Huang Liang was just about to lecture Peter on his lack of social initiative when his words died in his throat. He stared, eyes wide, at Peter's hand.
An ordinary stainless steel cafeteria spoon was stuck firmly to Peter's palm. Peter wasn't gripping it; his fingers were splayed wide in a gesture of confusion, yet the utensil clung to his skin as if it were part of his own anatomy.
"Uh, Peter? Is that a new magic trick?" Huang Liang asked, his voice dropping to a cautious whisper.
"What? No! I... I don't know why it's doing that!" Peter's face went pale. He gave his hand a frantic, violent shake, trying to dislodge the stubborn piece of cutlery.
He didn't shake the spoon off. Instead, a sharp thwip echoed through the tense air.
A strand of thick, pearlescent white webbing shot from the underside of Peter's wrist. It zipped across the aisle like a high-velocity cable, striking the back of Flash Thompson's head just as the school bully was leaning back to laugh at someone else's expense. The webbing was incredibly adhesive, instantly welding itself to Flash's golden-blonde hair.
Peter's jaw dropped. Instinctively, he yanked his hand back in a panic.
"Thud!"
Flash Thompson didn't stand a chance. The sheer strength behind Peter's reflexive tug was immense. Flash was ripped backward off his bench, his feet flying into the air as he slammed ungracefully into the floor. The cafeteria went silent for a heartbeat before a few muffled snickers broke the tension.
"Pfft!" Huang Liang didn't waste a second. He saw the chaos brewing and knew they had to disappear before the faculty—or worse, a camera—caught on. With a subtle flick of his fingers, he channeled a sliver of sharp internal energy, slicing through the sticky web strand like a hot knife through butter.
"Move, now!" Huang Liang hissed, grabbing Peter by the shoulder and dragging him toward the side exit before the crowd could process who had just floored the star quarterback.
They burst through the double doors and into the relatively empty hallway, Peter stumbling along, looking at his wrist as if it were a ticking time bomb.
"What is happening to me? Did I... did I just produce silk? Am I turning into a literal spider, Liang? Is my skin going to fall off? Am I going to grow six more eyes?" Peter's voice was climbing an octave with every question. He looked dazed, his brain struggling to reconcile "nerdy high schooler" with "human silk-producer."
"Relax, you're not turning into a bug," Huang Liang said, though he looked equally fascinated. He examined Peter's wrist, seeing no obvious biological changes. "This is a mutation. That spider bite must have been the catalyst. It didn't just give you reflexes; it rewrote your DNA. You've got abilities now, Peter. Real ones."
"Abilities? I just glued a spoon to my hand and attacked a guy with my wrist-spit! That's not an ability, that's a biological disaster!" Peter's hands were shaking. "We have to go to the martial arts academy. Master Huang... he'll know what to do, right? He's not going to, like, put me in a cage for observation?"
"My Master isn't a government scientist, Peter. He's the guy who teaches people how to handle this stuff," Huang Liang reassured him, though he was already checking their surroundings. "But we need to move fast before—"
"STOP RIGHT THERE, PARKER!"
The roar echoed down the hallway. Flash Thompson emerged from the cafeteria, looking like he'd been dragged through a construction site. A massive clump of white webbing was still matted into his hair, looking like a giant, sticky bird's nest. His face was a mask of pure, humiliated fury.
Flash had spent years calling Peter "Insignificant Parker." He'd spent years treating the hallway like his personal kingdom. To be jerked off his seat and embarrassed in front of the entire school—by Peter —was a slight he couldn't let stand.
"Is there a problem, Flash?" Huang Liang turned around, standing slightly in front of Peter. He looked at the mess on Flash's head and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "You look like you had a very messy encounter with some chewing gum."
"Huang Liang…" Flash stopped, his bravado wavering for a split second. He remembered the alleyway a few months back. He'd tried to corner Huang Liang with three of his friends, and the quiet Asian student had dismantled them in under thirty seconds. It hadn't even been a fight; it had been a lesson in physics and pain.
Back then, Huang Liang was just a talented Wing Chun student. Now, after training under Huang Wen and learning the deeper secrets of internal energy, he was on a completely different level. To Flash, however, he was just "that guy who knows how to kick ass."
"This is between me and Parker, Liang. Stay out of it," Flash growled, his fists clenched. "He tripped me. He pulled some... some sick prank. If I don't settle this, my reputation is trashed!"
"Peter and I have an appointment. We're leaving," Huang Liang said, his voice flat and unimpressed. He didn't have time for high school drama. He had fought world-class assassins and literal monsters recently; a teenager with a letterman jacket didn't even register as a threat. "If you're still feeling brave tomorrow, we can talk then. But right now? Walk away."
"Do you think you can always protect him?" Flash hissed, looking past Liang at the trembling Peter. "I don't care how many moves you know. Parker's going to be alone eventually. And when he is, I'm going to break his glasses with his own face!"
"Hehe…" Huang Liang actually chuckled this time. It was a dark, knowing sound. He looked at Peter, who was currently staring at his fingers as if trying to figure out how to unstick them. "Flash, trust me when I say this: You should be very, very glad I'm taking him away right now. If Peter actually lost his temper, you wouldn't be worried about your reputation. You'd be worried about your ability to eat solid food."
"Whatever! Get lost!" Flash snapped, not wanting to push his luck with Liang further. He watched them walk away, seething with a silent promise of vengeance.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Peter's nervous energy seemed to explode. It was as if the "shyness" filter in his brain had been completely dissolved by the spider venom.
"Huang Liang, seriously, is your Master going to dissect me?" Peter started, his words coming out like a Gatling gun. "I mean, I've seen movies. The guy with the powers always ends up on a cold table with a bunch of guys in hazmat suits. And what about my Aunt May? If I start crawling on walls, she's going to have a heart attack! Do you think I can control the webbing? Does it come from my blood? Is it high in protein? I feel like I could eat ten more sandwiches right now. Is that part of it? The metabolism? Is your Master really that amazing? I heard he beat up a whole gang by himself. Is he a mutant too? Or is he like a wizard?"
"Peter, breathe," Huang Liang said, rubbing his temples. "And stop talking for ten seconds. Just ten."
"I can't! It's like the words are just... leaking out!" Peter scratched his head, his eyes darting everywhere. "And what about Mary Jane? Huang Liang, do you think she'll think this is cool? Or is she going to think I'm a freak? I mean, she liked my eyes today. She said they looked different. If I tell her I can shoot webs, will she want to take a picture of that too? Oh man, imagine if I could take photos from the ceiling! The angles would be incredible! Do you think I should confess to her? Is it too soon? We had a moment today, right? You saw the moment! It was a total moment!"
"This…" Huang Liang's mouth twitched. He hadn't expected Peter Parker's thought process to be so broad that even he found it difficult to keep up. For a moment, Huang Liang actually missed the gloomy, quiet Peter Parker. "That's up to you. Whenever you feel it's right, just confess..."