Catching a Little Spider in Passing 15: Chapter 15: Leaving Work is Justified!
Catching a Little Spider in Passing The wind in Queens was light, but standing at the doorway, Luke still felt a bit irritable.
It wasn’t because of the weather.
It was because the system had just popped up a reward panel.
“Today’s Special Reward: Kizaru Admiral Suit (Limited Edition)” Luke stared at the preview image of the outfit for three seconds, his eyes gradually going dead.
It was golden, blindingly bright, like a Sun wearing a coat; wearing the whole thing would probably provide a path for others in the dark.
This thing was called a “Limited Edition.” Limited to what?
Limited to blinding people?
Luke gave the system a bad review in his mind, then closed the preview image of the outfit and raised his hand to knock on the door.
Aunt Mei’s voice came from inside.
“Coming, coming—” Footsteps approached from afar, and Luke adjusted his expression.
Just at that moment, the door next to him moved.
Sharon Carter poked half her body out from next door, brown hair, sharp, with keen eyes—then, seeing Luke, her expression became just a bit subtle.
Just for a moment, then she quickly pulled it back.
But Luke had very good eyes.
He saw the capitalized, bolded “?!” in Sharon Carter’s heart perfectly clearly.
The subtext was also very clear: You, an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., really leave work right on time?
Sharon’s gaze swept across his face, landed on the almost-empty bottle of cola in his hand, then drifted to his body.
Casual clothes, relaxed, wearing something on his feet that was hard to tell if it was loafers or sneakers; in short, it exuded a vibe of “I am completely not in work mode.” “…” “What’s wrong?” Luke revealed a kindly smile, the curve of his lips just right, even his eyes crinkling, smiling as harmlessly as a big brother next door.
Sharon snapped back to reality, casually adjusted her expression, and said in a natural tone: “Nothing, it’s just, you got off work so early?” She paused, “At this time, shouldn’t you be…” “Working?” “Yeah.” Luke lifted the cola and shook it, his expression calm, his tone even calmer, calm to the point of sounding like he was stating a philosophy of life: “What about work?
Leaving work on time is a matter of course.” He paused for a second.
Honestly, what about work?
As for the Iron Man fighting Iron Monger storyline, it wasn’t like he didn’t know how the plot went.
This wasn’t because he didn’t care about Tony Stark’s safety; he knew this plot arc inside and out, reciting it even more smoothly than the script.
Obadiah caused trouble, Iron Monger ran out; on the surface, it was a crisis for Tony, but the real variable was concentrated in Pepper’s storyline, not because there was any issue with Tony’s own combat capabilities.
War Machine would arrive on the scene.
Rhodes was the kind of buddy who would definitely show up when you were in trouble, so he didn’t need to worry too much.
After being saved, Tony would fight Iron Monger one-on-one; technically, he could totally win, no need for someone to hold his hand.
He had already diverted people from the nearby streets in advance, blocked the roads that needed blocking, and notified those who needed notifying.
He had done his best and had a clear conscience.
Did he really need to go be a cheerleader for Tony, waving a little flag and shouting “Go, go, go” on the side?
No thanks, he still had dinner to eat.
Luke pulled his thoughts back and squeezed out a simple, honest smile at Sharon.
“I’ve always been one to leave work on time.” He wasn’t in a rush, his tone very flat.
“Unlike some people who fill their entire lives with work, on call twenty-four hours a day, checking their phones while eating, keeping an ear open while sleeping, never using a single day of annual leave, completely forgetting what a weekend feels like, with zero life experience.” He was talking to the air, having nothing to do with anyone, not targeting any specific existence.
Sharon didn’t speak from the crack of the door.
Luke looked back at her, switched to a more considerate face, and tilted his chin toward her.
“However, seeing that you’re home right now, it shows you’re definitely not that kind of person, right?” The smile Sharon had forced out hung there for about a second.
It was a bit forced.
It was a bit shattered.
How many years had she been working at S.H.I.E.L.D.
again?
What year was the last time she used up her annual leave?
Keeping half her mind active while sleeping had long since become muscle memory; when was the last time she ate a meal peacefully without staring at her phone— Isn’t this just you describing me, damn it?
Sharon barely managed to suppress that smile and nodded.
Luke was satisfied, and the topic was dropped there.
The door opened at this moment.
Aunt Mei, wearing a floral apron, looked at him smilingly: “Su, you’re here!
Come in quickly!” Luke immediately put away his previous attitude, put on a normal face, politely greeted Aunt Mei, and entered the door.
Usually, he would definitely stay a bit longer at Aunt Mei’s place, chat for a bit, and incidentally show off his charming image.
But not today.
He had been worrying about one unresolved matter since this morning.
Little Spider.
Peter Parker, in his teens, Spider-Man, his superpowers hadn’t fully developed yet, but his guts had already developed beyond his body weight; he rushed into dangerous places every other day.
Every time Luke thought about it, he felt like the kid was practicing his abilities by risking his life.
If he kept letting it go, before the abilities were fully out, the person would be gone first.
“Is Peter here?
I’d like to chat with him for a moment.” Aunt Mei called out toward the end of the hallway: “Peter!
Peter, Luke is here to see you—” No response.
Luke glanced toward the hallway, not surprised at all, and turned to smile at Aunt Mei: “I’ll go find him myself.” Aunt Mei waved her hand: “Go ahead, go ahead.
I don’t know what that kid is tinkering with again; you help me check on him.” Luke walked over, stood still at the door of Peter’s room, and raised his hand to knock twice— No response.
He paused for a second and pushed the door open.
Then he saw the most classic “caught in the act” scene he had ever seen in his life.
Peter Parker was standing in the middle of the room, panicked to the extreme; the shirt on his upper body wasn’t fully off, his arm was stuck in the sleeve, and his whole body was twisted into an unsightly shape— And on the floor, the Spider-Man suit was folded messily, just lying there, blatant, red and blue, with the spider emblem facing up, quite conspicuous.
Both of them froze at the same time.
Peter’s movement froze in mid-air, his expression congealed; it felt exactly like a “computer blue screen waiting to reboot.” Luke slowly lowered his head, glanced at the clothes on the floor, then raised his head and glanced at Peter.
Then glanced at the floor again.
Then glanced at Peter again.
He closed the door again, leaned his back against the door panel, held the empty cola can in his hand, his expression as pleasant as a spring breeze.
“Yo,” his voice was very calm, calm to the point of sounding like he was talking about the weather, “This suit is quite cool.” Peter: “…” “Planning to go out right after school?” Luke tapped the empty can against his palm, his tone leisurely, the corners of his mouth curving upward; in that smile, there was a gentleness that made one’s back turn cold, “That’s perfect, let’s sit down and have a chat.” The sunlight from outside the window slanted in, shining on the Spider-Man suit on the floor, appearing exceptionally striking.
Peter Parker felt his heart skip a beat.