NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 2: Chapter - 2
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Chapter -2: Web of Shadows
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I swing between the buildings of New York with surprising ease, letting the webs carry me from one structure to another. The city sprawls beneath me, like a mosaic of lights and shadows merging with the night sky.
Every time I leap from a rooftop, I feel the adrenaline spike, the wind whipping against my mask, the absolute freedom of flying—or at least something very close to it.
Hell's Kitchen stretches out before me, a neighborhood that has seen better days. The buildings are dark, marked by years of decay and the malign influence of Fisk. I swing over the dimly lit streets, the graffiti marking the walls with "Kingpin" reminding me of who holds this city in its grip.
I can't help but think that, even though I've only been here a short time, I have a lot on my mind.
As I maneuver through the air, I can't shake a question from my thoughts: What will I do now that I'm here? I have powers, of course, and Peter Parker's body, but that also means inheriting his responsibilities and battles.
I move from building to building, the rhythm of swinging making me feel alive, but at the same time, aware of the danger around me. The black symbiote enveloping me seems to respond to every thought, almost anticipating my movements, but there's always that slight sense of unease that I can't shake off.
Suddenly, my spider-sense tingles sharply, alerting me to something about to happen. Without a second thought, I head toward the source of the danger, landing silently on a ledge just above a poorly lit alley.
look down and see a group of men harassing two girls, pinning them against a wall. Their crude laughter and disgusting comments make me grit my teeth in anger.
From my vantage point, I can't see the girls clearly, but it's obvious they're trying to escape the men. The thugs, however, continue to close in on them, reveling in the situation. They laugh and shove the girls, clearly enjoying their power.
"I can't believe this," I mutter, feeling my rage rise. "What are the odds that I'd land right into a situation like this as soon as I arrive in this new world..."
With a swift movement, I dive from the ledge, shooting a web at the opposite wall to gain momentum. I land silently behind them, blending into the shadows of the alley.
One of the men, likely the leader of the group, turns just in time to see me coming. I don't give him a chance to shout: a quick and precise punch sends him crashing against the wall, dazed. The others turn around, caught off guard, but it's too late for them.
I move with a fluidity I've never experienced before. Every strike is perfectly calculated, every move with a clear objective—to neutralize them, not to kill. I hear bones crack under my fists, but I don't hesitate.
One of them tries to pull out a knife, but with a swift flick of my wrist, I disarm him, causing the rusty blade to clatter to the ground as he collapses under my assault.
"A knife? Seriously? I thought you'd be more original," I comment with an ironic tone, as the man I was hitting crumples to the ground, unconscious.
My strikes are relentless. I might not have much technique, and I'm not entirely sure where to hit for maximum effect, but I keep knocking them down with a force that almost surprises me.
A grim satisfaction fills me as I continue raining blows on another thug who had tried to sneak up on me from behind. It reminds me that, despite not being fully comfortable with this power yet, I'm holding back a lot of my strength to avoid killing anyone.
In the middle of the assault, my spider-sense suddenly jolts, a sharp tingle running down my spine. Something's wrong...
I turn just in time to see the attacker grab the discarded knife. In a desperate move, he throws the blade at me. I manage to dodge, but not entirely. The knife strikes my forearm with a dull thud.
I expect to see blood, a wound, but... Nothing.
The blade doesn't leave even a faint trace on my skin. Instead, the black suit regenerates instantly, as if the hit had never happened. I glance at the struck spot in surprise: the symbiote has already repaired any damage, pulsating silently beneath the surface.
The attacker looks at me with wide eyes, his desperation evident. He doesn't realize that I'm no longer just playing around. With my spider-sense still pulsing inside me, warning me of his every move, I won't let him touch me again.
"And now it's my turn," I mutter through gritted teeth, as I prepare to counterattack, feeling the symbiote respond to my thoughts.
I take a step back, acknowledging that, while I possess the abilities and adaptability of the symbiote, my battle instincts are still unrefined, needing more time to develop.
I charge back with renewed determination. I intensify the assault, redirecting the attacker's own weapon against him. My anger and adrenaline drive me, and I feel my strength surge.
When the final decisive blow lands, the attacker is left on the ground, unconscious and severely injured. His bones are broken and his body is covered in bruises, but he's still alive.
I feel strange. I have no desire to inflict gratuitous violence, yet my body seems to have no issue doing so. My chest swells with controlled aggression, and the adaptability of the symbiote even helps me breathe better, aiding my recovery.
The girls seem less frightened than I expected, staring at me with wide eyes. I give a reassuring nod, signaling that they are now safe, which allows me to take a closer look...
The first girl, around eighteen or nineteen years old, had light brown hair falling in soft waves to her shoulders. Her light brown eyes made her look like a cute cat, a vision of local beauty.
Every movement she made seemed to accentuate her slim figure, wrapped in a tight black sweater and jeans that did nothing to hide her big, firm ass that was honestly a spectacle to behold.
Next to her was a petite Asian girl who seemed to be of a similar age, also very attractive with long legs and prosperous breasts, her smile capable of disarming a man, or maybe it was just me who found her pretty.
Her raven-black hair, cut short, framed her face, highlighting bright eyes, a delicate nose, and full lips, almost model-like. It was no wonder she had become a target for those thugs.
But that wasn't the point. I had already figured out who they were, and it didn't reassure me at all. I definitely didn't want to get involved in all the crap happening in this world on a daily basis.
Mutants. X-Men, to be precise.
I turned, ready to climb up the wall and disappear into the shadows as if I had never been there. But as I prepared to leave, I heard a voice behind me that made me stop in my tracks.
"Wait-" one of them says, trying to stop me, perhaps to thank me. But honestly, at least for the moment, I didn't want to get involved with anyone since I still had my own problems to sort out.
I turn slightly, smiling under the mask, and in a light, confident tone, I say, "You don't need me to handle this situation, do you?"
Without waiting for a response, I make an agile leap and disappear between the buildings. The city stretches out below me, and I can't help but reflect on the aftermath of my recent battle in the alley, a faint smile spreading across my lips.
It had been a learning experience, a launchpad for the potential of my new abilities. And saving two girls made me feel better about myself, a small reward for the brutal lesson learned in the streets.
With renewed swagger in my step, I continued my journey through the city. It was then that I noticed the subtle changes in my posture and gait, as moving between the webs became increasingly effortless.
The experience of Spider-Man had seeped into every aspect of me; every time I spoke, I couldn't help but crack a joke. But more importantly, now I moved with the a predator, or rather, a spider.
Embracing these changes, I found a sense of liberation in my newfound physicality. All of this was a testament to the transformation I had undergone, not only in terms of combat skills but also in the very way I carried myself.
The city streets were my training ground, and every dark alley was a potential arena. In truth, beating that thug had been almost fun. I felt stronger, and I had done a good deed...
I was like an anti-hero from most of the novels I read, but without all the usual crap and lack of originality since I had the abilities of the most famous Marvel hero.
As I moved through the streets, with my senses heightened, I thought about how useful it would be to find more thugs to quickly adjust to my new situation. I didn't want to face the Sinister Six without being able to defend myself.
But the thrill of combat and the chance to gain valuable experience strengthened my resolve. Was this an effect of my symbiote? The pleasure of fighting and the thrill of the hunt?
Was it just me? Or was it something else entirely? Honestly, I was quite confused and for the time being I just kept going until the panic inside me had subsided and I could take stock of my situation seriously.
In any case, the opportunity presented itself sooner than expected. Another figure emerged from the darkness: a white man with red, dilated eyes. He was trying to rob a poor man, and when he made his demand, he had no idea he was about to encounter something far different from what he expected.
I felt the adrenaline rise as I watched the scene, preparing to intervene to prevent things from ending badly. I leaped from the rooftop of a building, landing agilely between the two and intervened to save the man.
The thug, caught off guard, "Spider-Man? Fuck!" turned toward me, and I could immediately tell he was under the influence of some drug, brandishing a rusty blade. My movements, while not yet perfect, were enough to handle the situation.
I easily dodged the thug's attack, my long strides taking me out of harm's way as the knife only made a superficial cut in my costume, leaving no trace of blood on my forearm.
My costume regenerated instantly as if nothing had happened. A smile spread across my lips as I counterattacked with more speed and force, wanting to end things quickly.
My punch hit the thug's elbow with precision, bending his arm in an unnatural way and making him drop the weapon with a cry of pain like a pig being slaughtered.
The alley echoed with the impact.
Despite the thug's desperate attempt to kick me, I anticipated the move with superior agility, demonstrating one of my best characteristics. If it had been moments ago, without being used to these new senses, I might have been hit.
The fight continued with precise and targeted attacks, each blow improved by the previous combat experience. I avoided hitting the thug's bones, not wanting to accidentally kill him with my strength.
When the thug tried to grab the fallen knife, I was quicker, kicking it away into the distance. With a decisive blow to the temple, I ended the fight. The thug collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Meanwhile, the man I had saved, scared and anxious, wasted no time fleeing, trying to get to safety. I watched him run out of the alley as I turned back toward the now bloodied thug.
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Marvel: I'm Spider-Man in this Damn Reincarnation: 3 advanced chapters
Osmosian Sorcerer?: 3 advanced chapters
Son of Li Qiye?: 3 advanced chapters
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Chapter - 3: Home - Chapter - 4: Interlude - Chapter - 5: A Universe of My Own
Chapter - 14: Magix - Chapter - 15: Bloom - Chapter - 16: Demon Sorcerers
Chapter - 4: Power Aspect Totem - Chapter - 5: Xaoi Ning'er - Chapter - 6: Wind Lightning Emperor Inheritance
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