Meanwhile, completely oblivious to the danger creeping up behind him, Peter Parker stood in front of the FEI Titan Krios electron microscope.
He was excitedly adjusting his camera lens, trying desperately to snap a clear photo of the spider-silk nanostructures displayed on the monitor.
Wham!
Suddenly, a thick, hairy, heavily muscled arm shot out from his blind spot, clamping brutally around his neck in a chokehold that nearly suffocated him on the spot.
Acting on pure instinct, Peter thrashed, his hands clawing desperately at the attacker’s forearm.
But it was entirely useless.
His assailant possessed strength far beyond that of a normal teenager, dragging him violently backward by sheer force.
“Urgh—”
Peter tried to scream for help, but the sound was crushed in his throat.
His frantic struggling caused a minor commotion, but the football players trailing behind them smoothly formed a tight circle, acting as a human shield that expertly blocked everyone else’s line of sight.
Because of their seamless coordination, Peter’s sudden disappearance went completely unnoticed by the vast majority of the lab.
Thud!
Seconds later, Peter was dragged roughly into a nearby restroom.
He was thrown hard, his back slamming heavily against the tiled wall.
“Cough, cough, cough!”
Gasping desperately for air, Peter finally got a clear look at his attacker.
It was Flash Thompson!
Flash grabbed Peter by the collar and hauled him right back up to his feet.
His already unlikable face was twisted even further by sheer rage, thick veins popping along his forehead.
“It was you, wasn’t it?!” Flash demanded, his voice thick with suppressed fury and dripping with malice.
“That video on YouTube!”
His feet dangling slightly off the ground, Peter’s eyes darted around frantically.
“W-what video?
I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he stammered, trying to play dumb.
“Cut the crap!
The video of me getting my ass kicked, the one with over three million views!
Because of that damn video, the entire school is laughing at me!”
Furious, Flash slammed Peter against the wall again.
Feeling the sharp pain in his back and staring into Flash’s murderous eyes—which looked like he wanted to rip Peter limb from limb—Peter swallowed hard.
“I just…
I posted it on a whim…” he confessed, his voice trembling.
“I didn’t think it would go viral…”
However, that excuse was like pouring gasoline on an open fire.
Flash’s pupils shrank, and his free hand balled into a massive fist.
“On a whim?!” he roared.
“You completely destroyed my reputation, and you did it on a whim?!
Let me show you what I can do on a whim!!”
Pinned helplessly against the wall, Peter squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable impact.
“Put him down, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.
But if you dare lay another finger on him, you’re going to have to choose which one of these two things you want shoved into your mouth.”
A calm, steady voice echoed from the restroom entrance.
Hearing that hauntingly familiar tone, Flash instantly froze.
He slowly turned his head.
Sure enough, Julian was standing right in the doorway.
He was casually holding a toilet plunger in his left hand and a dripping wet mop in his right, somehow radiating a bizarrely terrifying aura.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” Julian asked, his voice quiet but leaving absolutely no room for debate.
Flash’s muscles bunched up with tension, but after a long, agonizing second, his grip slowly loosened, dropping Peter’s collar.
“Cough, cough…” Peter slid down the wall, clutching his bruised throat.
“This is between me and Parker!
It has nothing to do with you,” Flash spat stiffly, his eyes deliberately avoiding Julian’s gaze.
Julian didn’t even bother replying to him.
He simply looked down at Peter.
“Wait outside.
I want to have a private chat with him.”
Peter scrambled to his feet.
He glanced at Julian, who looked completely relaxed, and then at Flash, who was wound up as tight as a coiled spring, looking like he was facing his worst nightmare.
An eerie silence filled the room, broken only by the steady drip, drop of a leaky faucet.
“I…
I’ll be right outside.
If things look bad, I’ll call for help immediately,” Peter hastily whispered as he squeezed past Julian.
Julian gave a barely perceptible nod.
Click.
As the restroom door shut, it was just Julian, Flash, and Flash’s burly crew of lackeys left inside.
Staring down the group of meatheads, Julian spoke with cold, crystal clarity.
“Listen up.
I’m the one who humiliated you.
If you have a problem with that, come at me.
But if I ever catch you messing with Peter Parker again…
I swear to God, I will shove this plunger right up your ass.”
To emphasize his point, he casually wiggled the plunger, sweeping a razor-sharp glare across the room.
Flash’s fists clenched and unclenched, a volatile storm of emotions flashing across his face.
Ignoring him entirely, Julian turned his back and reached for the door.
However, right as his fingertips were a mere three inches from the handle, the massive jock in the baseball jacket suddenly lunged!
The two-hundred-pound behemoth charged forward like a runaway freight train, a heavy fist aimed dead at Julian’s temple.
If a punch like that landed solid, it would be more than enough to knock an ordinary person out cold.
Smack!
Julian’s left arm snapped up like an iron bar.
The heavy thud of the block echoed sharply off the bathroom tiles.
Before the jock could even recover from the bone-jarring impact, his vision suddenly went entirely dark!
Squelch!
The foul-smelling rubber cup of the plunger plastered itself solidly over his entire face!
The intense suction, combined with the utterly putrid stench, instantly choked off his air supply.
Without missing a beat, Julian delivered a devastating side kick squarely into the boy’s ribs.
Crack!
The sickening sound of fracturing bone rang out.
The jock flew backward like a broken sack of potatoes, crashing straight through two wooden stall doors before finally coming to a halt in a pile of splinters.
“Aghhh!” he wailed, curling into a tight ball on the floor in sheer agony.
That single strike acted like a starting pistol.
“Dammit!
I’m going to kill you!” Flash roared, his voice shaking the entire restroom.
The remaining five heavyweights rushed Julian all at once, their combined weight literally making the floor tiles vibrate.
Julian calmly took a half-step back.
He thrust the mop handle forward like a spear.
Thwack!
The blunt end drove perfectly into the gut of the closest attacker.
The guy’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets.
But before the gastric acid spewing from his mouth could even hit the floor, a brutal uppercut caught him flush on the jaw.
Bang!
The sickening crack of the back of his skull bouncing off the tiled wall was enough to make anyone wince.
Swoosh!
A sharp gust of wind came from the left.
Julian seamlessly ducked under a wild haymaker, swinging the toilet plunger out in a smooth, retaliatory arc.
Smack!
The rubber suction cup—which was conspicuously stained with some sort of crusty, yellowish-brown residue—latched firmly onto the attacker’s cheek.
Using the momentum, Julian yanked hard.
The guy completely lost his balance and stumbled face-first into his own buddy’s incoming knee strike.
Crunch!
Blood exploded from his shattered nose, spraying across the vanity mirror like a blooming red flower.
Whoosh!
Spotting a fleeting opening, Flash launched a cowardly sneak attack from behind.
His massive, meat-hook fist tore through the air, aimed directly at the center of Julian’s back—a desperate, raging punch carrying enough raw force to shatter solid wood.