Chapter 98

Entering Stark Tower, Connors still moved quickly; Peter chased after them, saying, “Alright, Doctor, I’ve safely delivered you—Stark Tower should be safe now, so I’ll be off, I’ve got things to do…”

“Things to do? Of course you’ve got things to do! What? Are you planning to put on that weird spandex suit and go wandering again?”

“I’m not wandering—that monster is causing destruction in the city, and I have to stop him…”

“But isn’t Stark already there? Do you really think he can’t handle the monster?”

“Well, no, but he still needs help, right?”

“I need help too. Put down your backpack, put on the full lab suit, and let’s go to the lab. To solve this mess, we have to start with the serum.”

“But I have to join the fight—I can’t be a coward!”

Dr. Connors stopped, turned, and gripped Peter’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. “The battlefield isn’t always out there.”

He pointed out the window. “The most important lesson I learned in the military is that not every battlefield is filled with bullets and explosions.”

“Sometimes, here…” Dr. Connors pointed to the floor beneath them, “here is a more important battlefield than out there.”

“You must understand—punching is never nobler than thinking.”

“You need to realize: beating up that monster won’t turn him into a good Samaritan, and the military won’t stop their evil experiments. To solve this at its root, strength alone isn’t enough—you have to think.”

“But how? I don’t understand…”

Peter fell in step behind Connors as they walked forward, saying, “I’ve always done this—stopping bad people from hurting others. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong, but I think you can do better.”

“Peter, perhaps your mutation, this sudden power you’ve gained, made you feel like you’ve gone from weak to strong, and that this change alone can change the world.”

“But in truth, even without this mutation, you could still achieve it.”

“Have you not realized yet? You’re a genius. Even without these powers, even without boundless stamina—if you just went to college, joined a research institute—you’d still change the world someday.”

“Your mutation only accelerated the process, but it isn’t everything. You must break free from this inflated emotion and ask yourself: who are you?”

“Who am I? I’m Spider-Man…”

“That’s true—but you’re also Peter Parker.”

Dr. Connors stepped inside and pointed to the lab bench. “Look—this is your battlefield too. Here, you’ll do better than Spider-Man. You can change the world right here.”

Peter stood at the doorway, tiptoed slightly, then rubbed his hands. “Really? But… no one’s ever told me this before. They all said I was weak, bad at sports, always alone—a weirdo…”

“Do those people who said that have three doctorates?”

“Uh, they’re just high schoolers—of course not.”

“Then who should you believe?”

Peter hesitated.

After a moment, he said, “Alright.”

Connors’ affirmation gave him courage. He rubbed his wrists hard. “Then I’ll try it. Today, I won’t be Spider-Man. Let Spider-Man take a day off. We’ll just… do this here…”

Connors, organizing materials, said, “That’s right. He’ll take more days off in the future. New York doesn’t need another superhero swinging through the air—but the world will always need another Nobel Prize candidate.”

“I think Peter Parker could use a day off too—I really do enjoy swinging over New York,” Peter said, exhaling and shrugging.

This was the first time anyone had told him Peter Parker mattered more than Spider-Man.

Until now, all his confidence came from being Spider-Man—the one with immense power. After all, he’d faced so much bullying at school; being Spider-Man, who could help others, had given him purpose.

But he realized Dr. Connors was right: those who doubted and excluded him were just high schoolers with no college degrees. Yet the people who had affirmed Peter’s identity now held seven or eight doctorates between them. Peter wasn’t stupid—compared to that, their words were far more credible.

He’d always known his mind was sharp—he could get excellent grades without even trying.

But he’d never imagined his intellect could change the world.

That’s why he’d been so thrilled when he gained the spider mutation—he thought he’d gone from weak to strong, never realizing he’d never been weak to begin with.

Peter had other strengths too. Even without his brilliant mind or super strength, his kindness and determination would have been enough to earn him a decent place in ordinary society.

Teenagers are always full of dreams yet full of doubt. When someone gives him a firm answer—and that person has achieved the highest success in their field—Peter believed.

Meanwhile, Stark had reached the battlefield and faced serious trouble. He called the creature the Red Iguana—and it was even more troublesome than the Lizard Man.

First, it was bigger—over ten meters tall, as tall as a building.

Second, it was incredibly strong—every punch could knock down a structure. Worse, it seemed locked in a rage, nearly mindless, charging blindly.

Stark usually preferred fighting mindless enemies—JARVIS’s tactical calculations could outmaneuver them, making victory easier.

But this Red Iguana, though irrational, was deadly simply because of its size and strength. Even just charging and swinging fists was enough to kill.

The Lizard had only appeared days ago, and Stark’s armor upgrades took time. He’d just begun developing ideas for fighting large monsters, hadn’t even tested them, and now another giant had emerged. It frustrated him—his current light armor was useless against this thing.

As Stark pondered tactics, a gleaming shield flew in, striking the monster’s forehead and knocking it off balance.

Stark saw Steve, and his face darkened. He hadn’t forgotten how Steve had used the excuse of ridding him of Venom to beat him senseless—and then denied it, claiming it was for his own good.

Stark hated being spoken to like a child. He hated being beaten first, then lectured. He hated it even more when the same person who beat him then beat an even tougher enemy, making him look useless.

Steve retrieved his shield, leaped, and landed on the monster’s neck, landing two hard punches.

The brain is vital to any creature. After two such blows, the monster staggered. Seizing the moment, Steve hurled his shield at the monster’s right calf. The creature howled and retracted its leg; Steve then slammed into its side, toppling it.

“Thanks, Tony. I’ve never fought anything this massive before—you’ve given me plenty of experience.”

JARVIS spoke inside Stark’s armor: “Your heart rate is elevated, blood pressure rising. Please calm down. Breathe deeply…”

Stark said, “Initiate Hive Protocol. Now! Immediately!”

“Are you certain you wish to disable all safety protocols and…?”

“I’m certain! Activate now!!”

Steve, mid-fight, looked up and saw Stark in the air raising his arm. With a wave, dozens of sharp whistles pierced the air—dozens of black dots appeared overhead, then descended onto the battlefield: dozens, even hundreds, of armored suits.

baimengshu.

Stark shouted, “Move aside, old man!”

Instantly, one suit dove down and exploded. The Red Iguana was blasted backward several steps. Steve, shield raised, was thrown back. He punched the air. “Cease fire on friendly units—you did that on purpose!”

Stark smiled. “You misunderstand. I was only looking out for you.”

Stark waved again. Dozens of suits flew in, surrounding the monster. In an instant, high-voltage currents surged between them, forming a web of electricity. After a blinding flash, the monster let out a horrific scream and collapsed to the ground.

Stark said, “That was effective—but I think it can be improved. By the way, don’t record this move’s inspiration as that yellow rat named Pikachu—he electrocuted my armor, and I haven’t made him pay yet.”

The monster, though down, quickly rose again. Stark groaned. “It must be related to that giant lizard—how the hell do they heal like this?”

Indeed, the charred burns from the electric shock had already fully healed within minutes. His stamina seemed restored too—he’d just been beaten by Captain America, and now he was back, rampaging again.

Their attacks were powerful enough, but without Spider-Man, they lacked control. Spider-Man’s webbing could easily destabilize or trip such massive creatures. Stark was about to call when JARVIS informed him Peter was in the lab with Dr. Connors.

He hung up without a word.

As the battle grew desperate, a red-and-blue figure suddenly appeared above the city. Peter swung in fast, kicking the monster’s back and sending it crashing down.

In his hand, he carried a case. He tossed it to Stark. “Antidote. Inject all five vials. Then the world will be quiet.”

Stark tossed the case to a nearby suit, flying as he spoke. “Your research?”

“No—mostly Dr. Connors. I just helped.”

“Then it’s your research.”

The suit, under Stark’s control, opened the case, took the syringes, and distributed them to other suits. Steve distracted the monster while several suits struck from behind, injecting the serum.

The monster screamed wildly, thrashing its arms—but soon its body began shrinking, rapidly returning to human size.

Stark saw the man lying on the ground—no arms. He sighed. “Send a suit to retrieve him. If anyone asks, say he was blown to pieces.”

He looked up at Spider-Man on the rooftop, flew over, and stood beside him. “How does it feel to save the world as Peter Parker?”

“Great. I mean… amazing!”

Peter exhaled, as if shedding a heavy burden.

For the first time, he built confidence in his true identity—not from the spider mutation’s power, but from Peter Parker’s own character.

He’d often wondered: what if the spider mutation was just a dream? What if the power vanished tomorrow? What then?

In truth, he’d lived for many days in doubt and fear—terrified of losing this identity, convinced the world couldn’t survive without Spider-Man.

Today, for the first time, Peter felt the world might need not only Spider-Man—but also Peter Parker. Needed him. Needed this version of him, without special powers.

“Wisdom is humanity’s greatest treasure,” Stark said, not looking at him, but gazing ahead. “Don’t set your sights on being a street hero. The path of wisdom is endless.”

Peter smiled, removed his mask—as if breaking free from chains.

His hair danced in the breeze. He saw the magnificent clouds in the sunset’s glow, watched the sun’s final brilliant light vanish beyond the horizon—

He saw a new world’s door open.