Mysterious Department

The next morning, shrill sirens shattered the peace of the suburbs.

A police car pulled up outside a long-abandoned chemical plant, yellow caution tape strung all around it. A fierce gunfight had taken place here the night before. Even residents living some distance away had heard it and immediately called the police.

Two uniformed officers stepped out of the car and entered the abandoned factory, which reeked of rot and mildew. What they saw was a gruesome, bloody scene. A powerfully built, burly man lay on the ground with one arm broken and twisted. Blood had stained a large patch of the floor red. His eyes bulged, as though he had suffered immense pain before dying. The surrounding walls were riddled with bullet holes. It truly looked as though a vicious gunfight had taken place.

As they went up the stairs, they found even more bodies on the floor, guns still clutched in their hands. Most had had their throats crushed or their necks snapped. From the two officers' extensive experience, their opponent had acted cleanly and efficiently—and possessed tremendous strength. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to snap an adult's neck in an instant. Finally, their eyes settled on a middle-aged man in a suit. His lifeless, dim eyes were filled with shock and terror, as though he had been unable to believe something even at the moment of death.

"Looks like we'll be busy again." A young officer spoke excitedly. Newcomers like him looked forward most to major cases like this.

"Put away those daydreams. This case probably won't be easy. There are too few clues."

The older officer poured cold water on his enthusiasm. Judging from the traces left at the crime scene, the killer seemed to be a professionally trained assassin or mercenary. Facing so many gunmen, he had still ended the fight with such ruthless efficiency. The very thought of it was terrifying.

"This guy seems to be one of Frank D'Amico's men. Maybe it was a gang vendetta." The young officer recognized the dead middle-aged man.

"Whatever it was, it isn't our business. Just write up the report when the time comes."

The older officer shook his head. He knew there was a specialized agency responsible for handling matters like this. The police department's classified files would all be handed over to those Black-Suited Agents. Even the Police Chief, who was usually in a foul mood, treated those cold, rigid Black-Suited Agents with a smile. It was easy to imagine just how terrifying the power wielded by the secret organization behind them was.

"Seal off the scene. Maybe we'll find some useful clues. Anyway, we can just leave this to those people."

The older officer patted his colleague on the shoulder. There were many truths that could not be pursued, because the facts hidden behind them were often more than people could bear.

At ten in the morning, bright sunlight streamed through the windows and spilled across the lively, noisy classroom.

Leaning back in his seat out of boredom, Sean noticed that Peter Parker was somewhat different from usual. That bookworm had become positively radiant today, as if his entire body were filled with inexhaustible strength. Even his voice was much louder, and he exuded confidence.

Even his best friend Harry Osborn was a little surprised by such a drastic change. He could not understand what Peter had experienced to undergo such an enormous transformation.

Sean, sitting in his seat, curled his lips into a faint smile. Perhaps he was the only one who knew the reason. To his senses, the once incredibly weak Peter had undergone a complete rebirth. His muscles brimmed with power as he walked, and his reactions had become exceptionally quick, as if he had been enhanced several times over. This was the genetic mutation brought about by the Super Spider, granting Peter formidable physical abilities as well as some unimaginable special powers.

"Still, compared to me now, Peter falls just a little short."

Sean compared himself to Peter and concluded that if they truly fought, he should be able to beat this immature Spider-Man until he was crawling all over the ground.

Basking in the noon sunlight, Sean felt thoroughly delighted. Lately, he had been constantly training his body, which accelerated the rate at which he absorbed energy. Especially after undergoing devilish, limit-pushing workouts, he discovered that his physical abilities were still increasing. This made Sean very happy. Room for improvement meant he could continue growing stronger.

In a complex world where Cosmic-Level Gods existed, Sean was far from satisfied with his current strength. He hoped to become even stronger, until he could establish himself in this world and claim a place for himself.

After enduring another mind-numbingly boring afternoon, Sean quickly packed up his things and prepared to go home for his daily training routine. While he was at it, he planned his friendly visit to Mr. Frank D'Amico. That Drug Lord who dominated the West Coast surely never imagined that a high school student was carefully plotting how to eliminate him and his gang.

"Whoa, unbelievable! Peter just beat the hell out of Thompson from the Football Team!"

"You mean that bookworm, Peter Parker?"

"Of course, 'Puny Parker' himself! He pissed Thompson off in the cafeteria just now. Then Thompson tried to give Peter trouble in the hallway, but he got beaten up instead!"

"Did that guy take steroids or something? Thompson is a star player on the Football Team. He's built like a bull!"

Listening to the students quietly spread campus gossip, Sean could not help snickering inwardly. The current Peter Parker was no longer the bookworm who let everyone push him around.

Before long, New York would probably gain a masked weirdo in a red-and-blue suit, descending from the sky on long strands of webbing and knocking a group of criminals to the ground.

After school, Sean saw Peter stride out through the school gates in high spirits. Unlike his former timid, meek self, the high school student now looked like a victorious general returning from battle, head held high and chest out. That was probably the change brought about by great power.

As he walked along the street home, Sean suddenly sensed an unusual gaze fixed on him, as if someone were following and watching him. His heart gave a slight jolt, but he suppressed the urge to turn around. Pretending to be casual, he walked to the entrance of a shop and bought a bottle of soda. In the reflection of a side mirror on a parked car, he saw a man in black wearing sunglasses. The man pretended to buy a newspaper from a newsstand, but his eyes remained fixed on Sean the entire time.

"Have Frank D'Amico's men come looking for me?"

Sean was filled with doubt. Why would a Drug Lord resort to surveillance and tailing? And as he walked on, he realized there was more than one person following him. They appeared to have received professional training. If not for Sean's sharp senses, along with his knowledge of some basic counter-surveillance techniques, he truly would not have noticed them.

"They aren't gangsters, so could they be..."

Sean's expression darkened uncertainly as he recalled a special organization in this world—one that specialized in investigating all kinds of supernatural incidents, dealing with unconventional crises, and incidentally gathering a group of powerful Superheroes into a team.

"They shouldn't have found me so quickly."

Sean thought to himself. He had no desire to come into contact with that special organization so early, especially not with a certain one-eyed Black man. According to the usual movie formula, people who worked for the government never seemed to meet a good end.

He could deal with Mutants, or perhaps chat with that playboy about women and his taste in them, but being pestered by Nick Fury and joining S.H.I.E.L.D. was out of the question.

"Logically speaking, S.H.I.E.L.D. shouldn't have noticed me. Something must have gone wrong."

Sean frowned. It seemed he needed to find out exactly what had happened, or he would remain at a disadvantage.