“I understand, Dad,” Clark replied sincerely.
Even if he stepped in to help, he always kept a level head—he wasn’t the type to rush in blindly.
And from a father’s perspective, this kind of situation really was dangerous.
“Jameson is planning to expose the black-market tech chain on the front page next week,” Ben added as he finished eating and gathered his papers, preparing to head out.
“He wants to pressure the NYPD into forming a dedicated anti–high-tech crime unit.”
He paused at the door and looked back.
“You two behave at school.
Come straight home afterward.”
His gaze lingered on Peter.
“Especially you, Peter.
Be careful out there.”
“Got it, Uncle Ben,” Peter nodded obediently.
Still, trouble had a way of finding people—even when they tried to avoid it.
Morning classes passed quickly, and Midtown High buzzed with energy again.
Peter stood in front of his locker, organizing his books for the afternoon—
But his mind was elsewhere.
The gauntlet.
Its internal structure.
And Ben’s warning from breakfast.
From the end of the hallway, MJ spotted him and walked over briskly.
There were faint dark circles under her eyes—she clearly hadn’t slept well.
“Peter…”
He jumped slightly at her voice, turning around quickly.
His expression stiffened with nervous concern as he shut his locker.
“Oh—MJ.
Are you okay today?
Clark told me what happened last night… I’m really sorry.
I should’ve insisted on walking you home.”
Seeing him like this—awkward, anxious, genuinely worried—
MJ felt a quiet warmth spread through her chest.
She wasn’t upset.
If anything, his concern made her happy.
“I’m fine,” she smiled, reaching out to straighten his slightly messy collar.
“Clark handled it.”
Not far away, Clark leaned casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking effortlessly cool.
Watching the scene unfold, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
He’d done everything he could as an older brother.
The rest…
Was up to Peter.
Now it was just a matter of when this dense idiot would finally figure things out.
Right on cue, Harry appeared, strolling over with a can of soda in hand.
He slowed as he passed Peter—
His eyes catching a glimpse of the sketch in Peter’s hand.
Harry stopped.
“Hey, Peter,” he said, pointing at the drawing.
“That design… looks familiar.
Is that some kind of kinetic launcher?”
Peter froze.
He quickly hid the sketch behind his back, stammering slightly—clearly caught off guard that someone recognized it.
“Uh… y-yeah.
I saw something like it in a science magazine.
Thought it was interesting, so I sketched it down.”
Harry nodded as if it were obvious, not pressing further. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Instead, a proud smile spread across his face.
“You got the design right,” he said casually.
“It was actually developed by a subsidiary under Oscorp.
Last year, it was part of a deep-sea mining project.
But funding got cut, so it was shelved.
I heard some of the discarded prototypes were sold off in bulk.”
Hearing that from the young heir himself, it confirmed one thing—
Uncle Ben’s intel was spot on.
Whether there was a mole inside…
Or whether the system itself was the leak—
Either way, the source was clear.
Harry noticed the curiosity burning in Peter’s eyes, and an idea seemed to form.
“Peter, are you interested in advanced tech?
Mechanical systems, bioengineering?”
He leaned against the locker, tone turning inviting.
“My father always complains that people our age only care about games.
He respects real talent—actual minds, not mediocrity.”
Then he glanced at Clark, and at MJ beside him.
“This weekend, there’s a private exhibition at Oscorp Tower—cross-species genetics and neuro-mechanical systems.
I’ve got a few VIP passes.
Areas that aren’t usually open.”
He smiled slightly.
“Want to see what cutting-edge technology really looks like?”
Peter’s eyes lit up instantly.
For someone like him—
This was the equivalent of offering a kid a trip to Disneyland.
“Really?!
That’s amazing!” he blurted out, barely holding back his excitement.
Clark looked at Harry, a flicker of thought passing through his mind.
The little devil in his head was already screaming:
“Trap!
They’re going to dissect us—run!”
But Clark didn’t stop it.
He didn’t refuse.
Because fate—
Wasn’t something you could simply sidestep.
All he could do…
Was stay by Peter’s side.
And make sure he stayed safe.
“That sounds like a great weekend plan,” Clark said with a relaxed smile.
“Count me in.”
Harry seemed genuinely pleased.
He liked Clark—this easygoing, solid guy was the first real friend he’d made at Midtown.
“I’m coming too!” MJ chimed in, stepping closer to Peter.
“I want to see it as well.”
“No problem.
We’re friends,” Harry said, handing the passes directly to Peter.
It was his way of letting Peter choose—
And also of expanding his circle.
“Alright, I’ll head to lunch first.
See you guys there.”
The group nodded—it wasn’t like they’d be apart for long.
Clark followed shortly after.
As for who would go and who wouldn’t—
He left that decision entirely to Peter.
He didn’t like making choices for others.
But his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
To the people behind those high-tech weapons.
If the Daily Bugle exposed everything next week…
There would be backlash.
Jameson would be targeted.
And Uncle Ben—
As deputy editor—
Would be next.
Clark’s expression grew slightly heavier.
He would need to keep a closer eye on Ben… and on all of them.
Because when criminals were cornered—
There was no telling what they might do.
And yet, that was the duty of journalists.
Even with danger looming—
They would still expose the truth.
Lost in thought, Clark finished his lunch.
But things didn’t stay quiet for long.
Felicia Hardy showed up again—casually sliding into a seat beside him, clearly enjoying the attention she was stirring.
Across the table, Gwen was practically baring her teeth, trying very hard not to drag Felicia away herself.
And Clark wasn’t the only one with a headache.
Peter had one too.
He stared at the passes in his hand.
Counting silently.
MJ.
Clark.
Eddie.
Gwen.
Himself.
…Maybe Cindy too.
Then his eyes drifted toward Felicia—
Who was currently teasing his brother without mercy.
A mischievous thought surfaced.
He wanted to see Clark suffer a little.
So he spoke.
“Um… Felicia,” Peter said, looking at Felicia, “we’re going to visit a tech exhibition this weekend.
Want to come with us?”
Felicia turned toward him, slightly puzzled.
Peter added, very deliberately:
“My brother’s going too.”
That did it.
Felicia’s interest immediately spiked.
And at the same time—
Clark and Gwen both turned to glare at Peter.
If looks could kill—
Peter would already be dead.