However, the ability Peter most eagerly wanted to awaken—flight, or more precisely, his bio-field—had not yet activated.
"That's okay… still faster than Superman in the movies," he thought.
Peter felt satisfied. In his previous life watching Superman shows, the strongest Superman didn't awaken his flight ability until the final season.
"Now that I'm strong enough, it's time for a new mission."
He was eager to try something different.
"But which one should I choose… option one or two?"
Peter hesitated for a moment, conflicted.
"Doesn't matter. I'll take this one!"
Finally, he chose the second option. He figured that if he picked the first, the following missions would likely turn out like Superman—dutiful and heroic.
Although he had Superman's traits, he did not share the Man of Steel's compassion.He didn't like babysitting others either.
"But I can't just march out in the open—my house would be swarmed by the next day."
Since Peter planned to stir trouble, he needed to hide his identity.
As he pondered, he noticed the items he had carelessly tossed on the desk earlier.
"Yes… I choose you!"
He grabbed the Spider-Man mask from the desk, pulled the almost-forgotten Spider-Man suit from the closet, and from under the bed, retrieved two small devices he had crafted after time-traveling—one for each wrist.
"Hmm… besides being a little tight, this looks good."
Admiring himself in the mirror, Peter felt sharp and confident.
The next moment, he opened the window and without hesitation, jumped from the second floor.
"Superman and Spider-Man, here we come!"
Chapter Seven: Spider-Woman (Signed—Add to Your Favorites)
New York City at night presents two extremes, divided by a single street.
One side is opulent and indulgent, like paradise; the other, filled with struggle and misery, like hell.
While ordinary people slept, preparing for the next day's work, the rich district across the street was alive with light and noise. Nightlife had just begun.
For some seeking easy gain, this world was also paradise. After all, this was a "harmonious" country.
Crime happened almost constantly.
Tonight, it occurred in a quiet alley at the border of the working-class neighborhood and the affluent district.
A group of stylish young Black men cornered a middle-aged woman against the wall.
"Ah! Help! Stay away!"
Even in this seemingly peaceful city, she knew it was dangerous to go out alone at night.
Her family was seriously ill, and her baby, barely ten months old, was crying for milk. She needed to risk seeking a higher-paying night shift.
Her previous luck could not protect her forever.
Tonight, she was surrounded.
"Please… take my money, just let me go! My child is waiting at home!"
She hastily pulled out some coins, hoping it would satisfy them.
But she underestimated their greed; a few dozen dollars could not satisfy this many people.
The tallest man, wearing a classic Western cowboy hat, looked like the leader. Slowly, he took the coins from her hand.
Calmly, he sorted them by denomination, folded them neatly, and placed them in his back pocket.
"Haha, ma'am, you didn't think this little money could stop the brothers, did you?"
He drew a silver revolver from his waist, spinning it expertly in his hand.
The barrel now pointed directly at the woman.
"Hand over your bank cards and valuables, or my gun will reach you soon."
"Our boss is the fastest gun in this street. Better give us the money, or we'll search your corpse for it."
Seeing the leader's cowboy-like elegance, the others flattered him while threatening the woman.
"No… my husband and child need this money… please!"
She sobbed, begging for mercy.
The "cowboy" kept the gun aimed and began counting deliberately: "Three…"
Suddenly, before he could finish, a silver spider silk shot out from the shadows, striking his wrist with perfect accuracy.
"Who's there?"
The cowboy's usual poise faltered. But he felt immense force surge through his arm, lifting him off the ground. His muscular body felt weightless; the revolver slipped from his hand.
At that moment, a figure burst from the darkness and delivered a powerful kick.
The man felt as if he'd been hit by a speeding car. Teeth flew from his mouth as he crashed into the wall behind him, losing consciousness.
"Boss!"
The remaining thugs hadn't seen what happened—only that their leader flew up, then slammed into the wall, life uncertain.
Then, they saw a figure in a black-and-white hooded suit, covered with web patterns, appearing silently in front of them.
"Oh no… Spider-Woman."
A week ago, Spider-Woman's name had already spread across New York. Thugs knew she constantly interfered with their schemes.
They instantly recognized her as the fearsome justice-bringer.
"Run!"
The remaining criminals scattered, stumbling out of the alley. One young man was so terrified his legs gave way, collapsing against the wall.
"Haha… that saying's true. You don't have to run faster than the predator, just faster than your companions."
The fastest thug ran ahead, nearing the alley exit.
"Great, I'll be safe once I'm out…"
But he couldn't take the final step. Only one step remained, yet it felt like crossing an impossible chasm.
A massive force struck him, flinging him backward.
He slammed into the wall, then spider webs ensnared him in awkward positions.
His companions suffered the same fate; before escaping, all were stuck to the walls in bizarre positions—like a grotesque mural.
"Heh… done."
Spider-Woman had effortlessly subdued all the criminals.
"Wait… one more."
Her Spider Sense triggered. Instinctively, she shot another web behind her.
"Ah? How…?"
Even her usually infallible webs missed. The target had been caught by a mysterious figure.
A tall, imposing shadow appeared in the dark alley. He grabbed the thug who had just fallen, lifted him single-handedly, and picked up the revolver, ready to strike from behind.
Despite using only one hand, he lifted the several-decades-of-kilogram man with ease.
"Wuuuu…"
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