Peter had the nagging feeling that something was off today, but he could not quite figure out what it was. His spider-sense had not gone off, which meant there was no immediate danger, and yet he still felt strangely uneasy, like something had shifted out of place.
Then it hit him.
Flash Thompson was missing.
His usual seat in the back row, right by the trash can, sat empty, which was unusual.
Sure, Flash was an awful student, but in the past two years, he had never once called out sick or skipped class.
His grades in most subjects were a complete disaster, but Peter had to admit the guy had his strengths. Military theory, for one. That miserable subject always gave Peter a headache, but Flash loved it and ranked first in the grade every single time. As much as Peter hated to admit it, the guy really did have a few things he was good at.
"Hey, Peter, my best friend, you free tonight? Want to come have dinner at my place? My dad misses you." Harry draped an arm around Peter's shoulder and whispered in his ear.
Class was still in session, so even Harry kept his voice down.
Peter just stared at him.
What do you mean your dad misses me?
There was no way Norman Osborn had some weird fixation, right? Every time Peter saw him, the man looked at him with such intense approval that it made Peter's skin crawl.
To be fair, Harry's family really had taken good care of Peter's over the years. But ever since Peter started showing real talent in research, Norman had become increasingly eager to recruit him into Oscorp. And in the last two years, that eagerness had only gotten more obvious.
Still, Peter was sure today's strange feeling had nothing to do with Norman.
It almost certainly had to do with the idiot currently hanging off his shoulder.
"When someone suddenly acts nice for no reason, they're either up to something or about to ask for a favor. Stop hiding behind Uncle Norman. I know exactly what kind of person you are. So go on, what is it?"
"Bro, monthly exams are coming up next week. And, well, you know how bad my grades are, so I was thinking..."
"You little..."
"Fine. I'll help. But I'm not going to your house. Where are we eating this afternoon?"
Peter did not really have any plans, and he was already used to eating on other people's dime, so he agreed without much thought.
"Perfect. I know a place nearby. I'll book a table. I'll call MJ, you get Gwen, and the four of us can..."
"Hey, your little boys' club plan does not automatically include me, okay? And Harry, maybe try studying for once. You cannot keep leaning on Peter every time monthly exams come around. And Peter, you cannot keep helping him forever either."
Gwen, who sat in front of Peter, turned around with obvious exasperation.
"So you're not coming?"
"Why wouldn't I? If someone else is paying, of course I'm showing up."
"Harry. Peter. This is not the time to chat. Homework's due."
MJ's outfit today was enough to turn heads. Skinny jeans and a casual jacket. Harry could barely take his eyes off her.
Peter, on the other hand, felt nothing.
He had seen what she looked like back when she was still awkward-looking, so her glow-up did not do much for him. Besides, she was way too violent. Just because he had once called her ugly when they were kids, she chased him for over a mile with a baseball bat. That was not something he was ever going to forget.
Compared to that, my Gwen is way gentler...
"Homework? When have you ever seen me do homework?" Peter spread his hands. If they wanted homework from him, they could just take his life instead.
And it was true. In the past two years, Peter had rarely turned in homework. Unless there was some special reason or extra credit involved, he could not even be bothered to pick up a pen.
For him, homework was too tedious and nowhere near challenging enough.
MJ was not surprised at all. Then she looked at Harry.
Harry copied Peter, spread his hands, and shrugged shamelessly. "Sorry. I do not think I've done homework either."
MJ frowned, her pretty brows knitting together.
"Harry, if you keep this up, you're not getting into a good school."
They had grown up together, and naturally MJ did not want to see him fall behind.
Though she seemed to be forgetting one very important thing.
Harry's father was rich.
Very rich.
With Norman Osborn's money, a little donation here and there could open just about any door Harry wanted.
After all, Norman Osborn was one of the most famous wealthy men in the entire country.
One day Harry would inherit tens of billions of dollars in assets without lifting a finger. Even if he did absolutely nothing and just left the money sitting in the bank, the interest alone would still be outrageous.
And if Harry wanted to, any elite university would gladly welcome him.
Even if he decided not to go to college at all, Norman could place him straight into Oscorp after graduation.
Oscorp was one of New York's best-known pharmaceutical and weapons corporations, worth hundreds of billions. Every year, countless graduates fought tooth and nail just for a chance to get in.
"By the way, MJ, what college do you want to go to? Harvard? Stanford? I remember when we were kids you wanted to be an actress. Do you still want that?"
Harry changed the subject so smoothly it almost deserved applause. In just a few sentences, the whole homework conversation was gone.
"So you do remember that? Funny, because I also remember that besides this idiot Peter, there was another annoying jerk who made fun of me nonstop. What, finally realized I'm gorgeous?"
"As for acting, that was just a childhood dream. I thought about it and decided I want to be a journalist instead. I want to expose every injustice out there."
Watching MJ practically glow with confidence, Peter immediately turned his head away. He had no interest in looking at her smug expression. Instead, he reached over and started playing with Gwen's light blond hair, earning glare after glare every time she turned around.
"Nice goal. So, are you free for dinner this afternoon?"
"No problem."
...
By the time school let out, Harry's stretched luxury car was already waiting outside.
Peter sat with Gwen, while Harry sat with MJ. The four of them chatted face-to-face the whole ride until they arrived at a Chinese restaurant.
A bank sat directly across the street from it.
"This place is usually packed. Weird seeing it this empty."
The four of them sat by the window, and Peter glanced around the quiet restaurant.
"Oh, I rented the whole place out."
The other three just looked at him in silence.
Then they started ordering.
By now, all of them were used to Harry's absurdly rich behavior.
"Alright then, ladies, please, order whatever you want."
A little while later, several dishes were brought over. Even though it was supposed to be Chinese food, it had clearly been toned down for local tastes.
Peter clicked his tongue.
If he wanted something that actually tasted right, he'd probably have to make it himself.
The four of them kept chatting while they ate. From elementary school through high school, they had shared meals like this countless times, so whenever the four of them were together, nobody held back. They just said whatever was on their minds.
Because Peter was sitting by the window, he casually glanced outside.
And immediately spotted a familiar figure.
Flash.
He looked awful.
His upper body looked more or less fine, but his pants were torn to pieces, and he was barefoot, like he had just crawled out of some nightmare.
Across the street, in front of the bank, Flash stumbled forward in a daze. His memory was a mess. All he knew was that when he woke up, there had been two mangled corpses beside him. He had nearly jumped out of his skin, thrown his clothes back on, and bolted from the lab.
If he went home looking like this, his mother and sister would panic.
So he decided to stop at the bank, pull out some money, buy a clean set of clothes, and only then go home.
The bank was as busy as ever today.
Flash quietly took his place at the back of the line.
Then a gunshot made his whole body jerk.
"Everybody get down and keep your heads low!"
Screams broke out instantly throughout the bank.
Flash turned and saw several robbers in stocking masks. One hand held a gun, the other a sack, and one of them was even pushing a small cart.
Honestly, they looked ridiculous.
It was like they had raided someone's dresser for tights and called it a disguise. Not only did it fail to hide their faces, it somehow made them look even worse.
Especially the Black robber at the front with the flesh-colored stocking over his face. Flash honestly thought the guy might have looked better without it.
"Boss, the vault should be cleared in about ten minutes. Whole operation should take around thirty."
One of the robbers wearing black stockings walked over to the one with the shotgun and quietly reported in.
"Good. Right on schedule."
The Black robber in charge nodded in satisfaction.
Bang!
With another gunshot, a security guard who had tried to hit the alarm was dropped instantly by the shotgun blast.
That one shot was enough to silence the whole bank.
Nobody dared move anymore.
"People like this bring it on themselves. Wouldn't it be easier to stay put and act like a hostage? Why try to be a hero?"
"I'm warning all of you, stay still. Otherwise the next one getting blown apart will be you."
The Black robber barked at the hostages.
At that same moment, both Peter and Gwen felt their spider-senses stir.
That only happened when danger was close.
The restaurant itself was completely safe.
After a quick glance around, only one place looked suspicious.
The bank across the street, whose doors were now tightly shut.
"Peter, you three keep eating. I need to use the restroom."
Gwen stood up first and headed toward the back.
Peter knew exactly what that meant.
She was obviously going to check out the situation.
The annoying part was that he had wanted to use that same excuse himself, and she had beaten him to it.
Just as Peter was starting to get restless in his seat, there came a crash.
The bank's heavy glass doors burst outward.
A monster over seven feet tall stepped out slowly, holding a robber by the throat.
Its body was packed with muscle. Its skin had a bluish tint. Fins and whisker-like tendrils jutted out from its body, its clawed hands were massive, its mouth was lined with jagged fangs, and thick saliva dripped steadily to the ground.
All three people in the restaurant who saw it froze.
Peter especially could not stop staring at the shotgun-wielding Black robber in stockings being held up in one hand like a chicken.
Then he let out a sigh.
"This city really does have a special talent for chaos. Even bank robbers can end up picking the wrong mutant."
"Seriously... you never know whether tomorrow or disaster is going to show up first."
(End of Chapter)
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