Chapter 6 - The Big Decision

"YEAH, look at that shit, ain't it beautiful." I gestured to the gorgeous name in the sky. "COME ON, you gotta admit this cool."

I looked at Peter as he looked into my soul, possibly judging my life. 

"What are you looking at like that?" I gestured to me with a question mark of light forming on my head.

"So, what's next? Another batch of criminals who have no chance."

Peter didn't bother with a comeback this time. He just shot me one of those "I-guess-I-have-no-choice" looks before leaping into action. His webs shot out, and he was zipping alongside me within seconds.

We soared through the sky, the city lights below turning into streaks of gold and silver. Moments like this made it all feel worth it—the thrill, the freedom, and the occasional moment where I got to show off a bit.

"Alright, what's the plan? Are we chasing down bad guys or just seeing who can fly higher?" Peter asked, his voice tinged with that familiar playful challenge.

I glanced over, still grinning. "Why not both?" I shot a bolt of light into the air, lighting up the night sky like a comet. "The first one to the top of the Empire State wins."

"Are you serious, bro? You cannot be kidding me." He scoffed.

"It's a genuine challenge from the depth of my heart, what are you talking bout'?"

"You know you're faster than anyone or anything in this universe." He told me with a sigh.

I flashed a cocky grin at Peter. "And? I mean, it's not my fault the universe made me this awesome. I got my bars, y'know, 'I'm OP, nothing you can do to stop me.'" I put a swag gesture, which I thought was cool.

"That is actually the cringiest thing I've ever heard," Peter told me with a deadpan look.

"Wut?" I responded.

Peter shook his head, the tiniest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Seriously, dude. OP? Like, we're not in some cheesy anime, you know."

"Oh really? I thought we were in some fanfic written by some random dude who posts once a month," I said with a chuckle.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "That is oddly specific. Care to elaborate?"

"Absolutely not."

I grinned, leaning back like I'd just cracked open the secrets of the universe. "But since you asked—there's this guy, who goes by RedBoy07. Writes stories online. Probably has, like, a dozen followers who definitely don't ask him for updates. But he's always busy, you know? Working on this grand, years-in-the-making plot, except every time someone (no one) asks for more, he just goes, 'It's coming soon, I swear!' Spoiler: It's not."

Peter gave me a look.

"And when it does come if it ever does, it's like… a thousand words of absolute nonsense, no direction, just vibes. And we're all just stuck here, waiting for him to get his act together."

Peter raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "That... sounds like you've been thinking about this for a while."

I shot him a playful look. "It's the mystery of the creative process, Parker. Sometimes, you need to go deep into the world of bad writing to truly understand the struggle."

"Nah, I don't think I will."

"... Okay..."

"Peter, I've just decided, I'm gonna take the bread," I told Peter.

He looked at me with another expression that I cannot describe. "Bread? Why bread? From who?"

"Nick The Ni-" I started.

"WWWWWWAAAAAAAAAIIIIITT!"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing as Peter's eyes went wide in shock. "Oh my god, don't you dare say it," he warned, holding up his hand in a mock defense.

I leaned in, lowering my voice dramatically. "Nick the Nightmare."

"Are you serious?" He asked me.

"You think I'm joking, that fury guy is a nightmare, that's all, what did you think?"

"You're gonna accept Fury's offer..." 

"I was thinking with ego but the money can really help, y'know."

"Well, you decided anyway, good luck I guess."

Peter sighed, rubbing the back of his head like he was already regretting every choice that led him to this conversation.

"Look, just don't come crying to me when Fury has you running missions in some freezing, middle-of-nowhere wasteland," he said, pointing a finger at me.

I scoffed. "Peter, please. I am the wasteland. The cold bends to me."

Peter stared at me. "That was the dumbest sentence I've ever heard."

"And yet, it was also the realest," I shot back.

He just shook his head. "You're actually impossible."

I shrugged, throwing an arm around his shoulder as we soared past a rooftop. "Listen, man, I promise I won't let this change me. I'll still be the same guy—just richer. And with government access to really cool stuff."

Peter groaned. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm worried about."

"Come on, bro, imagine the possibilities!" I gestured dramatically. "I could get, like… an indestructible suit, an upgraded power core, a jet—"

"A jet?" Peter repeated, deadpan.

"Okay, fine, maybe not a jet—but, like, a really fast hoverboard at least!"

"Yeah, no, this is a terrible idea," Peter said. "I give it three days before Fury loses his last nerve and tries to bench you."

I smirked. "Joke's on him, I don't sit on benches."

"That doesn't even make sense—"

"—BECAUSE I FLY."

Peter facepalmed so hard I swear I heard it echo.

"Y'know what? I'm not stopping you. Go take Fury's offer. Have fun. Just don't come to me when you're drowning in classified documents and wondering where all your free time went."

I gasped dramatically. "Peter! Are you implying I would misuse government resources and become an absolute menace to society?"

"Yes," he answered immediately.

"Wow. No faith in me at all."

"Zero."

"That hurts, man."

"You'll live."

I sighed, then clapped him on the back. "Well, I gotta go let Fury know I'm taking the bag. Catch you later, Parker."

Peter gave me one last look of pure exhaustion before swinging away into the night.

As I shot off toward my next questionable life decision, one thought crossed my mind:

This was either gonna be the best or worst idea I ever had.

...Probably both.

But I do not give a f***.

I touched down on the nearest rooftop, cracking my knuckles as I pulled up my phone. Time to make it official.

Me: Yo Fury, I'm in. When do I pick up my first paycheck?

I barely had time to blink before my screen lit up with an incoming call.

Oh damn. That was fast.

I answered, already grinning. "Director Fury! My favorite one-eyed government overlord! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Cut the crap, after all the attempts at humiliating me," Fury's voice came through, dry as ever. "You really think I didn't expect you to cave the second you remembered there was money involved?"

I put a hand over my heart, pretending to be wounded. "Wow, you wound me, sir. Can't a guy just want to serve his country?"

"You're serving my patience at its absolute limit," Fury shot back. "You start tomorrow. Briefing at 0800 hours. Be on time."

I smirked, leaning against the rooftop railing. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be there at, like... 8:15."

"Try it and see how quickly you regret it."

"Noted."

Fury hung up without another word.

I chuckled, slipping my phone back into my pocket. "Well, that was fun."

Government contracts, high-tech gear, possibly classified missions? Yeah, this was gonna be interesting.

I cracked my knuckles again, smirking to myself.

"Guess it's time to level up." I went international before going national.

I looked down into the city, and as the colours began to fade in, I managed to locate a KFC store, I smiled as I thought, 'my last KFC meal before becoming rich as f***.'

I basically teleported in front of the store, making sure to disable all cameras and also that no one was watching at that moment.

The KFC employee at the register blinked at me as I strolled in like I owned the place. And, let's be real, with the way I was about to flex my soon-to-be government-funded riches, I basically did.

"Welcome to KFC, how can I—"

"Everything," I said, slamming a wad of cash on the counter.

The guy frowned. "Uh… what?"

I gestured grandly. "I want everything. One of everything. Actually, no—make it two. One for now, one for later."

The dude looked at me like I was insane. Fair reaction.

"Sir, you want… two of everything?"

"Yes."

"Even the family-sized buckets?"

"Yes."

"The twenty-piece combos?"

"Do I look like a man who does things halfway?"

He squinted at me, then sighed. "Alright, man, your funeral."

As he turned to yell the most ridiculous order of his career into the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, already feeling the sweet taste of victory. I was about to be so full, even my super-powered metabolism would have to respect it.

Behind me, the door jingled as someone else walked in.

"You have got to be kidding me," said a voice I knew too well.

I turned, already grinning. "PETER! My bro, my pal, my absolute favorite hater!"

"How are you everywhere I go?"