Chapter 5: CHAPTER 5
Hello, Open the Door and Check
"Sir, there's an issue with Russell's background information," J.A.R.V.I.S. reported.
"What's the problem?" Tony Stark asked, his tone sharp but curious.
"His identity appears to be forged, and the forgery is unusually crude," J.A.R.V.I.S. explained.
"That's it?" Tony raised an eyebrow, surprised.
Plenty of people lived under fake identities—stowaways, assassins, spies—but what did it matter to him? Tony doubted Russell's path would cross his again in any significant way.
"Sir, his emergence bears a striking resemblance to Miss Stacy's. He seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with no traceable past," J.A.R.V.I.S. added.
Tony leaned back in his chair. "Aren't most agents like that? No need to overanalyze, J.A.R.V.I.S. Keep an eye on both Russell and Gwen, but don't take any unnecessary action."
His encounter with Gwen last night left him indebted. Investigating her was purely precautionary. Whatever her true intentions were, as long as she didn't interfere with Stark Industries, Tony wasn't concerned. In fact, after discovering her vigilante activities, he decided to help cover her tracks.
"Understood, sir."
---
Elsewhere
"Russell, we've been down this street already," Gwen Stacy said, her tone puzzled as she glanced at him behind the wheel. "Don't tell me you're bad with directions."
"I'm making sure we're not being followed," Russell replied, rolling his eyes. "There was a major commotion near Stark Industries last night. Who knows if someone's tracking us?"
Gwen tilted her head, still confused. "I was careful to avoid the cameras when I left. How did Tony Stark manage to find me?"
Russell gestured upward. "Stark Industries owns a fleet of private satellites. It's possible one of them caught you. And don't forget, Tony's got J.A.R.V.I.S.—a highly advanced AI. Big data combined with artificial intelligence makes it pretty easy to track someone down in New York."
Gwen frowned, her mind racing. Sure, she understood the capabilities of AI and big data, but could this world really be so much more advanced than her own? Glancing at the surrounding architecture and recalling the technology she'd encountered over the past few weeks, she concluded that the two universes seemed technologically comparable.
"After all this driving, it's clear no one's tailing us," Russell continued. "It seems like Tony Stark is the only one who's uncovered your identity. That's good news."
Russell pulled the car over. "Here we are—Smith's Pizza. The decor might be dated, but the food's better than any upscale joint."
"Smith's Pizza?!" Gwen exclaimed.
"What? You know it?" Russell asked, surprised.
"Yeah, I know it," Gwen nodded. "When I first ran out of money, Mr. and Mrs. Smith took me in. I worked here part-time for a while."
Russell chuckled. "Small world. When I first came to New York, broke and clueless, the Smiths helped me out too."
Sometimes, Russell thought, life felt like a string of coincidences, though he doubted the universe was that small. Instead, it seemed there were just too few genuinely good people.
---
Inside the pizzeria, a gruff but warm voice greeted them.
"Gwen! You're back! Did your interview go well today?"
The speaker was an older man whose muscular frame hinted at a once-powerful physique. Time had softened his edges, but his sharp features spoke of a formidable youth.
"It went well, Uncle Smith," Russell interjected with a grin. "I thought I'd bring Gwen here to celebrate, but I didn't expect you two to know each other."
"Russell! You know Gwen too?" Smith's eyes widened.
"Good afternoon, Grandpa Smith," Gwen said with a smile. "Russell's my boss now."
Smith laughed heartily. "Your boss? Didn't expect that. So, you've gone from being broke to owning a bookstore? Not bad, kid."
He clapped Russell on the shoulder. "Alright, this calls for a celebration. Sit down, order whatever you want—it's on me."
Russell ordered Kobe pizza and a Coca-Cola, while Gwen opted for a fruit pizza.
"Hey," Smith teased, "this is New York, not L.A. Kobe's a basketball legend, not a chef."
Kobe Bryant's name had become synonymous with greatness in 2010, thanks to his back-to-back NBA championships.
---
As the store quieted down, Smith joined them for a chat. Curious about their connection, he asked how they'd met.
Russell recounted their encounter, replacing Gwen's fight with vampires with a tale involving gangsters. Smith listened intently, his expression shifting between concern and relief.
"Gwen, you're too reckless," he said, his tone both reproachful and protective. "Didn't I warn you? My friend's granddaughter was kidnapped a few nights ago. She's fine now, thank God, but the ordeal could've ended differently." His voice cracked, and his eyes reddened.
Gwen, feigning guilt, lowered her gaze. "I know, Grandpa Smith. I'll be more careful."
Russell observed her, piecing together the real reason she'd been out patrolling the streets the previous night. She'd been hunting for Uncle Smith's granddaughter.
Smith sighed. "Thankfully, a mysterious figure brought her back. I don't know who they were, but I owe them everything."
Gwen and Russell exchanged a glance, their silence heavy with unspoken truths.
---
After comforting Smith and reassuring him of Gwen's safety, Russell turned to her. "Let's go visit that girl."
"Do you have a plan?" Gwen asked, intrigued.
Russell shrugged. "Not exactly, but I've got a friend who might help."
This "friend" was Yao, the Supreme Mage, though Russell lacked concrete proof of their identity. Still, he trusted them implicitly.
---
Later, at a quiet Manhattan community, Gwen donned her black, white, and rose-pink Spider-Woman suit, pulling up her hood and mask.
"Do you always wear tights under your clothes?" Russell teased as he adjusted his Zorro hat and cape.
Gwen smirked. "It's practical. What's your excuse for that ridiculous outfit?"
Before Russell could respond, they reached the door. Gwen pressed the bell and leaned in.
"Hello? I'm Ghost Spider. I brought Miss Smith home last night. May I come in to check on her?"
Russell barely finished speaking before Gwen pushed him aside, taking the lead as always.
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