Chapter 141: R: The Batman Event (Eighteen)

Over Brooklyn, Peter once again faced the suffering of a superhero.

Just as he had once faced Matt, he heard Stark speak his fears aloud for the first time, and felt his inner struggle for the first time.

Peter suddenly realized that those who could be called heroes always shared the same trait—the same force driving both Daredevil Matt and Iron Man Stark.

Peter had never before so fully agreed with a saying—"Nobility is the epitaph of the noble."

Heroes are always trapped by their moral code higher than ordinary men's, always choosing to walk forward even when they know the path leads only to death.

But that doesn't mean they don't fear or suffer—Peter could feel it: Stark was afraid.

But he ought to be afraid—no one in this world is immune to the fear of death.

Yet he was driven by something, like a moth flying into fire, toward a path already set.

Even after Peter had described to Stark in detail the scene of his death—the fall from the rooftop—Stark still flew toward it without hesitation, as if he had already chosen his own grave.

Just like that night at Matt's cabin, Peter felt the same rage ignite within his chest.

But this time, Peter thought, he would never again watch another tragedy unfold.

The same tragedy would not happen a second time—he was no longer the naive Peter Parker who hesitated and gave up in conflict; he had seen the path he must walk, and at any cost, he would stop it all.

Peter suddenly felt as if a sedative had been injected into his mind—the boiling rage began to calm, then solidified into a deeper power, surging steadily within him.

Suppressing the emotion, Peter said to Stark: "Let's go up together."

Steve, clearing vampires below, saw Stark and Peter fly together to the rooftop of High Tower.

The night was now very deep; the moonlight had grown brighter, casting a cold glow over the blood, giving it an eerie purple hue, while the bats' wings and claws shimmered with mysterious light.

Soon, several helicopters arrived at the rooftop of High Tower, carrying devices that emitted the mutated serum—each device resembled a large-scale ultraviolet generator, shaped like a closed bud.

Once the devices landed, Stark stepped forward and adjusted them; the machines lit up red, and the buds slowly unfurled.

Meanwhile, Peter dealt with the bats flying toward them—such a loud entrance could not go unnoticed; the vampires had sent about a dozen bats to harass them.

Stark muttered to himself: "Activation will take about five minutes; full gas dispersion will take roughly twenty. We need to hold this position for half an hour until the mutated serum takes effect."

Steve had no flight capability and was better suited for ground combat; ground forces desperately needed him. S. . . . . . agents were mostly stationed on the ground—without them, civilians couldn't handle the giant bats at all. With the battle so intense, no reinforcements could be spared; any forced movement might cause the entire frontline to collapse.

Five minutes passed quickly; the bud-like device fully unfolded. Peter felt the air grow damp, then Stark stepped back—and a violent gale swept across the battlefield, the device disintegrating as a spherical storm engulfed the entire sky.

Peter crouched at the edge of the building's railing, looking down. At first, the bats showed no change—but within two minutes, some began to shimmer with scales. By the three-minute mark, the mutations erupted fully.

Many bats grew lizard claws on their heads; their wings suddenly sprouted legs. Peter shuddered—he realized these mutations were truly unbearable to look at; in plain terms, they were disgusting.

Imagine a bat flying peacefully, then suddenly screaming as seven or eight lizard legs burst from its belly, collapsing into a writhing ball of scales and claws.

Steve rolled aside to avoid a lizard-bat carcass falling from midair. He felt nauseous and said into his comms: "Connors, this thing is way too gross—my god, I've lived this long and never seen anything so…"

Indeed, the fusion of bat and lizard was too grotesque for any carbon-based lifeform to accept. Many frontline soldiers, though not struck by falling creatures, suffered severe psychological trauma and knelt where they stood, vomiting.

But Budebushuo, this mutation attack was devastating—most infected bats lost combat capability entirely; you couldn't expect a monster with Qiba legs growing from its body and wings to fly normally.

Most mutated bats fell to the ground, either crushed into pulp or writhing in place.

Their regenerative abilities were useless—technically, they weren't injured, just burdened with extra parts. Regeneration could heal wounds, but it couldn't remove extra scales, claws, or limbs.

Though most bats were infected, some escaped. Deacon saw this and roared in fury: "Attack that rooftop device immediately!! Can't you see? That's what's causing this!!"

He was nearly frantic—most of his combat-capable forces were now infected, and he couldn't reverse the mutation in time.

Within half an hour, the battlefield had turned into a one-sided massacre. Humans met no resistance and reclaimed the Brooklyn Bridge outright. If this continued, the vampires would be wiped out completely.

Deacon cursed loudly, but the situation didn't improve. Finally, he said coldly: "It seems we must summon the Great Bat Guardian ahead of schedule."

He stared coldly at the rooftop of High Tower and said: "The Great Bat Guardian will destroy that damned device for us."

On the rooftop, Stark and Peter focused on the remaining bats when Peter's spider-sense suddenly flared—a fleeting vision flashed through his mind. Peter shouted: "Back off!! Danger!! Get back!!"

Stark retreated on instinct—but too late. A violent red light erupted from the center of the rooftop, a crimson pillar shooting straight into the sky, dimming even the stars.

Stark was blasted off the roof; Peter nearly fell too, but caught himself with a web-line, scaling back up in seconds. Stark's armor was damaged by the blast, but its propulsion still functioned—he crawled onto the edge and pulled himself up.

As the red light faded at the center of High Tower's rooftop, a figure appeared. Peter saw a man with long black hair, dressed in formal attire, eyes glowing red, standing in the center of the pillar.

This was indeed the classic vampire image—Peter's spider-sense had reached its peak.

The overwhelming sense of danger drove him nearly mad—every cell in his body screamed: flee, escape, leave now—or you will die.

The Bat Guardian's first words were: "Spider… where are you? Oh, there you are… my sacrifice…"

Peter felt as if his throat had been clenched—he slowly collapsed, sensing a tremendous pull emanating from the vampire. He clutched his neck, struggling desperately on the ground.

Even his enhanced physical strength couldn't resist this soul-level suppression. Peter had possessed his spider-mutation for too short a time—he had no way to resist a cosmic vampire who hunted Spider-Men across the multiverse.

Seeing this, Stark rushed forward, grabbed Peter, yanked off his mask, and stared into his eyes: "Wake up! Peter! Fight him!!"

But Peter only convulsed, eyes rolling back—he couldn't respond.

Stark knelt on one knee, looked up, and saw the self-proclaimed Bat Guardian extending a hand, seemingly drawing something from Peter's body.

Without hesitation, Stark raised his palm and fired a repulsor blast at the vampire—but this vampire was no Earth bat. A magical barrier appeared, effortlessly blocking all of Stark's attacks.

Seeing ranged attacks failed, Stark charged forward. At that moment, Lu Se noticed another person on the rooftop besides Spider-Man—but he paid no mind to Stark. In his hunts, many local forces had resisted him, but none had succeeded.

He waved his hand—and Iron Man was flung away. Stark saw something being pulled from Peter's body—he knew it was Peter's soul. He understood clearly: if this continued, Peter would die.

Stark said to JARVIS: "Eject me from the armor. Then initiate self-destruct. Must stop him!!"

"There are dedicated self-destruct units nearby, sir…"

"No time! Use this one!" Stark shouted.

Instantly, Stark was ejected from the flying armor, which then shot straight toward the vampire.

The moment Peter's consciousness returned, he saw Stark ejected from the armor—this image merged with the vision he'd seen of Stark's death.

Peter screamed: "NO!!!!"

Before he could finish, thick black fluid surged from his arm, wrapping around Stark and yanking him violently back—Stark was thrown to Peter's feet.

But the violent impact and sudden stop inflicted massive internal trauma—blood gushed from Stark's nose, mouth, and ears. In an instant, he lost consciousness.

Peter gasped for air, nearly driven mad—the vision of Stark's death replayed endlessly in his mind. It had been so close…

ahzww.

This overwhelming fear drowned Peter's reason—his spider-sense screamed wildly, his mind a chaotic haze.

Suddenly, the vampire saw Peter, kneeling on the ground, lift his head and stare at him. That gaze felt utterly alien—there was no fear, no despair.

He had never seen any Spider-Man with such an expression. In his hunting travels, he'd witnessed countless faces filled with terror, resentment, and defiance—but never this stillness, like a black ocean.

"You damned vampire…" Peter slowly rose from the ground, lowering his head. His hair fell before his eyes, blocking the bright moonlight, casting his eyes into shadow.

"Don't compare me to those bats," the vampire said. "I am of the Great Lu Se family. I am the god of bats!"

"Bats? No…"

Endless black tides surged through Peter's consciousness. In a daze, a strange night sky passed overhead—swarms of dark, shadowy bats.

Lu Se heard Spider-Man's voice deepen, merging with another cold, distant tone:

"You've never seen real… bats."

————————Extra Notes————————

Ten thousand characters today!!!!

This book!!!!!!

Reached 10, 00 average subscriptions!!!!!!

Details in pinned comment and gratitude post!!!!!