The driver who witnessed everything was filled with disbelief. He couldn't fathom how an ordinary person could do what he had just seen.
With cold sweat beading on his forehead, he quickly drew a pistol from his pocket.
At the same time, the voice of his boss crackled through his mobile phone, "Report to me, what happened?"
"Sir, you... you won't believe it, but she did something unbelievable," the bald man stammered, his voice trembling.
After a brief silence, the boss responded, "Cancel the mission. Get out of there!"
The bald man double-checked, "Boss, cancel the mission?"
"Yes, cancel it."
"Yes, boss."
Hanging up the phone, the bald man lowered the gun, started the car, and sped off with a screeching noise.
Gwen watched the car drive away, puzzled. She didn't chase after it, but she made sure to remember the license plate, which struck her as unusual.
At the Osborn Industrial Building, Norman Osborn stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, holding his phone with a grim expression. He had just learned of Gwen's encounter from the bald man's report.
Looking at his reflection in the glass, he noticed that his image seemed more haggard and furious than in reality. His anger flared as he reached out and touched the reflection of his face. With a sudden surge of emotion, he smashed his phone against the window with a sharp "snap."
His mind was unraveling. The other soul inhabiting his body seemed to be growing stronger, sometimes even controlling his actions. He was increasingly fearful, afraid of doing something irreversible.
Turning away from the window, his back to the sun, Norman reflected on his failed "Human Enhancement Reagent" project. It was a disaster, but he wasn't out of options yet.
Gwen Stacy, he believed, might be Spider-Man. Whether it was Spider-Man or Spider-Woman didn't matter to him. What mattered was that Gwen had been at the scene of several incidents: the tragedy at Midtown High School's football field and the out-of-control subway at the New York Museum of Natural History. It was rumored that Frank, the mutant monster, had been killed by her.
If he could obtain Gwen's blood, it might be the key to perfecting his "Enhancement Reagent."
Norman, stepping on broken glass from his shattered phone, walked into his secret room where he kept a special suit. The armor, designed using the Vulture's flying tech, was meant to help him deal with powerful adversaries.
Meanwhile, George Stacy and his partner DeWulf were investigating the scene of what appeared to be a recent battle.
"This place looks like it's been through a major fight," DeWulf remarked as they examined the wreckage of a Victorian-style building, partially destroyed as if by an earthquake.
"Yeah, witnesses said they saw Spider-Man here last night, but unfortunately, there's no nearby surveillance," DeWulf continued.
George Stacy said nothing, still brooding over the argument he had with Gwen the night before. He felt guilty for the quarrel, especially after drinking whiskey and pickle juice at the Police Bar. Maybe that was why his temper had flared.
DeWulf, noticing George's distracted mood, asked, "You alright, George? You seem off."
George sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I might have been a bit harsh on Gwen last night, and now I regret it."
DeWulf, attempting to lighten the mood, responded, "Hey, this happens. Gwen's different from other girls. Maybe you're not always on the same wavelength, but that's normal."
George, still troubled, shifted the subject. "I heard you had a little incident this morning. A car accident?"
DeWulf shrugged, "Yeah, I hit a deer, but luckily, I braked in time. Nothing serious."
George wasn't surprised. "It's that time of year. You'll always see moose around here."
Squatting down, DeWulf examined the marks on the ground and said casually, "Moose are restless during mating season. They tend to chase after people from Queens."
George blinked, puzzled. "People from Queens?"
DeWulf laughed lightly, "Yeah, I've seen it a few times. It's like they can smell them or maybe it's the new clothes they wear. It's like a funny little phenomenon. Someone should write a paper on it, though I doubt anyone will. It's just their way of chasing love."
George stared at her, not quite sure how to respond. He was starting to wonder if his partner was trying to imply something about him.
"Peter's from Queens, isn't he?" he muttered to himself, his mind racing.
At that moment, a new figure arrived. A tall, muscular man with a full beard, holding a large burger.
"Captain Custer," DeWulf greeted him, introducing him to George. "This is Frank Custer, our new addition. He should have reported to you earlier, but there was a paperwork delay."
Custer put down his burger and greeted George with a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you, sir."
George could tell from Custer's tough exterior that he was a man of discipline—likely a former soldier.
DeWulf continued, "Captain Custer served in the U.S. Marine Corps, where he was awarded the Medal of Honor and the Navy Cross for his bravery."
George nodded, impressed. "Well, it's good to have capable people around. We need all the help we can get with the pressure from Hell's Kitchen."
Custer nodded solemnly. "I'll give it my all, sir."
As they spoke, George's subordinate approached and handed him a file.
"The owner of this property is a Helen Nolan. She works at Midtown Middle School."
George paused, looking at the file. "Midtown Middle School? That's interesting."
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