The Green Goblin never expected Peter to still be conscious. After all, he'd just used his most powerful pumpkin bomb, detonating it right in Peter's face. Such a close-range explosion should have obliterated an ordinary person. Even if the man in front of him wasn't entirely human, in Green Goblin's estimation, he should've at least been incapacitated—if not killed—rendered unconscious and stripped of his combat effectiveness.
Yet the scene unfolding before him defied all logic.
The masked man—Peter—did not just survive. He stood upright, unwavering, and then grabbed Green Goblin's arm with terrifying strength.
Goblin instantly realized something was wrong. The sheer force gripping his arm made it clear: Peter hadn't just survived—he'd been empowered. Infuriated and somehow stronger than before.
Panic overtook him. He tried desperately to wrench his arm free, but it was useless. The sensation was akin to being clamped in the jaws of a monstrous abyssal beast.
And then, the pressure increased.
The strength in Peter's hand intensified until—crack!
A horrifying snap echoed through the ruins. A searing pain erupted from Goblin's arm. His eyes widened in shock as he realized Peter had just crushed the bones in his hand.
At that moment, Peter flipped backward with ease, springing from the debris, still gripping Green Goblin's broken arm.
Before Goblin could react, Peter swung him like a ragdoll. With inhuman force, he slammed him violently into the ground. The impact gouged a hole in the concrete floor.
"You like throwing bombs, huh? What are you, some kind of Superman with bombs? Go on—throw more! I dare you!" Peter roared, his fury boiling over.
He continued to swing Green Goblin left and right, smashing him into the ground repeatedly. The display mirrored that legendary moment when the Hulk pounded Loki into the floor.
After several brutal slams, Goblin collapsed like a discarded puppet, knees buckling, back arched, groaning in pain.
"D-Don't... kill me! I was wrong—I was wrong!" Green Goblin cried, sobbing pathetically. His voice trembled with fear, seemingly drenched in regret.
Had this been the original Peter Parker, he might've believed the villain's plea. He might've hesitated, believing there was a shred of sincerity in the Green Goblin's pitiful cries.
But the man in the mask wasn't that Peter. He was a transmigrator—a soul from another world inhabiting this Peter's body. And he knew exactly who Norman Osborn was: ruthless, cunning, and completely untrustworthy.
Green Goblin's entire playbook was manipulation. He tormented his enemies when he had the upper hand, and the moment he lost, he'd grovel and beg for mercy. It was never real. The moment you let your guard down, he would strike—like a venomous snake.
Peter didn't buy the act for a second.
Without hesitation, he launched a powerful kick to Goblin's chest, sending him flying.
"Don't try to act pitiful in front of me. Meeting me today was your destined punishment. Accept your fate!"
He stepped forward, ready to finish the job—to end Green Goblin once and for all.
But just then, the low thump of spinning helicopter blades cut through the air. A booming voice echoed from outside the shattered building."People inside, listen up! You are surrounded! Drop your weapons and surrender now, or you will be eliminated without mercy!"Peter stared blankly.
"...Seriously?" he muttered, face twitching at the sheer cliché of it all.
The cringe-worthy police announcement caught him off guard for just a second—but it was enough.
Green Goblin seized the moment. With a surge of desperate energy, he activated his glider and opened fire at Peter.
Startled, Peter dodged quickly.
The gunfire inside triggered the armed helicopter outside. Without hesitation, it began to fire on their location. The windows exploded as bullets rained down from above.
In that chaos, Peter had no chance to finish the fight. And the Green Goblin? He used it to flee.
With another pumpkin bomb, he blew a hole in the far wall and zipped out on his glider, vanishing into the cityscape.
Before he left, he turned his head and shouted venomously, "Just wait, kid! I'll be back for you!"
"To get beat again?" Peter sneered, unmoved.
That final jab seemed to hit a nerve—the glider wobbled slightly in midair as Goblin's rage flared.
Peter watched him disappear. Then, with no reason to stay, he dashed toward the room where Gwen Stacy had been resting.
But when he arrived, she was gone.
Confused, he glanced around. A moment later, a figure lunged from behind the door—whack! A golf club slammed against his head with enough force to dent the metal.
He staggered slightly from the blow, stunned that it even registered. The club, now bent with a clear head-shaped imprint, was wielded by none other than Gwen.
Apparently, she'd woken up after hearing the commotion and, thinking he was the enemy, attacked him.
But… where had that strength come from?
Peter, infused with the perfected Lizard Serum, should have been invulnerable to blows from an ordinary person.
Yet Gwen had managed to almost knock him out.
No. There was no way an average girl could pull that off. Which meant—she wasn't ordinary anymore.
He narrowed his eyes, the realization hitting him like lightning: Gwen had mutated.
And possibly even surpassed him.
That would explain her precision, speed, and the sheer power of her strike.
Gwen, meanwhile, stared at the dented golf club, shocked by what she'd just done. She hadn't expected that level of damage. Still, out of fear and instinct, she kept a firm grip on the club and eyed Peter cautiously.
"You... Who are you? Stay back! I'll beat you to death if you come any closer!" she warned, her voice trembling but determined.
She backed away, waving the bent club as a threat.
To Peter, the scene was unexpectedly heartwarming. Her fierce expression, standing her ground like that—he couldn't help but find it adorable. A small part of him wanted to protect her even more.
She was both clever and foolish.
Clever for grabbing a weapon to defend herself, even if it was just a golf club. Foolish for not immediately escaping when she had the chance.
Then again, not many could land a hit like that. If it hadn't been him, that strike might have been fatal to anyone else.
He smiled beneath his mask, then without a word, turned around and vaulted out the window—on the side opposite the police.
With a single bound, he vanished into the night.
Gwen stood frozen, staring at the window he'd just leaped from. Her grip on the golf club loosened, and she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Why… why did that guy's back look so familiar?" she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
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