The location of the fourth bomb was announced.
At first, Peter and Jason had no impression of the place until a big guy found them on the lawn.
"Hey, you guys, remember me? I'm Carol."
Peter and the others looked up, and Peter frowned at the face. He thought carefully before he dredged up the man's features from the depths of his memory and said, "Are you Thompson's little lackey?"
"That's me." Carol nodded and said, "Thompson is living in this block now; I need to go check on him. Do you guys want to come along?"
Peter looked down at the location pointed out on the map; it was exactly where the fourth bomb was. However, it was not a very nice neighborhood; in fact, it was much more chaotic than where they lived.
"Thompson didn't go to college?" Peter asked.
Carol shook his head and said, "His father got into trouble, and the whole family was implicated. He didn't get into college, and no professional sports team was willing to take him. He's working as a mover on Mason Street; his little daughter is already three years old."
Peter and Jason both sighed in unison, but said nothing. Peter turned to Jason and said, "We need to go check it out, we need to find a way to stop this disaster."
Jason looked around; obviously, sitting back and hoping everything would go back to normal was not an option. More likely, if they continued to delay, everyone here would die.
Peter and Jason set out, but actually, because the specific locations of the next few bombs were announced in advance, the people in that district had mostly evacuated. Still, the two of them managed to find Thompson at the place Carol had mentioned.
After so many years, he was still very strong and had become even stronger than the current Jason due to long-term physical labor.
Seeing Peter and Jason approaching, Thompson was first taken aback, and then he sneered, "I didn't expect you two to still be alive."
"After all these years, your mouth is still as foul." Jason retorted unapologetically, noticing that Thompson was loading goods onto the truck and that inside the cargo hold sat two scrawny, dirty-looking individuals.
"This is my own truck; I have to make a round on the street next door to get these people out." Thompson said tersely.
The people Thompson spoke of clearly referred to the two in his truck, who appeared to be homeless based on their build and appearance.
His street was definitely home to many homeless people because the neighborhood had poor security, and the police rarely patrolled the area. Many people without homes used this place as a base.
Some of them would watch the news and flee, but some were either addicted to drugs or too old and weak; some didn't know to run, and others could not, even if they wanted to. It seemed Thompson was using his moving truck to transport these people out.
"How many trips have you done?" Peter asked.
"Five so far, but there are a few troublemakers who insist on running deep into the woods to pitch tents." Thompson said with a hint of disgust.
They did not have so much time to reminisce about their strife-filled youth; 20 years later, upon reuniting, any past grudges paled in comparison to the current urgent situation.
"I'll go with you." Jason said as he got into the passenger seat of the truck and waved at Peter, "Check out the situation ahead, Peter; call me if there's any problem."
Peter nodded and didn't get into the truck. Thompson and Jason were the stronger types, able to carry people; he, on the other hand, was rather skinny. After so many years as a researcher, it was difficult for him to help with heavy lifting anymore.
"I didn't expect you to be doing this." In the truck, Jason looked at Thompson, who was driving. The youthful exuberance from his teenage days was gone, and the years had etched too many marks on his face, indicating he hadn't had an easy life.
"Someone's got to do it. Can't just let them die in there, can we?" Thompson said with a snort through his nose. "Seeing that Peter Parker cowering just pisses me off. When trouble comes, I bet he's the first to run."
"You're wrong about that; we came all the way from two streets over. We plan to get rid of this trouble for good. What about you?"
"Just the two of you?" Thompson raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Jason skeptically.
"You saw before, that guy called Joker was tackled by a bum. That shows he's not that strong himself, just hiding out. As long as we find him, all our problems will be over."
"I really want to punch him." Thompson roared angrily. "Day after tomorrow is my daughter's birthday, and she can't even celebrate it at home!"
"Then let's finish this fast, and we can each give him a punch."
The truck soon arrived at Thompson's destination, deep in a park. They could see tents pitched halfway up a hill from the square. As Thompson had said, these lunatics insisted on setting up tents in the wilderness. Fortunately, the park was some distance from the bomb's placement, and the nearest exit from the danger zone was actually only a few hundred meters away. So, they just needed to find these people and then floor the gas pedal to get out.
Yet, some of these people were like never going online at all, completely unaware of the bomb threat, thinking that Thompson and his companions were police come to evict them with force, ready to confront them with weapons.
Thompson and Jason had worked hard to knock out the entire group; one each they carried and dragged, managing to haul all four onto the vehicle.
Because the locations for setting up the bombs had been leaked during the second explosion, the later the district in the sequence, the more time there was to escape. When the vehicle headed out, the streets were deserted.
Just as they were about to leave the area, Peter's call suddenly came through. His voice was urgent over the phone, "No, don't go that way, Jason, tell Thompson to take a detour, to drive out through that alley!"
"What's happened? Peter, why can't we take the main road?"
"It's blocked here, this place…"
He had only gotten that far when the phone was snatched away; an unfamiliar, shrill male voice came through, "Why bother with that damned bunch of hobos?! Only if they are blown up will the locations of the subsequent bombs be revealed. If no one dies, we won't know where the bombs are!!!"
"Have you lost your mind?!" Thompson roared into the phone, "You're just going to let them get blown up there?!"
"That's their own fault for running too slow, what's it to you?! You meddling, stupid pig, you're going to get even more people killed!!"
"You're the one being selfish…" Jason had just started to respond when the vehicle reached the intersection of the main road, but there was no road left — the intersection was blocked with wreckage from various cars, and a legion stood beyond the perimeter, yelling angrily in their direction.
"Don't come over here! Leave them behind!! Otherwise, we won't know where the next bombs are hidden!!!"
"Why save them in the first place? It's clearly they who are courting death!"
"Just a bunch of hobos, what's the harm in letting them get blown up? They're society's tumors anyway, a bunch of cheats and swindlers, dregs addicted to evil deeds. Isn't it just right if they die?!"
Thompson was driving a small van, not a large truck. Faced with various truck wreckage blocking his path, he couldn't just charge through. But now, only two minutes were left.
As a local, Thompson knew how to navigate the alley next to the district, but the bad news was that among the people standing outside were locals too, who recognized Thompson's vehicle turning around and realized he intended to take the alley. They immediately called a crowd to block the alley as well.
Fortunately, Thompson was a bit quicker on the drive, reaching it before the crowd did. When they arrived and found they couldn't create a barrier, they simply stood in the middle of the road, preventing the vehicle from driving straight through.
Peter rushed into the crowd, trying to push them aside to clear the way, but a burly man grabbed his neck and threw him out.
"Get out of the way! Are you insane? If no one dies here, how will we know where it's safe to hide?! Do you want your own family to be killed by a bomb hidden somewhere?!"
"They are living people in that van!!" Peter bellowed, "How can you just watch them get blown up right in front of you?!!"
He scrambled up, trying again to stop the crowd, but they were too many, and he didn't know how to fight; the burly man and two others beat him, leaving him lying on the ground holding his head, screaming in pain.
The physical pain tormented Peter, but what crushed him even more was the anguish wracking his soul. He thought back to when he had been ill yet endowed with tremendous strength, wishing he could have that power again. If he could just have another chance, he would throw that entire crowd aside.
Jason looked at the people blocking the road and felt a wave of fear and desolation, not because of their chilling indifference to the deaths of their compatriots, but because he was beginning to understand them.
According to the rules of the game set by Joker, the map of each round would be revealed only after someone was killed by a bomb. The location of the fifth bomb had been leaked, so it made no difference whether the map was published or not.
But what if everyone survived this time, with no subsequent maps revealed? There were still five more bombs with unknown locations.
His original plan was to take his wife and children to his in-laws, who lived in the suburbs, a safe distance away. But what if? If the locations of the bombs weren't disclosed, and an explosion would turn a 4-kilometer radius to ashes, what if one of those bombs was at his home?
Thinking of his wife and children, Jason found himself hesitating. He even felt the urge to grab the steering wheel and hit the brakes.
After all, those hobos had abandoned themselves; their life or death was irrelevant to society. Why should he sacrifice the safety of his own family for a group of strangers who had given up on themselves?
Jason took a painful breath, and it was evident that Thompson, too, was lost in confusion. He was a middle-aged man with his own concerns.
He had helped these people only because, back when he was just a porter shuttling goods through these streets, many of the locals, including some hobos familiar with the area, had shown him the way. So, after moving his own family to a safe place, his first thought was to get these people out as well.
There had been over an hour left at that time, and he had a vehicle with spare room, so making a round trip through the nearby districts to rescue people didn't seem like a big deal.
But now, he had to choose between this group of hobos and his beloved wife and daughter; what was he to decide?
In the moment of their indecision, the van had already approached the crowd blocking the road, who clearly had no intention of moving aside.
At the critical moment, Thompson swerved the steering wheel; the van grazed the sides of buildings lining the street as it rushed out, rolling onto its side the instant before the explosion thundered behind them.