Ryan Quinn climbed out of bed, his body feeling like it was falling apart.
Ever since he’d come home from school, his body had felt heavy.
He had planned to just take a nap, but when he opened his eyes, the sky was pitch black.
He let out a yawn, grabbed a jacket to throw over his shoulders, and dragged his feet downstairs.
The Queens wind rushed into his collar, chilly.
The streetlights stretched his shadow long.
He squinted as he glanced at it, feeling like his shadow was a bit paler than other people’s.
Whatever, he was too lazy to think about it.
That specific perception was buzzing in his head, annoying as hell.
He sighed, shoved his hands into his pockets, and slowly drifted toward Canal Street.
The alley was deep.
Two streetlights were out, making it eerily dark.
Thompson was wrapped in a heavy coat, his steps staggering and his face deathly pale, covered in sweat.
Ever since his confrontation with Ryan Quinn during the day, his body hadn’t been right.
First came the fever, which he thought was just a cold, but then the fever broke.
He was hungry—but not in his stomach.
As he went deeper into the alley, a figure loomed in the darkness ahead.
The person stood with arms crossed, one foot braced against the wall, leaning back.
Thompson reached the light of a streetlamp and recognized the face.
He froze.
“Alex?
You…
what are you doing here?” His voice shook, a chill crawling up his spine.
“Ah…
waiting for you, Thompson.” Ryan Quinn leaned against the wall, his tone lazy.
The next second, Ryan Quinn moved.
Thompson didn’t even see it.
Ryan Quinn was suddenly in his face.
A hand clamped around his neck and hoisted him up.
Thompson grabbed desperately at Ryan Quinn’s arm with both hands, his feet kicking wildly in the air, but the arm remained immovable.
“Mgh—!” With his throat constricted, even breathing was difficult, let alone making a sound.
Thompson saw Ryan Quinn’s eyes.
There was no emotion, just an expression of annoyance.
It was as if strangling him was no different from taking out the trash—a chore that had to be done so he could get back to sleep as soon as possible.
Thompson had ruled the school for three years.
He had beaten up enough people to fill a football team.
He had seen anger, fear, and humiliation, but he had never seen a gaze like this.
It was as if he were nothing more than a line item on a to-do list.
Terror seeped out from the marrow of his bones.
This guy really would kill him.
Just as Ryan Quinn was about to finish it— “Hey, buddy, can we just cool it for a second?” A voice came from behind, intentionally deepened and disguised.
Ryan Quinn’s ears twitched.
His Blacklight-enhanced hearing stripped away the disguise completely.
Gwen Stacy.
Ryan Quinn sighed inwardly.
This was getting troublesome.
Seeing the newcomer, Thompson’s eyes lit up instantly.
Using the last of his strength, he squeezed a few words out of his throat.
“Spi…
Spider-Woman…
help…” “Uh-huh, that’s me.” Gwen shrugged, her tone somewhat nonchalant.
“I thought I didn’t have such a great reputation among New York citizens.” Spider…
Woman?
Ryan Quinn’s mind turned the thought over.
Spider-Woman was Gwen?
What about Peter Parker?
Had the plot already started?
How far had it progressed?
Whatever, now wasn’t the time to ponder that.
Ryan Quinn slowly pulled up his hood, the wide brim masking most of his face.
Then he spoke in a low, muffled voice, his tone still lazy.
“Spider-Woman, huh…
Aren’t the police chasing you?” “Getting caught isn’t really my style,” Gwen tilted her head.
“Besides, I’m not a criminal, why would the cops chase me?
I say, buddy, can you put the guy down so we can settle this peacefully?” Gwen was still trying to talk him down.
She hadn’t recognized the person as her classmate; she just thought he was some random thug.
She really didn’t have the stomach for a fight tonight, so she was making an exception by trying to talk first.
“Ehh…
I decline.” The words had barely left his lips.
*Crack.* The sound echoed through the alley, as sharp as a dry branch snapping.
Before Thompson could even react, his neck was broken.
The expression on his face froze.
The corners of his mouth were still slightly turned up, as if he expected to be saved in the next second—that sliver of a smile would stay there forever.
Gwen went stiff.
She hadn’t expected the guy to agree so casually and strike even more casually.
He had killed a man right in front of her.
Even if Gwen couldn’t stand Thompson, even if the guy was a scumbag, that didn’t mean she could stand by and watch a classmate get murdered.
“You…
you bastard!” Gwen gritted her teeth, her fists clenching with a creak.
Ryan Quinn’s expression didn’t change.
If anything, he looked even sleepier.
On the hand gripping Thompson’s neck, countless black tendrils erupted from beneath the skin.
They were fine and dense, crawling over the corpse and wrapping Thompson in a black cocoon.
Dark red flesh and tissue surged between the tendrils, making a faint, squelching sound—somewhere between the sound of chewing and wet mud being squeezed.
The consumption process took only three or four seconds.
Thompson vanished completely from the world, without so much as a drop of blood left behind.
Ryan Quinn grumbled to himself: *My first time and I do it right in front of Spider-Woman.
Dammit.
I should have checked my horoscope before leaving.
My luck is trash.* Gwen’s voice was tight, the words barely forced from her throat.
“What…
what was that thing?” She had never seen anything like it—distorted, writhing.
“Turn around!
You piece of crap!” Gwen’s voice suddenly spiked.
Ryan Quinn didn’t refuse.
Turning around was fine.
The night was very dark, with only a dim yellow glow from a distant streetlight reaching into the alley.
His hood was pulled low, most of his face hidden in shadow, revealing only the line of his jaw.
Gwen couldn’t make out his features, but a strange feeling suddenly welled up inside her.
This person…
seemed familiar.
“Who are you?” Gwen swallowed, a hint of undetectable unease hidden beneath the anger in her voice.
The white spider mask hid her expression, but her body was coiled tight.
Ryan Quinn said nothing.
The Blacklight virus in his body was rapidly breaking down Thompson’s memories and flesh.
Those chaotic images and fragmented emotions played through his mind like a boring slideshow.
Students he’d bullied, fears he’d never told anyone, a life of utter mediocrity.
There was nothing of value, but at least the risk of the virus spreading had been eliminated.
Mission accomplished.
Silence fell over the alley.
Beneath the hood, Ryan Quinn’s eyes glowed with a faint, dark red hue in the darkness.
Gwen took a deep breath, pushing down her nausea.
The scene looked like something out of a zombie movie—slimy, greasy, and smelling of rot.
Gwen shook the stray thoughts from her head and locked her eyes back on the hooded man.
“Alright, buddy.” Her voice turned cold.
“Put your hands up and get ready to enjoy your stay in prison.” Before she finished speaking, Gwen snapped her right arm up, aiming her web-shooter at Ryan Quinn’s face.
*Thwip!* A strand of white webbing shot out.
A sneak attack, perhaps unsporting, but effective.
Ryan Quinn had seen it coming.
The Blacklight-enhanced dynamic vision deconstructed the trajectory of the webbing into frame-by-frame slow motion.
An ordinary person wouldn’t have time to dodge, but unfortunately for her, Ryan Quinn was no ordinary person.
His body moved before his mind did.
He jerked to the left.
The webbing whistled past his ear and slapped against the wall behind him, leaving a white, sticky clump the size of a fist.
As soon as his toes touched the ground, his legs exerted force.
*Boom!* A dull thud erupted from the ground as the concrete buckled.
Ryan Quinn launched himself five or six meters into the air, the night wind whipping against his hood.
Gwen’s pupils shrank.
That jumping power…
what was going on?
But there was no time for surprise.
Her Spider-Sense screamed in her head—*Danger, from above!* Ryan Quinn was already bearing down on her, right fist clenched, his entire weight combined with the downward momentum of the fall.
Gwen instinctively crossed her arms in a block.
*Bang!* The muffled impact of fist against arm made her ears ring.
Gwen felt a wave of numbness wash over her limbs as the massive force exploded at the point of contact, sending her reeling backward.
Gwen didn’t lose her cool.
Borrowing the momentum of the impact, she performed a backflip and landed steadily on both feet.
Her left hand braced against the ground while her right web-shooter rose simultaneously.
*Thwip!*