24 The First Bullet Wound

Jason thought to himself: Complain about a sore wound? Peter would surely insist on examining it personally. Suggest going to the hospital? Peter would definitely drive him there. Propose going out for a meal? There would be no reason not to treat his brother to dinner.

Peter, meanwhile, thought: Suggest going for a drive? There would be no reason not to take Jason along. Propose going to the club? Jason might be interested in that too. Suggest going for a meal? They had already eaten lunch together; it wouldn't make sense not to have dinner together as well.

In the end, it was Jason who broke the deadlock. He picked up his phone with its black screen and answered a call with practiced realism: "Hello? Oh, you want me to pick you up? Alright, yes, I'll be there right away."

Peter felt a wave of relief. Seeing Jason pocket his phone, he didn't wait for him to say anything before offering enthusiastically, "Are you heading out to pick someone up? Be careful on the road. I think I'll read for a while longer."

Jason nodded, seized the opportunity, and left decisively. Watching his retreating figure, which showed no hesitation, Peter felt a touch of disappointment.

He soon pulled himself together, intending to change into his suit and pay a visit to Oscorp.

In the CEO's office on the top floor of the Oscorp building, Harry sat in his desk chair with his feet propped up on the desk, staring at a test tube full of blood in his hand with a complex expression.

It was given to him by Spider-Man.

Honestly, he hadn't expected to meet Spider-Man so easily, nor had he expected him to simply hand over his blood like that. It seemed Peter and Spider-Man shared a rather profound connection.

Harry still remembered that after Spider-Man handed over the blood, Peter’s voice had come from outside the door, warning him that someone was approaching and urging Spider-Man to leave quickly.

Harry was naturally filled with gratitude toward Peter. He had offered to gift Peter an apartment in the best part of downtown Gotham, but Peter had politely declined, merely reminding him to do exactly as Spider-Man had instructed.

—Study this blood carefully, conduct the experiments step-by-step, and do not rashly inject it into your own veins.

But Harry didn't know if he would ever have the chance to study it properly.

The conditions at his small laboratory at Gotham University were limited, and while Oscorp possessed the most advanced analytical instruments in Gotham, Harry dared not use them rashly, knowing how restricted his access was at every turn.

Oscorp was not entirely in his own hands; on the contrary, he knew there were those in the shadows watching him like predators. Harry had to be doubly careful. Rather than letting his physical condition or the results of the analysis of Spider-Man's blood fall into their hands, he would rather inject the blood directly into his own veins and let fate decide the outcome.

Fate had treated him harshly for twenty years; surely it had to side with him at least once?

Peter was crouched on the exterior glass wall, peering in and tracking Harry’s every move.

He watched as Harry loaded his blood into a syringe and his heart leaped into his throat—but as Harry hovered the needle over his arm, just as Peter was about to break through the glass, Harry abandoned the injection.

Peter let out a breath of relief.

Harry was the last person remaining from his past. He would never sit by and watch Harry head toward his own destruction.

Harry removed the test tube from the syringe, carefully tucked it into his pocket to keep it close, and then stood up to leave the office.

It was just then that Peter heard a commotion not far away.

Gotham, truly never a day of peace. Peter sighed to himself, leaped off the building, and let out a joyous shout as he fell through the air, savoring the weightlessness before firing a web. His mood soared along with his altitude as he zipped toward the source of the disturbance.

As he swung through the air, he occasionally caught a glimpse of a yellow Beetle car, and Peter couldn't help but smile knowingly.

Suddenly, a blinding blue light caught Peter’s eyes, followed by the scent of something scorched. This didn't seem like a minor skirmish between thugs without superpowers. Peter’s expression turned serious; he landed, instructed Bumblebee to wait for him, and sped toward the source of the light.

Just as he swung around a corner, a bus came barreling straight toward him!

In the corner of the bus was a purple shadow—a female vigilante with a vibrant uniform, shielding a child in her arms—being pushed directly toward Peter by the impact of the bus. There were at least twenty passengers inside the vehicle, and Peter could hear their screams clearly.

Spider-Man hooked Spoiler and the child in her arms with one hand, while catching the entire bus with the other, his feet carving deep furrows into the ground.

The bus slammed heavily onto the road, blocking the doors. Peter released Spoiler, cleared the shattered window glass, and pulled the passengers out of the bus.

Spoiler directed the girl in her arms toward safety and then came to assist Peter. Without waiting for him to ask, she took the initiative: "Some electric guy has gone crazy! He destroyed my grappling hook, and this bus was knocked aside by him. You need to be careful!"

In a tight spot, without any prior intelligence, the Bat-family vigilantes were at a disadvantage against superpowered freaks. They already knew enough about Spider-Man to know he possessed extraordinary strength and agility, so Stephanie made a split-second decision to leave the enemy to him while she went to evacuate the crowd and call for reinforcements on the comms channel.

An electric guy? That set off alarm bells in Peter’s head; he had dealt with someone like this before!

A man with translucent, dark blue skin stood by a streetlamp. The light of the lamp flickered in sync with the blue arcs of electricity on his hands. By that light, Peter recognized his face: "Max!"

The man hadn't expected anyone to know his name and looked up, startled.

Max had been bitten to death by electric eels in an accident, only to return from the dead with the ability to manipulate electricity.

As far as Peter knew, he wasn't inherently bad; if anything, he was a bit timid, just longing for a little attention.

"I know you're scared, Max." Peter approached him step by step, cautiously.

Max backed away warily. Only then did Peter notice he was clutching two severed electrical wires. It had just rained in Gotham, and the ground was soaked. If Max wanted to, he could kill countless people the moment he released his electricity.

"Please, just stay calm," Peter said, stopping at a distance so as not to put too much pressure on him. "Don't hurt anyone. There is still hope for you to return to normal. I can help you, okay?"

"Why?" Max’s voice was dull. "Why did this happen to me?"

He had been just an ordinary employee at Oscorp, assigned to patch some cables shortly before he was supposed to clock out.

The damn power station staff hadn't cut the electricity to that floor, and Max had been knocked into the electric eel tank by a massive surge of current. The numbness of that extreme agony still flowed through Max’s veins to this day.

Or rather, was it even blood flowing through his veins anymore? What had his body actually become?

Having received Spoiler’s request for support, the first to arrive was Red Hood. He was only a moment behind the police, who had already surrounded the area where Max and Spider-Man stood, led by the familiar face of Commissioner Gordon, a good friend of the Bats.

"Planning on putting a few bullets into that guy?" Red Hood approached Gordon silently and spoke softly.

Gordon was so startled he nearly fed him a few bullets first.

"Spider-Man is currently negotiating with him," Gordon said testily. "I don't think now is a good time to open fire."

Red Hood goaded, "I meant put a magazine into the red and blue guy."

Gordon looked at him, bewildered. "Aren't you guys on the same side?"

"Who said I'm on his side?" Red Hood retorted sharply.

Having finished a round of crowd evacuation, Spoiler, who couldn't chase away the thrill-seekers, was hiding nearby, tending to her own scorched wounds. "Do you think he can handle this?"

Red Hood curled his lip, offering no comment.

"They'll send me to Arkham, or have Superman throw me into space!" Max roared. A nearby lamp exploded with light. A few police officers nervously raised their barrels, but Gordon quickly held up a hand to stop them.

"I believe they won't treat you like that," Peter reassured him. "As long as you don't hurt anyone."

Max’s voice was tinged with regret: "I... I can't control my power. I flipped a bus..."

"You really are an honest, good person," Peter said, feeling it from the bottom of his heart. "I caught that bus; no one was hurt, so don't worry."

"You caught it?" Max looked up abruptly, his eyes glowing with a bright blue light.

Peter felt his tension ease slightly; he felt that half the task of calming Max down was complete. "Yes, just watch your step as you walk, and stay away from those electrical sources—"

Just then, a sharp whistle pierced the air. A bullet, from who knows where, shot toward Max!

His mutated body gave Max lightning-fast reflexes. He saw the trajectory of the incoming bullet and his expression turned instantly furious! Peter didn't think twice; he leaped into the air, throwing himself between the bullet and Max!

The bullet struck Spider-Man in the shoulder, and he was knocked down into the roadside bushes by the impact. Max was stunned, and the police tightened their perimeter with guns drawn.

Max turned, his entire body dissolving into electricity, and escaped along the power lines of Gotham, disappearing without a trace.

It all happened in an instant. Jason hesitated for a second on whether to track the Electro, but ultimately chose to check on Spider-Man. Stephanie rushed to where Max had vanished to record the magnetic field. Among the crowd, Harry, who had witnessed Spider-Man taking the bullet for Max, pulled up his hood. Having made a firm decision, he tucked the test tube containing the blood away securely and drove off toward Gotham University.

Peter felt a bit dizzy from the pain. This was his first time being shot; enduring pain wasn't his strong suit.

Spider-Man’s agility and reflexes, combined with his Spider-Sense, usually allowed him to dance through a hail of bullets. But this bullet had torn through his flesh and lodged deep in his shoulder blade. The pain from being thrown against a wall by villains was negligible compared to this. The last time it had hurt this much was when he was hit by a high-speed train.

Peter instinctively clutched his wound, bearing the excruciating pain, and ran away from the police to avoid getting into trouble.

With the bullet still lodged in his shoulder, he walked for a while before sitting down against a wall. He vaguely remembered he could go find Bumblebee, but he needed to rest for a moment, to let his healing factor work... Wait, once the skin and flesh healed, wouldn't that bullet stay in his body forever?

The thought brought Peter back to his senses, and only then did he notice a figure standing before him.

His Spider-Sense hadn't gone off, so Peter didn't feel a need to be on guard. He recognized Red Hood by his conspicuous red helmet.

What, here to gloat?

A chill ran across his shoulder and chest, and the white lenses of his mask widened abruptly.

—Red Hood was kneeling before him, tearing open the Spider-Man suit.