After teasing the little spider until her face was flushed as usual, Peter's expression turned serious.
"Seriously, Gwen, you don't need to hold back when fighting me. Go all out. Don't forget, my physical strength was enough to directly suppress the Lizard Professor!"
Hearing him mention the Lizard, Gwen suddenly recalled the startling battle where Peter had beaten the transformed Connors into total unconsciousness in under a minute.
At that thought, her competitive spirit flared. Since gaining her powers, she hadn't truly experienced what it felt like to fight an enemy with 100% of her strength.
Confident that she wouldn't break him, Gwen took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, her aura had shifted completely.
With a blur, she lunged at Peter like a bolt of lightning. Her plan was to use a burst of raw power to tackle him, forcing him out of that small chalk circle by sheer momentum.
But to her surprise, Peter didn't show a hint of panic. He didn't even dodge. Instead, his hand moved like a viper, delivering a sudden, sharp punch to her waist.
The impact made Gwen hiss in pain. Not only did she fail to knock him down, but she couldn't even maintain her own forward drive. If Peter hadn't reached out to steady her, she would have crashed into the concrete, likely waking her sleeping grandmother downstairs.
Seeing Gwen in pain, Peter felt a pang of guilt—it would be a lie to say he didn't care. But he knew better than anyone how vital combat endurance was. In a world of supervillains, a moment of weakness could cost Gwen her life.
Sweat more now, bleed less later, he thought, hardening his heart. He didn't immediately offer comfort or heal her with the Horse Talisman. Instead, he looked down at her coldly.
"Is that all you've got?"
The taunt stung Gwen's pride. "Again!" she snapped, her fingers digging deep enough into the roof to leave gouges in the cement.
Over the next hour, Gwen lunged again and again, only to be sent flying back even faster each time.
She couldn't win. She really couldn't win. This wasn't just a matter of being underestimated; it was a total "dimensional strike."
Peter's combat skills, "fed" by his experiences with Captain America and Madame Gao, had reached a world-class level. In terms of Marvel power rankings, his fighting technique was easily a Level 7.
His strength, speed, insight, and reflexes all surpassed hers. And Gwen? She was a high school student who had learned a few self-defense moves from her dad.
In the eyes of a martial master, her "anti-wolf" techniques were little more than flailing. Add to that the fact that her Spider-Sense didn't trigger against someone she felt safe with, and the result was a ruthless slaughter—even with Peter using only one hand and staying in a circle.
She went from disbelief to frustration, then to absolute exhaustion. Her cheeks were crimson, her breath came in ragged gasps, and her knees felt like jelly.
She had tried every trick in the book, but she hadn't even touched his torso, let alone forced him out of the circle.
Despite her "rookie" performance, Peter was impressed by two things. First, her seriousness; she never tried to act cute or pout to get him to go easy.
Second, her brain. Gwen was learning. Every time she got hit, she analyzed the failure, trying to ensure he couldn't strike the same spot twice.
Her progress was remarkable. After an hour, she actually managed to put a sliver of pressure on Peter's one-handed defense.
But she was at the end of her rope. Gwen looked a mess—her hair was matted with sweat, her clothes were torn, and bruises were beginning to form through the gaps in her fabric. In the 4°C New York November night, she had trained until she was soaking wet.
"Huff... huff..."
Gwen leaned on her knees. Her stamina was zero. Yet, she gritted her teeth, slowly straightening her shaky body into a wobbling combat stance.
"A-again!" Her voice trembled, but her eyes remained fierce.
Peter finally softened. He let out a soft sigh and stepped out of the circle, breaking the rules of the exercise.
"That's enough for tonight. You have school tomorrow."
"I can still—"
Before she could finish, Peter flickered in front of her. Using a classic "Kabedon" move against the rooftop chimney to pin her in place, he hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning in to claim a kiss.
Gwen, who had previously claimed things were "moving too fast," only gave a symbolic shove before melting into the embrace.
What was the saying? No matter how tough the mouth, the lips are always soft...
After a long moment, Peter pulled back slightly, whispering against her ear, "Be good. Let's call it a night."
The "attack" on her sensitive ear caused her earlobe to turn a translucent pink. Feeling Peter's breath so close, the stubborn words stuck in her throat.
"You did great today," Peter coaxed. "I mean it. I've sparred with Cap at S.H.I.E.L.D. Trust me—if your Spider-Sense is fully active, you could probably keep up with him if he didn't have his shield."
Hearing the comparison, Gwen couldn't help but laugh. The tension broke. She leaned her entire weight against him, finally feeling the tidal wave of exhaustion and soreness.
Noticing her wince, Peter quietly activated the Horse Talisman. A faint white light washed over her, and the pain vanished instantly. Gwen let out a soft, contented hum, like a cat being scratched in the perfect spot.
"The injuries are gone, but the mental fatigue is still there..." Peter started, looking troubled, before his tone shifted playfully. "I happen to be an expert in an 'Ancient Dragon Massage' technique. Since we're so close, why don't we—"
Before he could finish the "bad boy" pitch, Gwen huffed and pushed him away. "In your dreams! I'm going to take a shower!"
She bolted toward her window, pausing only to wink back at him before slipping inside. "Goodnight, Mr. Arbiter~."
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