Chapter 136: R: The Batman Event (Thirteen)

In Stark Tower's lab, Schiller said to Peter, "Peter, could you help me deliver something later?"

"Sure, Doctor, no problem. Where do you need it taken?"

"First, Brooklyn Bridge, then Chinatown, Greenwich Village, Times Square, the Statue of Liberty…"

"Wait, why so many places? This sounds like a tourist route. And what exactly am I delivering? Why these specific spots?"

"Nothing serious—actually, it's just a trip. Follow this route, circle around, then come back. Or if there's anywhere else you want to see, feel free to detour."

Peter was pushed out of the lab, bewildered. "Hey, wait—the battle starts tonight. Why am I supposed to go sightseeing now?"

"Don't ask. It's tied to a plan Nick and I have. We'll explain when you return."

Though puzzled, Peter had nothing else to do. The battle at Brooklyn Bridge had largely ceased by afternoon; both sides were resting, the wounded evacuated by morning, and by the peak of daylight, not a single vampire could be seen—no enemies to fight.

In the lab, Ethan and Dr. Connors were wrapping up the experiment. There were enough hands; Peter's help wasn't needed.

Peter thought, maybe going out wouldn't hurt—maybe he'd even stumble upon vampires harming humans.

So he left, heading first to Brooklyn Bridge to check the situation.

The bridge was reduced to rubble. Peter saw George helping lift two injured officers onto a stretcher; he swung over on a web-line and lent George a hand.

George turned, unsurprised. During the first half of the battle, Peter had been present the whole time, helping significantly and saving many lives. George was familiar with the red-and-blue suit. He sized up Spider-Man and said, "Oh, it's you. Why are you here now?"

Peter noticed the officers' chests were soaked in deep crimson blood. Even after all this time, the sharp stench of blood still made him nauseous.

"I can tell you're young. How old are you? Doing something this dangerous—don't your parents care?"

"I…" Spider-Man shrugged. "I didn't tell my uncle and aunt. I just said I was visiting a friend."

"If I were your uncle and aunt, I'd break your legs." George turned away, limping slightly. Peter noticed and asked, "Are you hurt, Chief?"

"Just twisted my ankle. But if I went home like this, my wife and daughter would scream themselves hoarse." George looked up, as if through the mask directly into Spider-Man's eyes. "You're still young. The world isn't yours to save yet. Use this time to visit your uncle and aunt."

"I…" Peter looked away. "If my aunt knew what I'm doing, she'd collapse."

"But you still want to do it, don't you?"

"I do too. Even though I know my daughter is probably crying right now, I still have to do this." George glanced back at the two officers being loaded into the ambulance. "They're the same. They have families and friends worrying about them—but they still came here."

Peter turned to look at the two officers. One screamed as he was lifted onto the stretcher, his wound jostled. Peter said, "That's exactly why I'm here. Otherwise, more families will grieve."

George looked at him. "We all fight for our loved ones. We'd rather bleed ourselves than let them suffer."

Then he gazed into the distance, spotting bats hiding in the shadows beneath the bridge's ruins. "These monsters will never understand how much strength humans can summon when defending the belief that others must be protected."

George left then, heading to prepare for the night's defense. Peter took a deep breath and told himself, "I won't let these monsters keep ravaging. I won't let them hurt my family or my friends."

"Your emotions are always like a ball of white cotton—fascinating. I find almost no impurities in them," Venom said inside his mind, now clearly sensing Peter's emotional shifts.

"You're the opposite of someone I once encountered. You're like black and white."

"In him, I found not a single positive emotion. But you? Your negative emotions are nearly nonexistent. Even when they appear, they're mostly overblown sympathy, sorrow, or hesitation—hardly negative at all."

"No positive emotions? That's impossible. How could anyone exist like that?" Peter questioned.

"Want to feel it?"

The moment Venom spoke, Peter's consciousness blurred. A black hole opened in his mind, a massive pull dragging him into endless depths. Terror swallowed him whole—and in a single second, he saw a tidal wave of black.

When he snapped back, Peter was drenched in cold sweat. He asked Venom, "What was that?"

"A gift left by my previous host. Or… maybe it's compensation for psychological damage."

"Who was your previous host? How could he have such terrifying emotions?"

"Him? He was a bat."

"A bat? You mean he was a vampire? You've bonded with a vampire before?"

"No. The vampires you know can turn into bats—but they're never true bats."

"Why don't I understand? Aren't those giant bats you're talking about just… bats? What other kind of bat could there be?"

"You wouldn't want to know the answer."

Venom fell silent. No matter how Peter pressed, he wouldn't speak again.

Fine, Peter thought. Everyone around him loved riddles—Schiller, and now this symbiote.

The conversation with Chief George left Peter feeling low. He had no desire to wander further. Better to return to Stark Tower—even if there was no battle now, contributing to the research was still worthwhile.

Just as he prepared to head back, his spider-sense flared—a claw struck at his back. Peter dodged instantly, turned—and saw a vampire with glowing red eyes standing in the building's shadow.

Peter was surprised. It was midday, peak sunlight. On his way here, he'd seen most bats hiding in the rubble's shadows of Brooklyn Bridge.

Still, Peter shot a web-line to the wall and swung over. The vampire, seemingly insane, didn't dodge—it charged faster toward Peter.

The outcome was obvious. Peter punched him down, then froze him with his waist-mounted freeze gun. As he bent to check if the vampire had lost his mind, he looked up—and saw a dozen more vampires standing in the alley's shadow, all staring at him with glowing red eyes.

Peter's spine chilled. What's wrong with these bats? Are they insane? Why target him?

loubiqu.

Before he could make sense of it, dozens of claw-based spells surrounded him. Peter rolled away, rose—and saw the vampires launching suicide attacks, ignoring the sunlight above, transforming into bats and diving straight at him.

Spider-Man cursed under his breath, swung up to the rooftop, and prepared to retreat.

He had a freeze gun and brute strength—he could handle these bats. But their behavior was bizarre. Most vampires barely moved in daylight. These ones moved like puppets, controlled by someone, launching themselves one after another in suicidal charges.

To Peter's surprise, it wasn't just the dozen vampires chasing him—more high-ranking ones arrived, several of them lucid, deliberately following the building's shadows to avoid the sun.

Peter ran, puzzled. Why were these vampires fixated on him? Was he special?

Captain America was nearby too, helping police build defenses. He wore civilian clothes, no uniform, his shield painted over to hide its iconic emblem—no one recognized him as the famous Captain America.

"Don't you think your outfit's a little too conspicuous?" Venom said inside Peter's mind.

Peter looked down. His Spider-Man suit was custom-made by Stark, with some tech from himself and Dr. Connors—red and blue, woven with the latest fabric that shimmered faintly under sunlight.

"Alright," Spider-Man thought. "It is a bit flashy."

He glanced down. Most residents had evacuated. Police wore blue. Armed forces and troops wore dark uniforms. Only he, in bright red-and-blue spandex, leaped across the battlefield.

"Want to change clothes?" Venom asked.

"Change? I'd have to go back to Mr. Stark's lab and ask if he can repaint the suit…"

"No need."

The moment Venom spoke, a thin layer of black slime spread over Peter's suit. The slime seeped into the fibers, turning the entire Spider-Man suit black.

"Wait, how did you—" Peter was stunned. "Mr. Stark told me this new fabric requires special methods to weave into clothing. How can you just alter its structure?"

"The method isn't special. Just disassemble the fibers, inject biomass, then restructure them into a new chain-like pattern…"

"How do you know everything?" Peter asked, baffled. "Especially about armor and suits—you're making me feel like I'm talking to Mr. Stark himself…"