fine veins on leaves ten meters beyond the window.
Strength, speed, perception, reflexes... his body was rapidly absorbing a superhuman physique in every respect.
Peter walked over to the mirror and looked at the boy's face reflected in it.
Its former timidity and inferiority were gone, and those eyes were filled with the calm that followed shock.
He really had transmigrated, arriving in the Marvel Universe and becoming the future Spider-Man.
He leaned against the desk and began rapidly sorting through the information in his mind.
This world was not purely the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The news had reported Tony Stark publicly admitting he was Iron Man, and preparations for the Stark Expo were underway in Queens, placing the timeline roughly around Iron Man 2. Yet there were also scattered newspaper reports about mutants, and the Fantastic Four were household names in New York.
This was a Marvel Universe that combined multiple settings, far more dangerous than the original films.
Back when he had fantasized about transmigrating into fictional worlds, he might have jumped with excitement. But now that fate had actually landed on him, all he felt was fear.
He knew all too well what Spider-Man's life was like.
The words "With great power comes great responsibility" had bound Peter Parker for his entire life. A moment's decision to let a robber escape had indirectly caused Uncle Ben's death, leaving him to live with guilt ever after; being a hero was a thankless struggle, with the Daily Bugle smearing him as a threat to the city every day; his love life was turbulent, and those around him could be endangered at any moment because of his identity.
The peaceful life of an ordinary person was torn to pieces by his identity as a superhero.
"No."
He made up his mind almost immediately.
Uncle Ben cannot die. He would never let that gentle, kind old man lose his life over some ridiculous robbery.
As for being Spider-Man? Whoever wants the job can have it.
I have Peter's genius mind. Just coming up with a few inventions and patenting them would be enough to keep Uncle Ben and Aunt May comfortably provided for. Isn't benefiting society through technology better than fighting for my life every day? Isn't living in peace better than living on a knife's edge?
Iron Man and the Avengers can handle those supervillains and alien invasions. It's not up to a high school student like me to step forward.
With his mind made up, Peter felt considerably more at ease. He was just about to open the door and head downstairs when Aunt May's gentle voice came from outside:
"Peter? If you're awake, why don't you come down and eat? There's something I need to tell you, too. Your Aunt Anna's niece is moving here today. She'll arrive at noon. The poor girl doesn't know anyone or anything around here, so spend some time keeping her company."
Peter stopped abruptly.
Aunt Anna's niece?
Mary Jane Watson?
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Seriously? I just decided to be an ordinary person, and the familiar plot is already here?