Queens, New York
In a cramped, messy room, books were everywhere—piled on the personal desk, stacked on the floor. Amid all that, a 15-year-old boy sat on his bed hunched over, clutching his head as the throbbing pain dissipates.
"Whose room is this?" he wondered, frowning as he glanced around the room.
Getting up from bed, he walked over to the window and pushed the curtain covering the window, wanting to know where he is currently. But the sight outside freak him out—towering skyscrapers, yellow taxi, and the bustling street. He was in the United States of America, a thousand miles away from his home country.
"What?!" He exclaimed, as disbelief washed over him. "This can't be happening"
Turning his head back, looking straight at the door and scanning the whole room around the room. After piecing the clue together, he arrived at a single conclusion.
'Am I trapped here? Did they kidnap me?' The clues didn't add up in his mind. His conclusions were wrong. "What kind of kidnapper lets their victim have a window to see the outside world?" he muttered to himself. "This is something else... I wonder."
Then a thought crossed his mind. 'Maybe, there's a in this room?'
He scanned the room for clues and noticed that most of the books belonged to someone named Peter.
"This is weird." But things got even stranger when he glimpsed his own reflection in a mirror in the closet. It wasn't his face staring back at him. "Did they... surgically alter my face?"
Before his fear of the situation could grow, he stumbled upon a wallet. The theory of being kidnapped and experimented on shattered apart when he saw the ID inside—the name and face on it were unmistakable: Peter Parker.
'I've transmigrated?' he couldn't believe it. The fiction genre he thought of has become his reality.
The name was the most shocking part—he had become The Spider-Man, Peter Parker. Eagerly, he lifted his shirt to check his body. His breath caught when he saw the toned abs staring back at him.
"Oh, so I already have Spider-Man powers. That's useful to know," Peter muttered.
'But doesn't this mean I have second chances in life?' he was smiling, excited to redo his whole life 'I can finally become a person,'
Peter was so excited that he rushed to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for school, but he forgot his towel. Heading back to his room, he spotted it hanging on a hook. In a burst of excitement, he tried to do what Spider-Man would—attempting to shoot webs from his wrists. But since he wasn't actually that version of Spider-Man, his attempt ended in failure.
"Man," he muttered, disappointed, but also felt a strange sense of relief. 'If I had natural webbing, I'd probably end up with the same problem in the comics...'
He walked over, grabbed his towel, and headed straight to the bathroom to freshen up, aware of the smelly scent clinging to him. Once inside, he closed the door behind him, removed his clothes, stepped into the shower, and turned on the water. As the water cascaded over his body, a thought surfaced in his mind.
'Should I plan my future? What should I even do? I'm just 15. There's barely any work I can do to make decent money.' Peter's thoughts drifted to his experiences. 'I don't want to go back to IT or science. Even with my new intelligence upgrade, I can't bear the thought of dealing with experiments, endless data, and numbers again.'
He let out a heavy sigh. "All the money seems in tech and science... but I'm so tired of it."
"What should I do?" he muttered, resting his head against the wall. His mind raced for alternatives, but no other solution came to him. 'I fucking hate this. I'm going to do it all over again, aren't I?'
As he turn off the water and step out from the shower, wiping his body with the towel, an idea struck his mind.
'I could just fight illegally until I make enough money,' Peter thought with a sly smile. Returning to his room, he grabbed some clothes to wear.
He grabbed his schoolbag, remembering it was Friday, and he had classes to attend. Heading downstairs, he found a couple laughing and chatting, their voices filling the room. The couples are Uncle Ben and Aunt May, Peter's only family left.
"Ah, Peter, up early today?" Aunt May greeted him with warmth and the sweetest smile ever. She got up from her seat, she looked down at Peter's feet and asked, "Where is your shoe?"
Peter realized he had forgotten about it and said, "I forgot, wait I get my shoes back" he ran back upstairs to his room.
Uncle Ben smiling, amused seeing Peter forget about his shoes. "Peter, I wait for you in the car," he called out, looking toward the stairs.
"Okay!" Peter shouted back as he put on his shoes. 'I really need to get my own place,' he thought.
Uncle Ben gave Aunt May a quick kiss on the cheeks before leaving the house and waits for Peter in the car.
As Peter came downstairs, Aunt May walked over to him and handed him a sandwich wrapped in a plastic bag.
"Thank you," Peter said, give a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.
Aunt May smiles, amused by how excited Peter is for some reason.
On the right side of the car, Peter climbed into the passenger seat. Closing the door as he said "Let's go"
Uncle Ben smiled as he was reversing the car and drove to Midtown Highschool.
"Did something good happen?" Uncle Ben asked.
Peter turned to Uncle Ben, pausing mid-bite into his sandwich. "Maybe," he said, his tone playful.
As they arrived at Midtown High School, Uncle Ben pulled over to the side and parked. He reached over and gave Peter a light tap on the thigh. "Good luck, Peter," he said warmly.
Peter smiled, then extended his hand for a handshake. Uncle Ben hesitated, a bit puzzled by the gesture, but accepted it. As their hands met, Peter bowed his head slightly, adding an air of sincerity to the moment.
"Take care," Peter said, before stepping out of the car.
Uncle Ben watched him go, shaking his head with a faint smile. "What's going on with this kid?" he muttered to himself before driving away.
Standing in front of the school, Peter took a deep breath. As he stepped into the bustling hallway, he barely had time to take in his surroundings before encountering someone.
A tall, muscular blonde kid his age stood before him—Flash Thompson, Peter's bully. Flash smirked, towering over him with an air of superiority, his crew flanking him.
"Well, well," Flash said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Look who showed up."
He sneered, crossing his arms. "Still getting dropped off by your uncle, Peter? Quite sad. What happened—your parents are too busy for you?"
Flash and his crew erupted in laughter, their taunts echoing down the hallway.
"You should've stayed at home, Mama's boy. Oh wait—oops, your parents are dead," one of Flash's crew sneered, earning a round of laughter from the group.
"Good one," another chimed in, grinning smugly.
'Goddamn, they really don't hold back,' Peter thought, surprised by how far Flash and his crew went. Still, he didn't let it bother him too much. Instead, a small smile tugged at his lips.'No wonder,'
"Are you done with your stand-up comedy routine? If so, I'd like to head to class now," Peter said, his tone calm but sharp.
Flash and his crew were momentarily caught off guard by that comeback, their smirks faltering.
Crossing his arms with a sneer, Flash replied. "Well, well, little Peter's finally grown a backbone. Decided to fight back, huh?" He paused, tapping his palm as if remembering something. "Oh, wait... didn't you try that once before? Yeah, I remember now—we beat you black and blue."
His crew erupted in laughter, the memory fueling their confidence as they loomed over Peter.
"Wow," Peter said, clapping his hands slowly. "Resorting to fists because you can't win with words? What else should I expect from a gorilla?"
That was the last straw. Without a second thought, he launched a punch straight at Peter's face.