Peter had an idea.
If he couldn't slow down the Lizard with webs, then maybe he could use them to speed himself up.
Time for a new trick.
Web-Swing Boost!
The next time they hit a straight stretch of tunnel, Peter seized the chance. Both hands snapped forward—thwip! thwip!—two lines of webbing anchoring to opposite walls.
The Lizard, always alert, caught the motion out of the corner of his eye. With a hiss, he darted sideways to dodge.
But Peter wasn't aiming for him.
He yanked hard, feet kicking off the ground—
💥 WHOOSH!
His speed doubled in an instant.
The Lizard's eyes went wide. He had just committed to the dodge and couldn't recover in time.
CRASH!
Peter slammed into his back like a missile. The two went tumbling out of the tunnel, rolling in a violent heap.
Peter didn't let go. He shifted his weight deliberately, driving his knee into the Lizard's spine.
The Lizard's healing factor was formidable, but a spine was a spine. The nervous system couldn't just shrug off basic biology.
This hit was brutal. And Peter meant it to be.
Because this wasn't a choice between one man and another. It was one man versus the eight million people of New York.
And Peter had made his choice.
"Mercy belongs to the innocent," he growled under his breath, pinning the Lizard down. "Showing mercy to a monster? That's cruelty to everyone else."
He pressed his weight lower, left hand forcing the reptilian head into the ground, right fist hammering down.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Each blow dented scales, rattled bone, left the Lizard reeling and dazed. His muffled roars grew weaker, each one less threatening than the last.
The strength gap was too much. Even in his prime, the Lizard was only a few tons of raw muscle. Peter, even without reaching his peak yet, carried ten tons of force in his fists. The outcome was inevitable.
The Lizard's head sagged, groggy, concussed.
Thwip! Webbing bound his snout tight.
Peter's eyes flicked to the twitching tail. With one savage tug, he ripped it clean off.
If this were a video game, the system message would have popped up right then:
Achievement unlocked – Tailbreaker Supreme!
Peter smirked grimly. Maybe if he forced Connors' body to keep regenerating tails, he could burn out the serum's effect, drain the monstrous side out of him.
But minutes passed. Nothing grew back.
So it wasn't automatic. The tail regrew only if Connors willed it. And right now, half-unconscious, he clearly wasn't going to.
"Guess I'm not farming boss loot today," Peter muttered.
He spun the Lizard around, layering web after web until the villain was cocooned like cargo. Then, step by step, he dragged him back through the labyrinth of pipes and tunnels, following the scars of their fight to retrace his path.
At last, he found his hidden camera. He stuffed away his bag and phone, then set up the shot. A few snaps, a short video clip—evidence, and maybe something to sell to the Daily Bugle. Spider-Man's part-time hustle.
Then he settled in to wait.
The Lizard stirred, groaning.
"Spider-Man…" came the muffled voice, low and distorted.
Peter tilted his head. "Doctor."
"You don't understand," Connors rasped. "I was saving humanity. You've doomed us all."
Peter sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I'm the bad guy. Heard it before. Gonna need new material, Doc."
The Lizard hissed weakly: "Survival of the fittest. Natural selection!"
His voice cracked as his strength faded. Words dwindled into whispers, then silence.
And slowly, his body began to shrink. Cells sloughed away like sand, the massive reptilian form collapsing back into frail humanity.
The webbing loosened.
At last, Kurt Connors lay before him. Human again.
"Doctor Connors?" Peter asked cautiously.
Connors blinked, groggy but conscious. "Spider-Man…" He pushed himself upright, eyes burning with fanaticism. "Why? Why would you stop me? I could have saved them all."
Peter stared, then let out a hollow laugh. "Great. Gene juice scrambled your brain too. You're still preaching the same nonsense."
Another quick thwip! and Connors was neatly trussed up again, this time with no chance of escape.
Peter dragged him topside. On the way, he borrowed a phone from a convenience store and called the cops, even grabbed a shirt from the clerk so Connors wouldn't have to be paraded through the streets half-naked.
When the dispatcher realized the caller was Spider-Man—and that he'd single-handedly taken down the Lizard—they nearly choked.
Minutes later, Captain George Stacy himself arrived with a squad of officers.
Peter handed Connors over, bound and subdued.
The once-great scientist still bore mottled patches of scales across his skin, a grotesque reminder of what he'd become.
Captain Stacy took one hard look at the prisoner, then at Spider-Man. "We'll take it from here."
Peter gave a curt nod. "Good. Keep him under wraps. He's dangerous."
Stacy offered to bring Spider-Man to the precinct for questioning, but when he looked back—
Spider-Man was already gone.
Swinging into the night.
—End of chapter—
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