Preparations were well underway.
After Penny learned about my abilities and my desire to become a superhero, she seemed torn between two feelings.
On one hand, she clearly liked the idea of forming a superhero team.
On the other, she obviously wanted me to stay safe.
Men simply weren’t expected to put themselves in danger in this world.
The rare exceptions only proved the rule.
Still, she respected my opinion enough not to push the issue.
Finding a place to train in martial arts, however, turned out to be a problem.
Finding a club that trained men was quite a challenge.
Activities like that weren’t particularly popular among the local guys.
There were plenty of fitness, gymnastics, yoga, and figure skating classes, though.
The first two options weren’t necessarily bad, but they weren’t exactly what I needed right now.
Eventually, I managed to find a kickboxing gym.
It was quite far from home, and the prices weren’t exactly cheap, especially since I wanted a personal trainer.
Still, I wasn’t about to cut corners when it came to my own safety.
“Listen…” The beautiful, athletic African-American woman who was supposed to become my personal trainer chewed thoughtfully on her lip, clearly trying to find a way to phrase her next words without offending me.
“Are you sure you really need this?”
“I’m sure.”
I calmly nodded.
Her skepticism wasn’t surprising.
I looked like a typical pampered rich kid.
I was skinny, with a handsome, almost feminine face and not the slightest hint of facial hair.
A perfectly straight black bob with one stylishly dyed gray streak, combined with obviously expensive clothes, completed the picture.
And considering what I knew about the local men, I could confidently say she’d probably dealt with more than enough of them.
So I wasn’t offended by her gentle attempt to talk me out of it.
“Rosa Williams,” she introduced herself.
She sighed, although she tried to hide it, then motioned for me to follow her into the training hall.
I’d already changed, so there was nothing stopping us from getting started.
As I followed her, though, I quickly realized the training was going to be difficult for several reasons.
Her athletic shorts looked more like underwear and exposed a considerable portion of her backside.
Her top was another matter.
It was closed and supportive enough to keep everything in place, but it was so tight that it left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
And almost every woman in the gym was dressed similarly.
How exactly was I supposed to concentrate under these circumstances?
I wasn’t complaining about the view, but I had come here to get into shape.
Unfortunately, it seemed that something else was getting into shape first.
Thank God Penny wasn’t with me.
Her enhanced body in an outfit like this would have been lethal.
We’d originally wanted to train at the same place, but every gym that accepted male students was too expensive for her.
She was incredibly embarrassed about it.
It took quite a bit of effort to convince her not to feel bad, and I’m not entirely sure I succeeded.
The training itself wasn’t particularly remarkable.
We warmed up, then moved on to practicing punches.
Rosa was pleasantly surprised when she saw that I already knew how to throw a proper punch.
My kicks, however, were far less impressive.
In my previous life, I’d practiced boxing, so I was reasonably good with my fists.
Proper footwork, on the other hand, was something I’d never really learned.
That didn’t bother my trainer.
She patiently corrected me over and over, explaining exactly what I was doing wrong.
Her attitude toward me changed somewhat over the course of the session.
At first, Rosa had been extremely restrained, obviously worried that I might throw a tantrum.
Once she realized I wasn’t going to whine or complain, though, she became considerably tougher on me.
By the end of the session, I was completely exhausted.
My sweat-soaked hair stuck unpleasantly to my face, and I couldn’t exactly say I was pleased with myself.
This body’s physical condition was even worse than I’d expected.
I had a lot of work ahead of me.
“Well, Sam, I can confidently say you did better than most of the guys who come here,” Rosa said after I’d showered and changed.
“Here. This is your diet. If you want to put on some muscle, I recommend sticking to it.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
I smiled gratefully and accepted the sheet of paper she handed me.
Martial arts weren’t the only thing I trained in, either.
I visited a shooting range a couple of times.
I had no intention of becoming a professional marksman or making firearms my primary weapon.
Killing people during my superhero activities was a surefire way to end up on the wanted list, and I didn’t need that kind of pain in the ass.
Still, there was no way to predict how things would turn out.
I figured I should at least make sure I wouldn’t shoot myself in the knee if I ever had to use a gun.
Penny took care of our main weapons.
The little genius had not only created the web-shooters and the web fluid for them, but had also made me wrist-mounted shockers similar to the ones Black Widow used.
That girl was frighteningly smart and talented.
When you watch Peter Parker create a unique chemical compound and a device to deliver it under improvised conditions on a screen, it somehow feels less impressive.
It’s a superhero movie.
What else do you expect?
Seeing something like that happen in real life was an entirely different experience.
Penny had made web-shooters for me as well.
I couldn’t swing around with them the way Parker did.
I wasn’t nearly as strong as him, and I would probably dislocate my shoulders long before I got the chance to enjoy the flight.
Even without that, though, the weapon was incredibly dangerous in the right hands.
I didn’t spend much time thinking about the costume.
What I ended up with was basically an unapologetic Corvo Attano cosplay.
I only toned down the mask because I didn’t want people mistaking me for a supervillain.
Ideally, I’d have found something more durable, like Daredevil’s suit, which was apparently capable of surviving a bullet to the head.
Unfortunately, I had no idea where to find suitable material.
So I settled for a lightweight bulletproof vest worn underneath the costume.
Thankfully, buying one wasn’t a problem.
We worked in Penny’s room.
She used to repair old computers and various household appliances, so there were always plenty of circuit boards, microchips, and wires scattered around.
We could have buried a spaceship beneath all that junk and nobody would have noticed, let alone a pile of superhero equipment.
For the moment, though, we were simply relaxing on the couch in her living room.
Our preparations had already been going on for several weeks, and they had been pretty intense.
It felt good to finally relax in my girlfriend’s arms.
Penny practically lived alone in her aunt’s house.
Her aunt spent most of her time with her husband at the home of his first wife, but she hadn’t forgotten about her niece.
She visited regularly, checked in on her problems, and supported her financially.
That was despite the fact that, as was customary here, most of her money went toward supporting her husband.
“Do you think we’re ready?” Penny asked nervously, tearing her eyes away from the screen.
“As ready as we’re ever going to be,” I answered honestly, meeting her gaze.
I wasn’t exaggerating.
I’d already made my first real progress in martial arts.
Parker, meanwhile, had become the best person in her class surprisingly quickly.
Her spider-sense, enhanced strength, and improved reflexes made her practically unbeatable against ordinary people.
And that was while she was deliberately holding back in the gym so she wouldn’t seriously hurt anyone.
At least I wasn’t gasping for breath and drenched in sweat for ten minutes after hitting a punching bag anymore.
Our weapons had been tested and retested.
The costumes were ready.
We’d bought a small portable first-aid kit, and I’d memorized the first-aid manual almost word for word.
We’d also studied our abilities and their limitations as thoroughly as possible.
“This weekend,” I continued, trying to sound confident.
“Are you sure?” she asked worriedly.
No, she wasn’t being cowardly.
If it weren’t for me and my insistence on being prepared for everything, she’d probably already be swinging through the city on webs and catching criminals.
I felt a little guilty about holding her back.
Especially considering that she’d made practically all of our equipment herself.
The only thing I’d made was my costume.
At the same time, she felt awkward because I’d covered most of the expenses.
“I’m sure. It’s not like I’m suggesting we go after the strongest supervillains right away. We’ll walk around the city, see who we can help, and take it from there.”
“Okay.”
Penny exhaled, clearly trying to suppress her anxiety.
“But you have to promise me you’ll be careful!”
“Why do you say that like I’m the only one who needs to worry?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Because you’re my boyfriend, and your safety is my top priority,” Parker said seriously.
“And you’re my girlfriend. You should understand that no matter how strong you are, I’m going to worry about you too.”
I matched her serious tone, but I couldn’t resist adding, “Besides, it would be a huge loss if something happened to that cute ass of yours.”
Penny’s face turned bright red at the comment.
Over the past few weeks, she’d become much more confident around me, but her lack of relationship experience still showed.
It was surprisingly easy to embarrass her.
This time, though, she recovered rather quickly.
“If you ever want to get your hands on this ass, you’d better start worrying about your own safety.”
“I swear I’ll protect my ass with my life.”
I put a hand over my heart and bowed my head dramatically.
Parker clearly wasn’t impressed.
“Seriously, Penny. Think about who started this whole preparation thing in the first place.”
I paused, then added, “If it really matters that much to you to hear me say it, then I promise I’ll be careful. But you have to promise me the same thing. Deal?”
“Deal.”
She nodded with satisfaction.
“Can I touch your ass now?”
Penny’s face took on an absolutely hilarious expression.
She seemed unable to decide whether she should be embarrassed, laugh, or get angry.
“Sure.”