Threat

New York, Columbia University.

"There are more than thirty-two thousand species of spiders in the world. Below the order Araneae, they are divided into three suborders..."

Led by an Asian female teacher, the Tenth Grade students of Midtown High School entered Columbia University's research center. For a public high school, obtaining a visit slot like this had not been easy.

"This is amazing! This is the most advanced electron microscope on the East Coast. I can't believe it."

Unlike his best friend Peter, who was full of excitement, Harry seemed completely uninterested. Young Master Osborn of the Osborn family was only an average student. Compared to boring scientific equipment, he paid far more attention to the red-haired girl walking ahead of them.

"...So these spiders have different abilities, which they use to hunt for food. For example, this species from Australia has incredible jumping ability. This one is a web-building spider from the Kukia genus and the Philetidae family. It can spin funnel-shaped webs nearly as tough as construction-grade steel cables... This one hunts using reflexive movements. Its neural responses are incredibly fast, and many researchers believe it has precognitive abilities that allow it to sense danger in advance..."

The Asian female teacher explained in great detail. Over the past five years, Columbia University had bred and modified these spiders through DNA, then used synthesized ribonucleic acid to create entirely new genomes, producing Super Spiders with all sorts of remarkable abilities. The ultimate goal was to optimize the spiders' DNA so humans could gain these extraordinary abilities as well.

Peter listened intently. Looking at the various spiders in the culture dishes, he was amazed by their incredible abilities: powerful leaps, resilient web-spinning, unimaginable neural reflexes, and mysterious powers akin to a sixth sense. Everything about them felt fascinating to him.

"May I take a photo for the school paper?"

Peter made the request to the teacher. He was the school paper's photographer and often took pictures at school events.

After receiving permission, Peter raised his camera. Just as he pressed the shutter, someone shoved him from behind, turning the perfectly focused picture into a blurry mess.

"Stay away from him!" Harry stepped forward. He knew his best friend was often bullied at school.

"Or what?" the boy who had shoved Peter sneered.

"Then Young Master Osborn will ask his daddy to fire your daddy." A hulking boy mocked him. He was the one who bullied Peter most often. "What can your rich father do to me? Sue me?"

The big guy grabbed Harry by the collar, his tone vicious. He had long been sick of this rich kid. With his handsome face and wealthy family, Harry had no shortage of girls secretly crushing on him at Midtown High School. Worse still, he was always hanging around Mary-Jane. If he had not been afraid of getting expelled, he would have shown this rich young master just how hard his fists were long ago!

"Thompson, let him go." A young man spoke, his calm tone carrying no room for refusal.

"Sean..."

Once the burly Thompson saw who it was, he hesitated before letting go. He then turned and slunk away.

As the Football Team's star player, Thompson had always relied on his exceptional height and muscles to rule Midtown High School. No one had dared provoke him. But things had changed recently. Sean Sipes, that previously obscure guy, had somehow become a skilled fighter. Even street punks were no match for him. What had happened at the school gates yesterday had already spread throughout the entire campus.

Sean had instantly become a celebrity at Midtown High School. If anyone else had dared order him around like that, Thompson would have thrown a punch without a second thought. But when faced with the campus legend who had taken down several street punks by himself, he did not have the courage.

"Thank you, Sean," Peter said gratefully. Beside him, Harry nodded reluctantly as well.

"We're classmates. No need to be so polite."

Sean waved it off. He had only helped out casually. After all, seeing the young and inexperienced Spider-Man being bullied by a school thug, he could not just stand by and watch.

Who could have imagined that on this very day, a nerd from Midtown High School—a high school student known as "Puny Peter Parker"—would begin his journey toward becoming a superhero?

"Peter, what do you think it would be like if humans had these spiders' abilities?" Sean asked Peter, who was taking pictures.

"They'd probably be incredible. They'd have super-fast reflexes and be able to dodge incoming bullets. Their powerful jumping ability would let them leap over buildings. They might even be able to climb walls and rooftops like spiders."

Peter let his imagination run wild. This book-loving high school student's mind was filled with all kinds of fantastical ideas about science.

Harry curled his lip and quietly headed toward Mary-Jane. Chasing pretty girls was the true purpose of Young Master Osborn's life.

"Maybe one day, you'll become someone that amazing." Sean patted Peter on the shoulder, then walked away with a smile.

He already possessed power of his own and had no interest in getting bitten by a spider. His human body continuously absorbed the light of the stars, providing him with endless life energy.

If Sean had unleashed his strength at the school gates, a bloody massacre might have taken place. He felt that he could easily punch straight through that gang leader's body. To his eyes, human flesh had become as fragile as paper.

As his consciousness sank into the white light within his mind, a progress bar appeared on the system interface. It increased at an extremely slow pace every day, but so far it had yet to break past five percent. According to the display, every twenty-five percent would unlock one of his abilities.

Peter found Sean's words strange. How could humans possibly possess abilities like spiders? He raised the camera in his hand, the lens shifting continuously before finally settling on Mary-Jane.

As one of the prettiest girls at Midtown High School, lively and cheerful Mary-Jane had always been the target of the boys' pursuit. Thompson from the Football Team, his good friend Harry, and even Peter himself had all tried to get close to the red-haired girl, using every method they could think of to win her favor.

But compared to the others' bold advances, Peter lagged far behind. Introverted by nature, he did not even dare say an extra word to the girl he secretly loved. He could only watch her silently from afar.

Lost in his thoughts, Peter did not notice a little spider lowering itself on a strand of silk. It quietly crawled along his camera and onto his palm. As though drawn by some force, the little creature pierced his skin with its mouthparts and gave him a light bite.

Peter jerked his hand back on reflex. The culprit spider had already vanished, leaving only a tiny swelling on his palm, as though he had been bitten by a mosquito.

"That's strange. Where did a mosquito come from?" Peter looked puzzled.

The future Spider-Man had begun his life's journey, while on the other side, Sean ran into trouble again. After leaving Columbia University, he was blocked by another group of people on his way back to school.

This time, they were no longer street punks dressed in hip-hop fashion. They were a group of burly men in black suits, their arms covered in tattoos. There were noticeable bulges at their waists, probably handguns or something similar.

A middle-aged man stepped forward, looking down at Sean with arrogant superiority. "Listen, kid. You hurt one of my men. That guy may have been a nobody, but he'd been doing good work lately and helped me sell a lot of marijuana. Now he's lying in a hospital bed, and that's going to cost me quite a bit of money."

"So I'm giving you two choices. Either let me break one of your legs, or work for me from now on."

The middle-aged man looked arrogantly at Sean and found that his expression remained calm, as though he had not heard a word.

"Kid, I know you can fight, but I'm not one of those low-level street punks. If you refuse to cooperate, New York is a big place. A few people disappearing now and then is perfectly normal."

The middle-aged man spoke coldly, casually lifting his suit jacket to reveal the metal weapon tucked at his waist: a handgun.

"So what would I have to do?" Sean asked. "I mean, if I worked for you?"

"Go to the abandoned factory in the suburbs at ten tonight. I'll give you the goods. Remember this: newcomers hand over eighty percent of what they make. Those are the rules!"

The middle-aged man patted Sean on the shoulder, looking satisfied. "Don't even think about going to the police. My boss, Mr. Frank D'Amico, is a big name on the West Coast. Even the Police Chief has to show me some respect."

Watching the group swagger away, Sean kept his hands in his pockets. The seemingly gentle expression on his face gradually froze, becoming as cold as ice.