I was lazily poking at my salad with a fork, sitting in the school cafeteria. Famous Midtown School of Science and Technology, the school where Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, went in practically every canonical story. Along with his valiant group of students: the brainy Gwen Stacy, the hot girl-next-door Mary Jane Watson, and the insufferable kleptomaniac Felicia Hardy.
All these undoubtedly outstanding individuals studied here too. There they were, scattered at nearby tables. Some sat with the so-called "nerds," others had joined the coalition of hot beauties for whom studying was far from a priority, and someone, like that monkey from the joke, was frozen at a crossroads between the beautiful and the smart. Talking about Gwen Stacy, of course. School social strata can be so amusing in their simplicity and directness.
A few years had passed since I was somehow, unknownly, thrown into the body of an unremarkable representative of the Marvel world. First came denial, then a phase of acceptance and excitement, because it couldn't be that I ended up in this world and was completely ordinary. I looked for where my golden ticket was hidden, checked out all the shady spots, but found absolutely nothing. No outstanding mental abilities, no super-strong body — I had absolutely jack squat.
At that moment, I was still blaming an unawakened X-gene and even thought about going to get irradiated at a nuclear power plant or swimming in New York sewer waste, but thankfully I had enough sense to calm down and search online for information about mutants. It turned out, there weren't any here at all, or they were hiding very well. Yeah, people with superpowers popped up here and there, but no one labeled them as mutants. Xavier hadn't made a name for himself with his work on biology and genetic mutation, outlining the idea of an X-gene. Accordingly, there was no information about a school for the gifted on the web either.
Time passed, the situation in the world heated up every year, and even an oblivious person could tell that the shit was gradually about to hit the fan. The United States government couldn't handle the looming threat; they hadn't managed to catch or recruit a single super yet, because most often such individuals either hid well or went crazy from their newfound abilities. Such proud and unstable personalities are hard to control, seeing themselves as practically rulers of the world. The state needed loyal, level-headed supers, ready to be obedient little dogs on Uncle Sam's leash.
If many ordinary people didn't feel safe, then what about me — a person vaguely familiar with many classic Marvel storylines, and therefore able to imagine what kind of pit the whole world was about to fall into? If ordinary folks could still delude themselves, I was practically crying over what was coming.
And no, it's not like I gave up and was ready to surrender. Quite the opposite, I started actively playing sports, trying my best to develop strength, speed, and endurance. As they used to say back in my homeland: "born to run, won't get beaten." The locals, of course, gave me strange looks at first, but that's not surprising. Back then, I was literally killing myself over and over with the thought that maybe, by passing out from exhaustion, I'd return to my original world, or, by pushing myself to my limits, I'd awaken some unusual abilities…
Needless to say, such self-flagellation didn't lead to any fantastic results?
Undoubtedly, I became physically stronger, good enough to try out for the football team right now. But that didn't bring me any closer to what I wanted. What good is a good, but merely ordinary, athlete in this dangerous world? It's not even Hawkeye's level; at least he can shoot a bow accurately. So my sense of uselessness and helplessness only grew.
"…evi, Levi," a pleasant girl's voice cut through, as if through a fog, making me snap out of my heavy thoughts. "What's wrong with you? Lately, you've been zoning out and staring into space a lot."
"Gwen, I was just wondering why a fly can walk on the ceiling without falling," I answer my friend, who has connections in the police, thoughtfully.
"Joking again? I'm seriously worried about you," Gwen Stacy made a hurt face and pointedly pouted. Maybe instead of going to the ballet, she should have gone into drama? She's awfully good at it.
"Oh, sorry," I said those very magical words that any girl would be delighted to hear.
"You know, my parents raised me to be a very proper girl, and I've always been grateful to them for that, but sometimes…" she paused, creating an invisible tension, "sometimes I really want to hit you over the head."
"Don't worry, I'd turn you in to your dad immediately, and trust me, he'd be on my side," I grinned, watching Gwen's lips part in outrage.
"How did I ever get involved with such a slacker?" the girl asked rhetorically, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes.
"Couldn't resist my charisma, obviously!" I smugly proclaimed this undeniable truth.
"Is this charisma in the room with us right now?" the straight-A student asked, placing her hand on my forehead. "You're so young, and already delirious."
"Then… you took pity on a poor, unfortunate kitten, brightening his life with the joy of your presence?" I offered another, more likely, option for her consideration.
"Now that's closer to the truth," Gwendolyne played at being smug.
"Gwen, the snooty airheads are further down the table," I glanced at a group of dolled-up girls with brightly painted lips and lash extensions, throwing glances at the football players and giggling stupidly, thinking it was cute feminine laughter.
"Levi, and the thick-headed jocks are over there," Stacy countered.
"Lovers' tiffs are just fun and games!" Liz Allan, who had unexpectedly appeared nearby, chimed in. I've been quite popular with the girls lately.
"Oh, and how long have you been standing there?" I asked, surprised.
"Ha, you two were so absorbed in your own little world. I'm not surprised I went unnoticed," the girl said, fussing with her hair in a mannered way, clearly hinting that not noticing someone like her was very difficult, and you'd have to be completely blind to miss such a captivating beauty.
"Don't be silly," Gwen protested with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. "We were just talking… as friends," she emphasized the last word.
"O-oh, friends, huh," Liz said slyly, drawing out the word. "Then you wouldn't mind if Stone keeps me company at a party?"
"What party?" Gwen asked, stunned, her eyes wide with surprise.
"To celebrate my uncle's cousin getting his diploma," Allan answered simply, and it sounded so mundane, clearly giving the impression that the reason for the celebration didn't matter to her, just as long as there was one.
"Huh?" I was dumbfounded by the stated reason.
"Oh, who cares! The main thing is we can have fun at the party, the rest is just details," Liz stated emphatically, demonstrating her frivolity.
"So, am I invited too?" Gwen asked, sparks practically flying from her eyes, showing her displeasure.
"Will you come?" the blonde crossed her arms under her chest, throwing a mocking glance at the other blonde.
"No."
"Your answer was predictable, sweetie. That's why I didn't ask," Allan said. "When would our well-bred, moral crusader, straight-A student ever stoop to the unbridled fun of us mere mortals? Levi, you're not as boring and proper as her, are you? Will you keep me company?" Where does this woman get all this persistence? I get the feeling like they're trying to get me. Even the phrasing itself implies something between a regular guest and the honored favorite of the hostess. Although nothing explicit was said. But I don't remember Liz and I being that close, or her showing any signs of liking me.
And what should I answer so that Gwen, sitting nearby, doesn't misinterpret my intentions? This Liz doesn't really interest me. The girl is undoubtedly attractive, but she's a party girl… very free-spirited. And she's supposedly in some undefined relationship with Flash, the football player on our school team.
They're either in a fight or going through the crisis of the honeymoon phase. Not really keen on getting into that mess. Nevertheless, I'm so tired and fed up. I was never a fan of youth get-togethers, but what do I have to lose? Maybe next week I'll kick the bucket because of some super-villain's actions, without ever experiencing the pleasures of this second life. Maybe it's time to show this world who Levi Stone is and what he's worth.
"I'll think about it," I nod to Liz, at which she purses her charming thin lips.
"Don't be late, then," she finally replies, spinning sharply on the spot, making her flared skirt fly up, revealing crimson panties tightly hugging her firm butt.
"Minx, but what an appetizing butt! The lace panties only further accentuate the lower ninety of the young party girl" — an impudent thought flashes through my mind, but it doesn't get a chance to develop, as a foreign sound distracts me.
[Well, hello there. The Panty Snatching System greets you. My main task is to assist the master in becoming the world's greatest thief of ladies' underwear!]
Huh? What panties, what thieves?! I'm a serious young man, it's improper to…
[Reminder: Only women's panties count. The prettier, stronger, and more capable the owner of the underwear, the higher the system reward, accordingly. The highest priority targets are girls with unusual abilities, talents, and power. Stealing their panties grants special rewards. While simply attractive female individuals yield no more than a comprehensive improvement of the master's stats.]
And it's improper for a gentleman to judge hastily and superficially without first understanding the issue. Thieving is also a profession. Take Robin Hood, for instance, a positive character no matter how you look at it, and how am I any worse?
"I think you should accept the offer," Gwen suddenly says, piercing me with a cold stare.
"Um, what's gotten into you?" I'm bewildered by such a sudden mood swing. Liz stung her, but what does that have to do with me?
"Well, you were staring so intently at her butt. You're clearly interested in getting to know Miss Allan better," she says in a sarcastic, offended tone. "Why waste time on a boring nerd like me? Liz might get the wrong idea!"
"I'm in trouble!" I exclaim despairingly in my head, watching Gwen smoothly transform into the form of a kamikaze attack hamster. "Forgive me, my friend, but may I be thrice damned if I don't avenge your ruined mood! And this has absolutely nothing to do with the newly opened prospects…"
Levi showed up to the party. Photograph from classified CIA archives.