With logic taking over, Alice skillfully picked up a screwdriver and began to assemble.
"Web fluid is a Non-Newtonian fluid. It's liquid when at rest, but once subjected to high-pressure shear force, it solidifies instantly. Therefore, what you need is a two-stage booster structure."
Her fingers were as nimble as if she were playing the piano; the parts that were disobedient in Peter's hands quickly took shape in hers.
"This is a titanium alloy nozzle I scavenged from, well, a high-end scrapyard. Its pressure resistance is sufficient. Combined with this micro-turbine pump, it can accelerate the fluid to supersonic speeds within 0.01 seconds."
Ten minutes later.
Two silver-grey wristband devices with an industrial aesthetic appeared on the desk.
They were much more compact than Peter's original design, fitting snugly against the wrist. The nozzles were hidden beneath the base of the palm, connected to pressure-sensitive pads by two extremely thin tubes.
"Try it," Alice said, handing them to him.
Peter's hands trembled as he put on the devices.
The cold metallic touch gave him a strange sense of reassurance.
He walked to the window, took a deep breath, and aimed at the chimney on the roof of the building opposite.
Bending his middle and ring fingers, he applied force with the base of his palm.
*Thwip—*
A faint but powerful sound of ejection.
A white thread shot out like a sword from its scabbard, instantly crossing the distance of over ten meters and sticking precisely to the chimney.
Peter gave it a experimental tug.
It didn't budge.
"Wow, this feel... it's so smooth, it's like it's a part of my own body."
Peter turned back excitedly, his eyes shining like light bulbs.
Alice clapped her hands and looked Peter up and down.
"So, what do you plan to wear to that underground wrestling match? Don't tell me you're going in that plaid shirt."
"Of course not, I've designed a suit."
Peter excitedly dragged a paper bag from under the bed and pulled out a red and blue hoodie and sweatpants like a prized treasure.
On the chest, a spider that looked like a squashed cockroach was drawn crookedly with a black marker. There was a red ski mask for his head, with the eye area modified from windproof goggles.
"I designed this based on a wrestler's style. It conceals my identity and is breathable. I call it The Human Spider!"
Peter held the clothes against himself, looking at Alice with anticipation.
Alice went silent.
Looking at that aesthetic disaster of a suit, which reeked of cheapness, even Ai Haibara's cold exterior almost cracked.
"Peter."
"Yeah?"
"Promise me, if you ever have money in the future, the first thing you do is find a better tailor. This outfit makes you look like you're going to rob a convenience store, not be a superhero."
"Hey, it's a style—a kind of retro minimalism," Peter defended himself, somewhat unconvinced.
Just then, Aunt Mei's shout came from downstairs.
"Kids, wash your hands and come down to eat. The roast is ready."
The atmosphere at dinner was so warm it could make one cry.
For Alice, an orphan in her past life and the daughter of a fraudster in this one, the Parker family's dinner table was one of the only two places in this World where she could let down her guard.
No gangs, no monsters, no schemes.
Only Peter's non-stop bad jokes, Aunt Mei constantly piling meat onto her plate, and Uncle Ben's wise and tolerant gaze.
After dinner, Peter went to wash the dishes.
Uncle Ben signaled for Alice to join him on the porch.
The night breeze blew gently. Uncle Ben lit a cheap pipe, one of his few hobbies.
"Alice," Uncle Ben puffed out a smoke ring, his gaze becoming deep. "I know what happened with your parents was a tragedy. I also know people out there are whispering about you."
Alice remained silent.
"But I want you to know."
Uncle Ben turned around, his rough but warm hand covering the back of Alice's hand.
"In Mei's eyes and mine, you aren't 'that girl from the Mason family.' You are just Alice, Peter's best friend, and a part of this family. If you run into any trouble, whether it's with Sarah or money, even if we aren't wealthy, the doors of the Parker house will always be open to you."
The old man's gaze was sincere and firm, filled with the unreserved protection of an elder for a junior.
"Look at Peter. That boy used to walk with his shoulders hunched and wouldn't say a word when Thompson bullied him. But ever since you moved here, I've seen a light in his eyes. You gave him confidence, Alice."
"You're a good kid. No matter what others say, your eyes don't lie."
Uncle Ben patted the back of her hand, as if to pass some strength to her.
Alice felt a slight sting in her nose.
In this World full of superheroes and supervillains, Ben Parker had no superpowers.
He was just a simple retired electrician, but the heart of gold he possessed was more brilliant than any of the Infinity Stones.
"Thank you, Uncle Ben."
Alice looked up and gave a genuine smile from the bottom of her heart.
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