The remnants of the Grass Stain Gang were so terrified they couldn’t even hold their drugs steady.
Razor’s corpse was still smoking, and the gun barrel was already aimed at them.
The Mexican man in the tailored suit squatted down and spat on Razor’s face.
“Remember for next time—greed gets you killed.” He stood up and scanned the trembling crowd.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an overwhelming pressure.
“Now, who among you is in charge?” Silence hung over the crowd for several seconds before a yellow-haired goon bit the bullet and shuffled half a step forward, his voice shaking like a leaf.
“I-I am.” “Very good.” The man adjusted his tie.
“Next week, same time.
Deliver on schedule.
If anything goes wrong—even a little—his fate will be yours.” Like the remaining gang members, Peter quickly evacuated the warehouse.
Sitting on the warehouse roof, he stared at the playback on his camera, completely in shock.
They had murdered someone in cold blood right out in the open.
Peter pulled off his mask and couldn’t help keeling over to dry-heave.
Before this, he couldn’t stand gruesome scenes at all, let alone witness a mangled corpse with his own eyes.
But now he had to think: what should he do with this footage?
Keep it?
Destroy it?
Could it be useful?
He didn’t know.
But one thing was clear—the world he was trying to challenge was ruthless.
One wrong step, and the people he loved could lose their lives.
He hurried home as fast as he could.
As he snuck through the woods toward his yard, he saw Harry standing outside Mary Jane’s window.
Mary’s eyes were rimmed with red, and her window was open—she had clearly snuck out to meet him.
“What’s so wrong with me?” Harry’s voice sounded like he was gritting his teeth.
“Why won’t you just be with me?” Mary Jane looked down, her voice barely a whisper.
“Harry, I’ve told you.
I just see you as a friend.
I don’t feel that way about you.” “No feelings?” Harry sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“What, am I not rich enough for you?
Not handsome enough?” “No!
Can you stop thinking like that!” Mary Jane looked up, desperate to defend herself, but Harry cut her off harshly halfway through.
“Is it because of Peter Parker?” The moment those words left his mouth, Mary Jane froze.
Behind the tree, Peter was stunned too, his mind going blank.
*Wait, what does this have to do with me?
How did I get dragged into this conversation?* Harry glared at her face, lowering his voice.
“Is it?
You like him, so you’re turning me down?” “No!” Mary Jane shook her head immediately.
“Peter and I are just normal friends!
I just…
I just feel bad about how I treated him before.” “Feel bad?” Harry laughed, a harsh, grating sound.
“In plain English, you pity him, right?” Mary Jane pressed her lips together.
After a few seconds of hesitation, she gave a soft nod.
“…Yeah.” Behind the tree, Peter rolled his eyes.
*Pity me?* *Who is she pitying?
Does she seriously think she’s some kind of saint?* Having gotten his answer, the last drop of patience vanished from Harry’s face.
He glared at Mary Jane for a few seconds, spat out a bitter “Ungrateful brat,” then turned and climbed into his car.
The engine roared loudly, and the car shot forward.
Peter snorted internally: *Driving that fast, you better not crash into a ditch.
Knowing my luck, they’d blame that on me too.* The taillights quickly vanished around the corner.
Mary Jane leaned against the fence, her shoulders shaking, and before long, quiet sobs echoed in the night.
Peter stood behind the tree for a while.
By rights, he should have walked away—less trouble was always better.
But seeing the girl crying out here alone, he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave her like that.
After two seconds of inner conflict, he rounded the corner into the alley, shoved his mask and web-shooters into his jacket pocket, dusted himself off, and walked over as if he were just passing by.
He softly asked Mary Jane why she was crying.
She snapped her head up and saw him, her eyes going wide.
Hurriedly wiping away her tears, she stammered, “P-Peter?
What…
what are you doing here?
How much did you…
hear?” Peter spread his hands, looking completely innocent.
“I was just coming from over there when I saw Harry’s car speed off like he was running for his life.
What happened, another fight?” He paused and added, “Honestly, if you had just used that tone to lay it out clearly to him earlier, would he really keep bothering you every day?” Mary Jane sighed and apologized for her earlier temper.
Peter chuckled and teased her, saying it was normal for redheads to have fiery tempers, telling her not to take that jerk’s words to heart.
“It’s not that…” Mary Jane shook her head.
“Harry isn’t actually a bad guy.
He’s just too stubborn sometimes.
He’s smart, and he’s good with words…” “And rich,” Peter chimed in casually.
Mary Jane glared at him.
“I’m not that kind of person!” “Alright, alright, you’re not,” Peter said, holding his hands up in surrender.
“So you just plain don’t like him.
If you don’t want to date him, don’t.
It’s no big deal—you shouldn’t force yourself just to have a boyfriend.” Mary Jane blinked, looking at him.
“You…
really think so?” “Why wouldn’t I?” Peter shrugged.
“Just say those exact words to Harry, and to anyone else who tries to hit on you later, and you’re set.
Living your own life is what matters most.” Mary Jane went silent for a moment, then gave a soft nod.
“…Thank you, Peter.” “Don’t mention it.” Peter waved a hand and turned to leave.
“Get inside soon, before you catch a cold out here.
Good night.” “Peter!” He had only taken two steps when Mary Jane called out to him again from behind.
Peter stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“I really am sorry,” the girl said, her voice slightly nasal.
“You were the first friend I made after moving here, but before, I…” “It’s fine,” Peter interrupted, his tone even.
“I’m used to it.
Get inside.” With that, he didn’t linger any longer and walked straight into the alley.
He watched Mary Jane climb back through her window before circling back to the woods and climbing up the tree to get back into his house.
Once he heard the soft click of her window closing behind him, he climbed down the tree into his own yard.
After taking a hot shower, waddling his dusty clothes into a ball, and stuffing them under his bed, Peter collapsed onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Kingpin wanted the Grass Stain Gang to keep dealing drugs, while the gang wanted to break free from Kingpin’s control.
A gang war was inevitable, and many people would die.
How was he supposed to resolve this?
And then there was his love life—what on earth was going on with that?
Damn it, he hated reliving puberty the most!
The next day at school, Peter immediately sensed something off.
People in the hallway were staring at him.
He glared back until they guiltily averted their eyes.
He walked over to his locker to grab his textbook for the first period when his spider-sense suddenly went off frantically.
He ducked immediately, and a basketball zipped past his scalp, slamming into the locker door before bouncing away.
Turning his head, he saw Flash and Harry staring at him in utter disbelief.
Flash had clearly been the one who threw the ball.
The hallway went quiet, everyone watching the spectacle.
“Hand slipped,” Flash said, regaining his composure and shrugging with a completely nonchalant air.
Peter stared at him and scoffed.
“Hand slipped?
If you can’t even hold onto a ball, you might as well quit the football team now before you start handing out free points in real games.” With that, he unlocked his locker, grabbed his books, and turned on his heel.
“Parker!
Get back here!” Flash’s face flushed bright red, and he roared, stepping forward to give chase.
“Forget it.” Harry held out an arm to stop him, a cold smirk curling his lips.
“Why bother getting worked up over him?
He’s all talk.
If it comes to blows, he’ll run faster than anyone.” During first period English, Peter could still feel the strange looks from all around him.
Even Mary Jane looked like she wanted to say something but hesitated.
He couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation.
If he were already wearing the red-and-blue suit, he might be paranoid that his secret identity had been exposed.
But what was this supposed to be?
By lunchtime, those looks were driving him insane.
He ducked into the chemistry lab to escape, only to find someone was already inside when he pushed open the door.
It was Reggie, a heavy-set guy who was an outcast at school just like him—quiet, but with excellent grades.
“Hey, Reggie,” Peter greeted him.
“Hi, Peter.” Reggie looked up, gave him a smile, then lowered his head to continue working on his problems.
The lab was quiet.
Peter sat on the other side, but he still felt annoyed and baffled.
After hesitating for a moment, he spoke up anyway.
“Reggie, can I ask you something?” “Hmm?
Go ahead.” “Do you get the feeling…
everyone’s acting weird today?
They keep staring at me.” Peter rubbed his nose.
“Or did I grow a flower on my face?” Reggie put down his pen, looked at him for two seconds, and nodded.
“Oh, that.
Rumor has it that you and Mary Jane are dating.” Peter: “…Huh?” “Harry’s been spreading it everywhere,” Reggie said, adjusting his glasses.
“He says Mary Jane turned him down for you, and then you turned Mary Jane down, saying…
saying you don’t date idiots.” Peter was speechless.
*???* *When the hell did I ever say that?* “Just because of that?” he asked, looking bewildered.
“What else?” Reggie shrugged.
“You don’t usually talk to people, you answer every question the teachers ask in class, and sometimes you even stump them.
Everyone thinks you’re way too smart, so they’re a little…
intimidated by you.
Since nobody hangs out with you anyway, it’s only natural for rumors to spread.” Peter opened his mouth, unable to say anything for a long moment.
*Alright then.
So the original Peter’s ‘loner genius’ persona really was deeply ingrained in everyone’s minds.* If he were in their shoes and had someone in class who kept to himself every day and flexed overwhelming IQ over everyone, he’d stay far away too.
If Bruce Wayne sat next to him, he wouldn’t even dare to breathe heavily.
“Thanks, Reggie.” He sighed, stood up, and left the lab.
As soon as he stepped out, he ran right into Mary Jane and Liz.
The moment Liz saw him, her face dropped, her glare sharp as a knife.
“Peter, we need to talk to you,” Mary Jane spoke up first, looking a bit embarrassed.
“Oh.
Shoot, what’s up?” Peter leaned against the wall, acting nonchalant.
“It’s just…
Harry…” Mary Jane bit her lip.
“He’s been lying to people around school, saying we’re dating.
I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.” Peter widened his eyes in mock surprise.
“Huh?
Seriously?
That’s way too much!” Mary Jane froze, looking at him.
“You…
you’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Peter burst out laughing.
“What do you think?” “How can you make jokes at a time like this!” Liz couldn’t hold back any longer, frowning deeply.
“Harry’s furious right now.
Who knows what he’ll do to mess with you?
He might even get the football team to corner you!” “Corner me?” Peter raised an eyebrow.
“It’s fine.
I run fast—they won’t catch me.” He looked at Mary Jane, his tone softening a bit.
“Alright, it’s no big deal.
I’m not taking it to heart.
Don’t worry too much about it either—give it a few days and people will move on.” Without waiting for either of them to reply, he waved a hand and walked off.
School bullying?
Jocks cornering him?
Honestly, Peter didn’t give a damn.
If Harry kept his head down, they could mind their own business.
Unless he somehow snagged a glider, donned a Green Goblin mask, and injected himself with super-soldier serum one day, he really wasn’t worth Peter’s concern.
Compared to taking down the Grass Stain Gang, this school drama was pure child’s play.
He walked up to his locker, intending to put away the books he didn’t need.
Just as his fingers brushed the door handle, his spider-sense went off again.
Peter reacted instantly, taking a sharp step back.
With a loud hiss, a thick burst of white foam sprayed out from the seams of the locker door, splashing all over the floor.
“Woah, Parker, lucky dodge.” Harry strolled over from the side, arms crossed, a gloating smirk plastered across his face.
Peter looked at the locker filled with foam, then turned his gaze to him.
“Did you see who did it?” he asked in a flat tone.
Harry threw his hands up in mock innocence.
“Nope.
Just walked over and saw it explode.” “Is that so?” Peter’s eyes went cold.
Without wasting another word on Harry, he raised his hand and slammed the locker door shut with a loud *BANG*, squeezing out foam through the cracks onto the floor.
Peter turned and walked away, his back showing no trace of emotion.
But in his heart, he had changed his mind.
*Alright then.* *I wasn’t going to lower myself to your level.* *Since you’re practically begging for trouble, it looks like I’ll have to take this a little seriously and teach you a lesson in how to behave.*