“Grizzly is ranked 173rd on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s wanted list.
He is not a high-level threat,” Nick Fury explained, reading the supervillain’s file.
“Alright, it looks like I have to ride this cool motorcycle tonight no matter what,” Peter said.
“But the problem is, how exactly am I going to get this thing onto the Quinjet?”
“The Quinjet?
We do not need the Quinjet.
Let us take the direct route.” A mischievous smirk spread across Fury’s face.
Suddenly, a faint electric buzz went off in Peter’s head.
It was his spider-sense, but it was not a warning for a deadly attack.
It was just a low-level alert.
“Wait a minute,” Peter said, raising a hand.
Before he could finish, the metal floor beneath his feet suddenly opened.
The intense pressure change created a massive vacuum, instantly sucking Peter and the motorcycle right out of the ship.
Dr.
Connors poked his head out from behind Fury, shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Spider-Man, read the instructions!
They are on the bike’s projection screen!”
Plummeting through the night sky at ten thousand feet, Peter fought to keep the Spider-Motorcycle steady.
Dr.
Connors’s parting words reminded him that this was just a slightly dangerous equipment test.
He looked down at the screen glowing on the handlebars.
Connecting the instructions to his own knowledge, Peter quickly figured out how to fly the bike.
The Spider-Motorcycle was not just built for the ground.
It could fire strong webs to build its own riding tracks in the air.
It was the perfect custom vehicle for Spider-Man.
If he timed it right, he could use the web tracks to slow down and land smoothly.
Or, if he really wanted to push the limits, he could ride the fall all the way down for a devastating crash landing.
Meanwhile, down on the street in front of the New York City Bank, Grizzly was on a rampage.
His massive steel claws tore through police cars like they were toys, sending stolen cash flying everywhere.
The police officers had run out of ammo.
They hid behind their wrecked cars, their faces covered in sweat and blood.
Some held their empty guns and prayed, while others screamed into their radios for backup.
A young officer looked up in terror as a giant steel claw came crashing down on him.
But then, he heard a sound.
It was a sharp whistle tearing through the sky at incredible speed.
A dark shadow was falling from the night sky so fast it was just a blur.
But he could clearly see it was a motorcycle ridden by a man in a red and blue suit.
Spider-Man was here!
A second later, the front wheel of the motorcycle slammed right into Grizzly’s armored back.
Boom!
The impact sounded like a meteor hitting the earth.
A terrifying shockwave blew dust and concrete across the entire street.
When the dust finally settled, the unstoppable Grizzly was knocked out cold on the broken street.
Only the red and blue hero was left standing.
The massive force of the drop had acted like a hundred-ton weight, knocking the villain out instantly.
Peter jumped off the bike, ripped open the bent armor, and dragged Grizzly out.
With a few quick shots from his new web-shooters, he wrapped the villain up in a giant ball of webs.
Leaving only Grizzly’s head sticking out, Peter hung the heavy package high above the bank’s front doors.
Then, Peter hopped back onto the Spider-Motorcycle.
The bike fired a thick line of webbing up into the air, creating a track.
Peter hit the gas.
With a loud roar, the bike zoomed up the web track, speeding between the giant skyscrapers.
It was an amazing sight.
People on the street immediately pulled out their phones to record it.
Peter already knew that tomorrow morning, the loudmouth news boss J.
Jonah Jameson would use the video to say bad things about Spider-Man.
Peter rode the bike all the way to the top of One World Trade Center, the tallest building in New York.
The freezing wind high up in the sky quickly cooled the bike’s hot engine.
“Wow, this bike is actually pretty useful,” Peter said to himself.
“Looks like tonight, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is going on patrol as a biker!”
At 1:15 a.m., a police car with flashing lights pulled up outside a run-down apartment building on 55th Street in Manhattan.
This was the worst neighborhood in the city, an area known to everyone as Hell’s Kitchen.
Two police officers stepped out of the car.
The man in charge, a tough middle-aged captain, spoke into his shoulder radio.
“This is Captain George Stacy.
I have arrived at the crime scene.
Over,” he said.
Captain Stacy was Gwen Stacy’s father.
Stacy and his partner walked into the dark apartment building.
They went straight to a unit where the door was left slightly open.
Stacy pulled out his Glock pistol, and the two men split up to search the rooms.
When Captain Stacy walked into one of the bedrooms, moonlight shining through the window showed a pile of something in the corner.
It smelled horrible, like rotting meat.
Stacy knew right then that he was not going to get any sleep tonight.
This was definitely a murder, and it was a very weird one.
“Damn it,” Stacy muttered.
“This is the third serial murder in Hell’s Kitchen, and the killer has not left a single clue behind.
There is not even anything left from the victims.”
Even though he had been a cop for over twenty years, Stacy had never seen anything this crazy.
“If it were not for this thing on the floor, I would just think these people went missing.”
Stacy stared at the pile in the corner, and a cold chill ran down his back.
It was a completely intact human skin.
There was no meat, no bones, and no blood inside.
Just loose skin and dry hair.
Suddenly, Stacy noticed a bunch of tiny spiders crawling around the corner.
He followed them with his eyes and looked up.
A massive spider web covered almost the entire ceiling.
In a split second, goosebumps covered his arms.
Stacy frowned and cursed under his breath.
“Damn it.
Good thing I do not have trypophobia, or I would be having a heart attack right now.”
Seeing the spiders made Stacy think of Spider-Man.
He did not like the new city hero at all.
Stacy read the Daily Bugle every day, and his favorite part was J.
Jonah Jameson’s news.
Jameson hated Spider-Man more than anyone, and listening to him all the time made Stacy hate the hero too.
But there was another big reason Stacy did not like him, even if he did not want to admit it.
Spider-Man was making the New York police look completely useless.
Spider-Man was stopping over eighty-five percent of all the supervillain crimes in the city.
If this kept happening, the Mayor might use it as an excuse to cut the police department’s pay.
It was no surprise that the cops had a love-hate relationship with Spider-Man.
Just as Stacy was staring at the giant web on the ceiling, his partner yelled from the other room.
“Captain Stacy!
Come and take a look!”