Marvel: Transmigrated with Travelling Frog?!

At Gwen's home...

Fresh out of the shower, Gwen walked out of the bathroom wearing pink pajamas.

She glanced at her mom, who was still knitting a sweater, and asked, "Mom, is Dad still not back?"

Gwen's mother shook her head.

"He's always this busy."

Just as she spoke, the sound of the front door opening came from the entrance, followed by George walking in with an unhappy expression.

His face, tired and sullen, softened slightly when he saw Gwen at home.

Of course, if he knew that Gwen had only just gotten home herself, his expression likely wouldn't have been so pleasant.

Sensing something was off with her father, Gwen asked, "Dad, did something happen at Stark Industries again?"

"Stark Industries... Obadiah stepped in and settled a lot of that," George replied as he entered the room. "But this time, it's mostly because of Daredevil..."

"Daredevil?" Gwen was puzzled. How did Daredevil cause trouble for her father?

George continued, "Tonight, the department received a call about an armed robbery. By the time we arrived at the scene, the gunmen had already been taken down by Daredevil."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Gwen questioned.

"Good thing?" George's brow furrowed. "He's just a vigilante abusing his power. Don't let me catch him!"

Hearing this, Gwen's temper flared. "What's wrong with helping people?"

"If everyone started abusing power like him and were encouraged for it, it would only perpetuate this cycle of violent justice!" George's stern words left Gwen momentarily speechless.

As the Chief Commissioner of the NYPD, George had always been staunchly opposed to individual acts of violent heroism. To him, Daredevil epitomized exactly what he despised. He couldn't stand the masked vigilante.

"Well, if I had abilities like Daredevil's, I would choose to help people too!" Gwen said, storming upstairs, unwilling to argue further with her father.

George could only watch helplessly as his daughter left the room, saying nothing more.

As a seasoned father, he knew all too well what Gwen was truly thinking. He also knew about Gwen secretly practicing martial arts, but he pretended not to notice.

Having worked his way up in New York for decades, eventually becoming the Commissioner,

George was well aware that personal heroism rarely ended well. It either dragged down the people around them... or destroyed the heroes themselves.

"Sorry for being late tonight. Is there any food left?" George asked his wife.

"Sit down, I'll get you something," she replied.

Meanwhile, in Gwen's room...

Gwen sat at her desk, browsing the internet for information on Daredevil. Among the articles were several photos of the masked vigilante, snapped by citizens.

In the images, Daredevil stood tall, armed with his signature batons, exuding power. At his feet lay criminals who had been dealt with for their wrongdoing.

Every time Gwen looked at these photos, something deep inside her stirred, as if a part of her was awakening.

She opened an old notebook on her desk. Flipping through a few pages, she landed on a simple sketch.

The drawing depicted a costume, though its lines were crooked and childish—clearly something drawn by a kid. The signature beside it read "Gwen."

Seeing the immature drawing, Gwen's lips curved into a small smile. The costume was one she had designed for herself, dreaming that one day, she'd wear it to catch bad guys alongside her father, George.

But now...

Suddenly, Gwen's eyes lit up. "No, I can do this now! I have the power!" She clenched her fist. With her new superpowers, she was no longer an ordinary person.

She glanced back at the image of Daredevil on her computer screen, then at the childlike sketch of her own police uniform.

"Hey, I really... can do this..." Gwen whispered, excitement growing inside her as she began sketching in her notebook again.

This time, she was determined to design her very own "police suit."

"I wonder if he would..." A thought of Alan flashed through her mind. Gwen decided that tomorrow, she would tell Alan her idea and show him the suit she designed!

With her decision made, Gwen continued working on her design.

Two hours later...

"As for the colors..." Gwen recalled the tracksuit Alan had given her earlier that day, and instantly, a color scheme formed in her mind.

...

At Alan's Home.

With the coordinates of both locations in hand, Alan teleported back home, swiftly deactivating his Emperor Armor.

Standing by the balcony, he pondered, "I wonder when Gwen will finally finish designing her spider suit."

He was really looking forward to seeing Gwen dressed in her white spider suit.

On the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier.

After Agent Hill exhausted every resource at her disposal, a report finally landed on Nick Fury's desk.

"After it left our sight, this is the last known location of the golden armor," Hill reported.

"And where is that?" Fury didn't even glance at the report in front of him.

Agent Hill quickly responded, "The Middle Eastern desert region."

"The desert?" Fury's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Do we know what it was doing there?"

Hill shook her head. "Nothing in particular. It just spread its arms and then vanished again."

Nick Fury frowned deeply. He had never encountered something that puzzled him this much.

What was the purpose of this golden armor? Could it pose a threat to them? And could it be recruited for the Avengers?

The more Fury thought about it, the more questions arose, until Hill interrupted his thoughts.

"However, we discovered something else."

"Let's hear it."

"The location where the golden armor appeared is the same place where Tony Stark was recently attacked and went missing during the terrorist incident."

"Tony Stark?" Fury's fingers tapped rhythmically on the railing as he mused. "Could this golden armor be connected to the Stark family somehow?"

"What does Coulson have to say?" Fury asked.

Hill shook her head. "Nothing significant to report."

"If Natasha were here, this would be much easier," Fury muttered to himself before speaking again. "Get in contact with Kingpin. I'm going over there now."

"We need him to do us a favor. If he refuses, all his incriminating evidence will be sent to everyone who wants him behind bars."

"Understood!" Hill responded promptly and set to work.

After a while, she returned with a report. "Sir, Kingpin agreed."

Fury, with a dramatic flourish of his black trench coat, left the control room. "Hill, you're coming with me."

...