Chapter 24: Heroes Are Also Mortals (Part 2)

Strange swallowed his saliva, looking at Schiller's gray eyes. He really didn't have the courage to say words of refusal. After all, as long as he wasn't stupid, he could see that Schiller was definitely not an ordinary person.

Strange was dragged into the car, but he still said: "I want to tell you first, I am a doctor, not God. If your friend is already dead, then no matter how you threaten me, I have no way to resurrect him."

Schiller said expressionlessly while driving: "We are both doctors. I know this better than you. I came to find you because I am sure you can save him."

Strange breathed a sigh of relief, but still frowned, his mouth hard: "You are just a psychologist. Regarding neurosurgery, you'd better not jump to conclusions so arbitrarily."

Before he finished speaking, he saw a ballpoint pen pressed against his forehead again. Schiller's hands were both driving, and the ballpoint pen was just floating quietly. Strange made a gesture of pulling a zipper on his mouth, indicating that he would absolutely not speak again.

On the other side, little Spider stood at the door of the operating room in huge guilt and self-blame. He didn't want to let even a fly in.

But coincidentally, Ma Te's ex-girlfriend Elektra also secretly touched the door of the operating room.

Elektra didn't come to kill Ma Te. On the contrary, she knew about those people's plan earlier than Peter. She had been looking for an opportunity to tell Ma Te, but Ma Te left too hurriedly. Elektra only rushed over after the accident.

Her feelings for Ma Te were very complex. They were classmates and lovers, but they broke up because of some irreconcilable contradictions. Elektra accepted Kingpin's commission to assassinate Ma Te this time, but she showed mercy everywhere and didn't really want to kill Ma Te at all. But as a result, she didn't watch him, and Ma Te was ambushed by others. How could she not be anxious?

Elektra came from a wealthy family and hadn't seen the world. She knew that Ma Te's injury was very heavy now and the situation was very critical. If she didn't borrow some mysterious side power, I'm afraid he couldn't be saved at all. She had to take action.

Elektra used her ninja stealth techniques to walk to the front of the operating room. She didn't even take the high school student-like figure in front of the door seriously. After observing him for several days, she knew Peter was just a high schooler who didn't know any fighting techniques, and she intended to walk right past him to get inside.

Coincidentally, Peter possessed spider-like abilities, the most important of which was his spider-sense. His mind was highly tense at this moment, and his spider-sense was several times more sensitive than usual. As soon as Elektra approached, Peter turned his head and stared fixedly at the air in the corner. He felt someone there, so he swung his fist and smashed it toward Elektra.

Elektra knew Peter's strength was extraordinary and didn't dare to take the blow head-on. But Peter's movements were full of flaws; he hadn't undergone professional training. When he threw the punch, his upper body leaned too far forward, his legs weren't spread apart, and he hadn't stabilized his center of gravity. Elektra's arm wrapped directly around Peter's wrist, pulling him forward, and Peter instantly lost his balance and fell forward.

With a trip from Elektra, Peter was knocked down. But perhaps the mental anxiety stimulated Peter's use of his powers; the moment he hit the ground, he sprang up and grabbed Elektra's lower back tightly with his arms.

Elektra herself was also very anxious, and both of them were quite furious. But after all, Elektra was a female assassin trained by the Hand. As soon as Peter hugged her, her other hand, holding a short blade, swung back fiercely.

The short blade, carrying a blade of Qi, slashed from Peter's shoulder all the way down to below his last rib, nearly cutting off half of his body.

In an instant, an irresistible, immense pain engulfed Peter. This almost triggered all of his potential. He exerted force, and Elektra was thrown away, falling to the other end of the corridor, unable to get up for a long time.

Peter also slumped down. He felt like he was dying of pain. That short blade not only slashed open half of his back, but the blade of Qi also cut into his lung. Now, every time he breathed, fresh blood surged up his trachea.

Peter felt such pain for the first time. The immense agony of his entire back muscle being torn almost made him pass out.

He was just a high school student. The greatest pain he had experienced in his life was just being punched a few times a few days ago, which was a world of difference compared to this kind of wound.

His entire back was almost penetrated, and his lungs were injured, making his breath smell of blood. Every inhalation was accompanied by immense pain. Peter's tears surged out physiologically, and he squeezed a painful moan from his throat.

He suddenly realized that heroes also get hurt and bleed.

And when heroes get hurt, it also hurts like hell. It doesn't get better at all, and he won't be spared just because he has some special abilities.

His self-healing ability made him feel a bit better within a few breaths. He looked into the operating room with blurred peripheral vision; through the frosted glass, he could see Daredevil lying there.

Daredevil tilted his head, his eyes open. He was still conscious, but he couldn't move.

Peter knew clearly that Daredevil had no self-healing ability, and he was about to die.

He was just a blind man who knew martial arts. Now his entire spine was broken. He must be in great pain, even more pain than him, but he couldn't make a sound.

Peter felt terrified and desperate, feeling bitter and angry for the fragile life of a hero. More importantly, immense guilt and self-reproach drowned him.

An ordinary person without superpowers had saved him by confronting the underground boxing ring, yet when he heard those criminals plotting, he felt it was none of his business and left, causing his friend, a true hero, to suffer such great pain and even be on the verge of death.

Ma Te was a true hero, and he was not.

This intense emotion made his spider-sense buzz. In an instant, Peter's spider abilities were amplified to the maximum. That intense emotion surged in his heart, and in his eyes, the whole world changed its appearance.

Elektra instantly activated her stealth technique to hide herself, but Peter's eyes were bloodshot, and he locked onto her position in an instant.

The boy opposite, who had been so clumsy just a moment ago, disappeared almost instantly. Then, a huge force slammed Elektra against the wall. She spat out a mouthful of blood and used her last bit of strength to use her stealth technique to leave. And when Schiller returned to the hospital, he saw Peter sitting blankly under a wall that was on the verge of collapsing, his eyes bloodshot.

Strange entered the operating room. By this time, the sky had turned completely dark. Schiller stood opposite Spider-Man.

"Peter. I really didn't expect that we would meet under these circumstances," Schiller said.

Peter's reaction was a bit slow now; he didn't understand what Schiller meant. Schiller squatted down, looked into Peter's eyes, and said, "I'm very sorry, I didn't accompany you for that physical exam. As you can see, I no longer work at this hospital."

Peter's sanity recovered a bit, and he said, "It's you, you're that doctor."

Apparently, he remembered the doctor who had been chatting with him online.

Schiller said, "Yes, it's me."

Peter lowered his head in silence and said, "I must have disappointed you. I'm not at all as good as I showed when chatting with you. I did a bunch of wrong things and almost got my friend killed."

Schiller said, "I think you have already understood some things."

"Yes, yes..." Peter said in a hoarse voice, "I understand the greatest truth, which is that getting hurt really hurts."

"It hurts so much, yet he still had to do it," Peter whispered. "He is a hero, and I am not. Perhaps I will never be a hero..."

Schiller's voice remained calm. Peter couldn't hear a hint of blame in his tone. He just said very peacefully, "Perhaps you have already understood that if people with abilities in this world don't save others, then no one will come to save you."

"Perhaps you feel that your current life is not good, but even this bad life is built for you by some people who are willing to pay the price."

"Even that life like a beggar's, it was only possible after Daredevil cleared the thugs off that street."

"Peter. Perhaps this shouldn't be said by me, but I'm afraid only I can do it for now," Schiller said.

"With great power comes great responsibility."

Spider-Man closed his eyes in silence.

Just at dawn, the darkest moment, Strange took off his gloves and walked out of the operating room, saying, "Congratulations, the surgery was very successful. There is an eighty percent chance that his nerves will fully recover."

After hearing this, Peter finally let out a roar, as if he wanted to vent all the emotions accumulated in his chest. He jumped directly out of the window, climbed rapidly along the building's wall to the roof, and then began to shuttle rapidly across the rooftops of New York City.

At this moment, he saw that gold-red mecha again, which seemed to be trying to lead him somewhere, constantly circling around him. Peter followed the mecha, and they jumped and ran all the way to the New York TV Tower.

The two stood at the very top of the New York TV Tower.

Peter desperately wanted to roar, but he couldn't make a sound. All his emotions were pent up in his chest; he was going crazy.

Stark's faceplate lifted, and Peter saw his face, saying with some surprise, "You're Stark! Iron Man is Stark!"

"That's not worth being surprised about, kid. Besides the owner of Stark Industries, who else could develop such a mecha?" Stark said.

"But the news said you were kidnapped, taken to Afghanistan."

"Yes, but do you want to know how I escaped?"

Peter looked at him, and Stark said, "I built an energy core and installed it here." Stark pointed to his own chest.

"There is still an Arc Reactor here now."

"In a cave in Afghanistan, I cut open my own chest and stuffed a foreign metal object into it. My own blood soaked my pants completely."

Just imagining the scene made Peter feel a dull ache in his own chest. He said, "That must have been unbearable, right?"

"Of course, it hurt," Stark said, pretending to be relaxed, but Peter could hear his tone trembling, as if he didn't want to recall that day either.

"You have to cut open your chest cavity with a bone knife that isn't sharp, and then sew wires into your flesh."

Peter felt a chill down his back.

He really didn't expect that Stark, who always appeared as a playboy in the news, this billionaire who seemed to live an incredibly affluent and carefree life, had also experienced such a painful past. He had also shed a lot of blood and experienced pain that ordinary people could hardly resist.

"Although I always like to call myself a genius, I am very clear-headed. I know that if I am hit by a bullet, I will definitely bleed a lot. If shrapnel shreds my heart, I will definitely die. If I lose a leg, I will also be unable to walk."

"But I've done quite a few jobs that carry such risks. Am I looking for thrills?" Stark said.

"I am the richest person in this world, and I have power that the vast majority of people in this world don't have. I have absolutely no need to wear my expensive mecha to save those ordinary people whose monthly wages can't even buy a single screw on me, let alone take such a big risk."

Spider-Man closed his eyes. After a moment of silence, he said, "... With great power comes great responsibility, right?"

Stark didn't answer; he just pointed to his own heart.

And Peter already understood what he meant. He thought his heart had already given him the answer.

Facing the morning sun of New York City, Peter and Stark stood at the very top of the TV tower, watching that touch of golden radiance cut through the clouds, plating all the buildings in New York with a brilliant gold.

From today on, Peter Parker, Spider-Man, understood a truth—

So-called heroes are also mortals. They feel pain, get hurt, bleed, feel lonely, and feel lost. The only difference between them and the mediocre ordinary people on the ground is that they have a sense of responsibility that ordinary people don't have, and a great determination to carry out justice until death.

No one in this world is born able to resist such intense pain. When they move forward in the darkness, they condense the pain-engraved flesh and blood into a sturdy armor on their bodies, and when the sky clears, they use these hard bones to save the world.

Spider-Man stood up from the iron frame of the TV tower for the first time. He hadn't put on the Spider-Man spandex yet, and he wasn't that tall or strong yet, but his soul stood up, becoming upright. The surging emotions in his chest turned into a kind of power, spreading from his wounds to his whole body.

Facing the first ray of morning sun, he thought, the sky has cleared—

It's time to save the world.