"It's Spider-Man!"
"He's dead."
"Spider-Man jumped off a building..."
"No, he's just wearing pajamas. He's not the real Spider-Man."
"He must be a crazy Spider-Man fan."
Soon, with the crowd gathering, Carter inspected the body.
"There's residue of web-like material on his wrist. He was also bitten by a mutant spider," she said to Charlie.
Charlie shook his head. "He thought he'd become Spider-Man and couldn't wait to imitate him."
Carter sighed. "He shouldn't have been so reckless."
"Those bitten by mutant spiders change quickly. How long did it take for you to get your abilities?" she asked, looking at Charlie.
Charlie turned to leave, with Carter hurrying to catch up.
In the distance, the sound of sirens grew closer.
"It took me one night," Charlie replied.
Carter thought for a moment, then asked, "How long did it take you to get used to those powers? I mean, how long did it take you to practice jumping from buildings?"
"One night."
"That fast?" Carter looked surprised.
"Did you fail?"
"Of course I did."
"Peter mentioned that you've participated in two revival tournaments. So, did you die from a fall before?"
Charlie rolled his eyes. "Only an idiot would start practicing from a high place. I practiced from three-story buildings at most—no chance of dying."
Carter's curiosity deepened.
"How did you come up with the idea of using webs for transportation? Weren't you afraid the webs couldn't support your weight?
"And if your arm strength wasn't enough, wouldn't swinging be difficult, risking muscle tears?
"With all those billboards around, did you ever crash into one? If your web runs out mid-swing, would you fall to your death?"
Carter's questions came one after another, causing Charlie to rub his temples.
"I'll explain later. For now, you should go back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and issue a statement, telling those who've been bitten not to test their abilities recklessly."
Hearing this, Carter remembered her urgent task.
"Right, I need to get back. See you later, Charlie."
"Goodbye."
Carter took a few steps but then turned back, extending her hand. "My motorcycle keys."
"You already gave them to me."
Charlie waved cheerfully from the curb, even hailing a taxi for Carter.
"Considerate, right?" he grinned.
Carter shook her head with exasperation. "You really know how to push your luck."
"Don't forget to give me the helmet."
"Bastard."
Watching Carter get into the taxi, Charlie tossed the motorcycle keys in his hand.
A gift from an elder—pretty nice.
He put on the helmet, mounted the motorcycle, and roared down the street.
Meanwhile, back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.
In her office, Carter summoned Agent Hill.
"Tell Nick Fury to cancel the surveillance on Charlie Parker."
"Are you sure?" Agent Hill asked, hesitating.
Carter's expression was stern. "I should have the authority to do this."
"Yes, but Charlie is very likely—"
"I just met him. I realized the real Spider-Man isn't him, but he's connected. It's likely that the Spider-Man we've seen is a decoy he sent our way."
Agent Hill pondered. "Throwing out an obvious target to distract us and shift our focus.
"So, whenever Spider-Man disappears, Charlie disappears too. It's all part of his plan."
"That's right."
"But why cancel the surveillance on Charlie Parker?"
"It's pointless now. With more mutant spider-men appearing, we have a bigger problem on our hands. We need Spider-Man's help, and stopping the surveillance is a sign of respect."
"I see. Understood."
Agent Hill nodded thoughtfully, then left the office to inform Nick Fury.
...
In the hospital room, Nick Fury frowned. "Got it. Follow her instructions."
"Pair of twos, Director, it's your turn," Harry urged.
"Agent Hill, I'm busy right now. Leave everything else to Agent Carter. That's all."
"Bomb!"
"I can't beat that."
"Haha, I win! Now pay up..."
Beep beep~
The call ended, and Agent Hill rubbed her temples in exasperation.
"Those guys are having a blast—they finally get a break."
She returned to her desk to carry out Carter's instructions.
On her desk sat a small Spider-Man poster.
"Even if Charlie Parker isn't Spider-Man, he definitely knows him. Too bad I don't have time off; I'd love to ask him a few questions."
Looking at the Spider-Man poster, Agent Hill slumped over her desk with a sigh.
"Could the black-suited Spider-Man who defeated Steve also be him? I really want his autograph..."
"Agent Hill, there's been a report—another Spider-Man has died."
"Oh, got it."
She quickly hid the poster under some files and hurried to the scene.
Time passed, and night fell.
The darkness belonged to Spider-Man.
"Agent Hill, the fifth Spider-Man has appeared."
"On my way."
By eleven that night, Agent Hill never wanted to hear the words "Spider-Man" again.
Meanwhile, in Banner's lab, he had gathered three "Spider-Man" bodies.
He was on the verge of a breakdown.
"What is happening to this world? Someone, tell me!!"
Banner's anguished voice echoed from the lab.
At the same time, in Stark Tower.
In the private quarters at the top floor, Tony watched the endless news reports about Spider-Man, untouched coffee in hand.
"Tony, what's wrong?" Pepper approached from behind, gently massaging his shoulders.
Tony snapped out of his thoughts. "Spider-Man's dead. Three of them."
"They must be fans—way too obsessed," Pepper remarked.
Tony shook his head. "Something feels off."
"What do you mean?"
"I think the real Spider-Man's in trouble."
He set down his coffee and headed to his lab.
"You're going back to tinkering with those cold metal toys?" Pepper said with mild frustration.
Without looking back, Tony replied, "They're not toys. They're my purpose.
"I have to understand these things quickly. Maybe I can return a favor to Spider-Man—after all, he did save my life."
"But you don't even know who he is. You said he's always in that tight sleepwear."
"It's called a suit, and mine's called armor."
Soon, rhythmic clanging echoed from the lab.
Clang~ Clang~ Clang~
The story of Iron Man was about to begin.
...
In the neon-lit city under the night sky.
On the giant screen in the square, J. Jonah Jameson was passionately discussing the recent Spider-Man deaths.
He hadn't been this thrilled in a long time.
On camera, he continued his tirade against Spider-Man, showing his usual disdain. Yet, as soon as he got home, he hurriedly drew the curtains, then changed into a homemade Spider-Man suit.
Biubiubiu~
Jonah jumped onto his desk, a cigar clenched between his teeth, shooting webs from his wrists, turning his home into a chaotic mess.
"Hahaha, this is amazing! Now I'm Spider-Man too!"
Jonah celebrated wildly in his living room, completely unaware of a red-and-blue blur streaking past his window outside.