The car door opened with a bang, and two Police officers quickly stepped out.
A young officer immediately rushed toward the robber wailing on the ground. Upon seeing the mangled, severed wrist, his face turned pale, and he immediately called for an ambulance via his radio.
The other experienced, veteran officer walked straight toward Ben Parker.
"Sir, are you alright? What happened here?"
The veteran officer's gaze shifted from Ben Parker to Misaka Mikoto standing beside him. A young Asian girl wearing a strange school uniform, looking completely out of place in this bloody scene.
"He tried to rob my car," Ben Parker said, pointing at the robber on the ground, still shaken.
"And then—she saved me." He looked at Mikoto, his eyes full of gratitude.
The veteran officer's gaze lingered on Mikoto for a moment, filled with suspicion.
"Her?"
"I did it."
Mikoto crossed her arms, looking impatient. Her stomach was so hungry it felt like it was sticking to her back; she just wanted to get this over with and find something to eat.
"You?"
The veteran officer clearly didn't believe it, pointing at the robber in the distance who had been incapacitated in one hit.
"What did you use to do that? Girl, this isn't the time for jokes."
Mikoto pulled the game coin from her pocket, tossed it on her fingertips, and said nonchalantly, "Just this."
"With a coin?"
The veteran officer scoffed, as if he had just heard the joke of the year.
"Alright, young lady, I get it. Did you see someone pass by here? Like a guy in iron armor? Or someone carrying a shield?"
Clearly, after experiencing the Battle of New York, the New York Police were well-prepared for the existence of "superheroes."
Compared to believing that a petite girl could cause such terrifying damage, they preferred to believe that some passing superhero had casually taken care of the robber and left without leaving a name.
A vein on Mikoto's forehead twitched.
She really wanted to demonstrate it for them on the spot, but reason told her that showing off extraordinary abilities in front of the Police was definitely not a wise move.
She curled her lip and simply stopped talking. Since they didn't believe her anyway, it saved her the trouble of explaining.
Just as the Police were about to continue their questioning, an anxious, youthful voice came from the street corner.
"Uncle Ben!"
A teenager in casual clothes ran over, panting. When he saw the flashing Police lights and Ben Parker's car, his face was filled with panic.
When he rushed over and saw that Ben Parker was safe and sound, he finally let out a long sigh of relief.
"Peter! Why are you here?" Ben Parker hurried over to his nephew upon seeing him.
"I—I saw the Police car, I thought you—" Peter Parker stammered, still shaken.
But when his gaze swept over the robber being loaded onto a stretcher by the paramedics, he was struck like lightning and froze in place.
He recognized that face, twisted in agony!
It was the same robber who had stolen money from the boss at the underground wrestling arena just dozens of minutes ago! It was the man he had let walk away out of a sense of revenge!
A cold chill shot up Peter's spine to the top of his head, and his mind went blank.
If—if someone hadn't stopped him, would that gun have been aimed at Uncle Ben? If Uncle Ben had been hurt because of his own selfish thought—
He didn't dare to think any further, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
"Peter, are you alright? Why are you so pale?"
Ben Parker noticed his nephew's abnormality and asked with concern. He pulled Peter over, pointed to Mikoto who was still sulking on the side, and explained everything that had just happened.
"Thanks to this young girl named Misaka Mikoto, otherwise—I might not have been able to see you again." Uncle Ben's voice carried lingering fear, but even more gratitude toward Mikoto.
"She really is a brave, good kid."
Every word of praise from Uncle Ben hit Peter's heart like a heavy hammer.
Peter's gaze turned blankly toward Misaka Mikoto.
A girl who didn't look very old, petite, wearing a school uniform he didn't recognize, with a hint of impatience and—exhaustion?
Was it her who saved Uncle Ben?
And what about himself? He possessed power far beyond ordinary people, yet what was he doing?
Fighting in underground matches for a mere few thousand dollars, and letting a dangerous criminal go just to spite a mean boss. He had personally pushed his uncle to the edge of death.
A massive wave of shame and regret instantly engulfed Peter Parker. He felt his cheeks burning, as if he had been slapped hard in the face.
He possessed great power but had failed to take on the responsibility that came with it. And here was this stranger, who hadn't said a word, yet had taught him the most profound lesson through her actions.
"I—"
Peter opened his mouth, but his throat felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, and he couldn't say a word. He didn't know what to say—should he thank her? Or apologize?
"Grrrumble—"
A sound, loud enough to be embarrassing, broke the heavy atmosphere.
Mikoto covered her stomach, her cheeks turning slightly red. Damn it, why did it have to growl now of all times?
This "protest" finally brought Uncle Ben and Peter back to their senses. Ben Parker looked at Mikoto's embarrassed expression and finally remembered that she was just a child.
A kind and apologetic smile appeared on his face: "Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry, child. You saved my life, and I didn't even realize you hadn't eaten. Come on, come home with us. My wife, May, makes the best chicken wraps in Queens!"
The veteran officer looked at the family, then at Mikoto, who wore an "I don't know anything" expression, shook his head, and walked away to handle the follow-up matters.
Since the suspect was caught and the victim was safe, as for that mysterious "superhero," he would leave that headache to the special departments.
Mikoto originally wanted to refuse; she never liked bothering others.
But her hunger had been completely triggered by the words "chicken wraps." She swallowed her saliva, looked at the sincere Uncle Ben, and then glanced at the teenager next to him who was still drowning in self-condemnation.
"Then—then I'll take you up on that."
Survival first, pride second. Misaka Mikoto told herself in her heart.
She followed the shaken Uncle Ben and the troubled Peter back to their cozy little house.
When Uncle Ben told Aunt May everything that had happened at the street corner, the kind hostess immediately exploded.
She first hugged Uncle Ben tightly, and after confirming he was safe and sound, she shifted all her attention to Mikoto.
"Oh, my goodness, you sweet child, thank you so much!" Aunt May held Mikoto's hands, her eyes turning red. Immediately after, she began a series of questions:
"Are you from Japan? Why are you in New York all by yourself? Where are your mom and dad?"
Mikoto was a bit overwhelmed by this display of affection and could only answer honestly:
"I came to the United States in a daze and can't find my way home. As for my mom and dad—they are not in this World anymore."
She meant it literally; her parents were living well in another World.
However, this sentence fell on the ears of the Parker family with a completely different meaning.
"Not in this World" = "passed away".
An underage girl from Japan, orphaned, wandering the streets of New York alone.
In an instant, a tragic script interwoven with blood, tears, and hardship automatically generated in the minds of Ben Parker and Aunt May.
They even filled in more harrowing details themselves: this poor child had likely been trafficked to the United States by a Japanese criminal organization and forced into some shady business.
Then, relying on courage and abilities from who knows where, she had coincidentally escaped, and while starving and freezing, coincidentally saved Ben Parker.
This logical chain was so "perfect" that the sympathy in their eyes as they looked at Mikoto was almost overflowing.
"Oh, my poor child—" Aunt May couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She pulled Mikoto into a tight embrace and gently patted her back, "You must have suffered so much—"
Being held by a stranger emitting a warm aura, Mikoto froze completely. A question mark slowly appeared on her forehead.
What is going on? Are Americans always this emotional? She just told the truth, why is she crying?
She could feel that Uncle Ben's expression on the side had also become incredibly heavy, and the teenager named Peter was looking at her with a complex gaze mixed with sympathy, guilt, and admiration, as if she were some saint who had endured great tribulations.
The family's sad expressions left Mikoto completely confused.