Peter sat on the top of a skyscraper, dressed in his classic red and blue tights.
He looked down.
He didn't find the scenery particularly magnificent, perhaps because he was used to it.
He pulled off his mask, revealing a tired expression.
So tired, so tired…
"Can I still keep going?" Peter asked himself.
Classes.
Part-time job.
Vigilante.
Classes—he was still a student, so of course he had to attend classes.
He wanted to get into a good university, find a good job after graduation, support Aunt Mei, and then have a wife, children, and a warm home.
Simple and unadorned.
This was contrary to the chuunibyou mindset of those who gained superpowers and thought they were the greatest.
Yes, even after gaining superpowers, Peter still hadn't changed his mind. Many people didn't understand, like Mike, who thought: there's no need to worry about being exploited by the system, couldn't he just rob the rich to help the poor?
One could only say that everyone had their own thoughts and ways of doing things.
Part-time job—although the boss treated him a bit like a brick, placing him wherever needed, he paid well, and while he constantly threatened to deduct wages, he had never actually done so. Unlike other convenience store owners who often found excuses to deduct wages, he was like a Scrooge incarnate.
The most important thing was that the boss often treated them to meals, sometimes cooking himself or having hotpot, sometimes ordering takeout, depending on his mood. At first, Peter was a little uncomfortable—U.S. people were more accustomed to splitting the bill, sometimes even lovers or spouses paid separately.
"The boss is a good person." Peter naturally gave him a good person card.
On a few occasions, a flustered Peter accidentally displayed his superpowers; he used spider webs to stick items that fell from the shelf, and the boss saw it.
"Oh no!" Peter thought.
Many people intensely disliked those with superpowers.
"As expected…" Peter sighed inwardly, this job was ruined again. Again… it felt so heartbreaking.
He watched the boss run over angrily.
He yelled at him: "You bastard, what did you do to my merchandise? Sticky spider webs are on it, customers will think someone did indescribable things to the product, clean it up!"
"Huh?!" Peter was stunned for a moment.
He quickly cleaned the spider webs.
When pinching the spider silk, Peter thought of some kind of white, turbid, viscous liquid.
He was on the verge of tears.
How would he "biubiubiu" with spider silk in the future?
Especially when spraying it on someone's face.
"Wait, the boss knows this is a spider web? So not only did I expose my superpower identity, but I also exposed my Spider-Man alias?"
Peter watched the boss sprawled on the sofa, happily watching a TV show.
"I'm overthinking it, aren't I?"
It turned out he wasn't overthinking it. As time passed and they interacted more, Peter discovered that the boss wasn't an ordinary person either. Or rather, the boss didn't even try to hide it.
Moreover, Peter found that Skye had a dragon.
A dragon!
Oh my God… although this dragon was small, cute, and looked very shy.
But it was still a dragon!
Peter really liked the work environment here; no one would treat him like a spider freak.
Finally, there was the vigilante work—he became a vigilante largely because of two phrases: "Your father often said that when a person has the ability to help others, he must do it" and "With great power comes great responsibility."
"You, what do you want to do… help, help me!!!"
Exhausted and lost in thought, Peter heard a cry for help, and his spirits instantly lifted. He swung over, holding onto his spider silk.
Three punks had cornered a young girl in an alley. Originally, they just wanted to rob her, but her beautiful face aroused other evil intentions in them.
The girl cried for help helplessly, while praying to God inwardly.
"Hey, you three, can you show some respect to a lady? Don't forget your mothers who gave birth to you are also ladies."
Peter's voice was like heavenly music.
Three spider webs pinned the three punks to the wall.
The three punks spewed profanities, and then their mouths were sealed by the spider webs.
"Are you alright, miss?" Peter asked, "I've already called the Police, and they'll be here soon. I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, don't be afraid."
"I know you, Spider-Man, thank you, thank you for saving me, if it weren't for you, I really don't know what would have happened… thank you." The young girl was still shaken.
"You're welcome. Alright, I should go, the Police are almost here, they don't really like me, you know, some people are just allergic to masked tights." Peter looked back and said, "By the way, a young and beautiful lady like yourself should avoid walking in such secluded alleys at night."
"I finished work too late today and just wanted to take a shortcut, I won't do it again, thank you. From now on, I'll be your loyal fan." The girl waved excitedly.
She had heard some self-important colleagues discuss Spider-Man; some liked him, others thought Spider-Man was just a criminal wearing a mask.
A criminal?
If someone responds to your prayers when you are desperate and afraid, who cares if he is a demon or a criminal?
"He is my hero." The girl's eyes sparkled.
Peter checked the time, "Damn it, it's too late, Aunt Mei must be home by now."
Aunt Mei worked part-time at a dry cleaner's in the evening and would check on his room when she got off work—after knocking, of course.
Peter quickly swung home using his spider silk.
"Peter, are you asleep?" Aunt Mei's voice.
"Not yet, but I'm about to go to sleep." Peter, who hadn't taken off his tights yet, quickly pulled off his mask and agilely dove under the covers.
"May I come in?"
"Of course, y-yes." Peter realized he had forgotten to close the window, so he quickly shot out a spider web and pulled it down.
The window closed just in time.
Aunt Mei pushed the door open and saw Peter's unnatural expression.
She smiled slightly.
A teenage boy, hiding alone under the covers, with an unnatural expression…
"Oh, oh, I'm sorry." Aunt Mei turned back to close the door and said from outside: "Peter, it's a rare weekend, want to go to the supermarket together tomorrow?"
Peter: "Aunt Mei, did you forget? I have a part-time job this weekend."
"Oh, alright then."
Peter scratched his head, feeling that Aunt Mei had misunderstood something.
The next day.
"Old Earl, good morning!"
It was 8:30 AM, and Old Earl was opening the door. Peter greeted him enthusiastically.
"Peter, you look good." Old Earl, as usual, was full of vigor.
Peter helped Old Earl with the preparations before opening, then started sweeping, wiping glass, and finally opening the mail.
In the mail was an email from Skye, which listed his tasks for the day.
"Clean common areas of buildings 1 to 3, wash and dry floor mats, check out tenants from 1-30 and 3-502, tidy rooms." It was no different from usual, except it was the weekend, so the workload was heavier than usual.
"Go for it!" More work meant more hours and more pay. As if seeing green U.S. dollars, Peter was invigorated.
The happiness of a worker was that simple.
Suddenly, Peter saw Mike come down from the second floor, his face grim.
The boss always looked like this when someone woke him up.
His morning temper was like natural gas, it would explode at a touch.
At this time, Peter wisely kept his distance to avoid being caught in the crossfire.