Reborn as the Spider who bit Peter Parker

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***

As I parked the bike next to the charcoal black mustang, I saw Alice, who was wearing something homemade, rushing towards me. And no servants? I mentally hummed. The girl herself looked just as beautiful and even the usual jeans and T-shirt with 'Blues Saraceno' in gloomy colours didn't spoil her natural beauty, but the fluffy slippers in the form of pink bunnies made me smile.

- Hmm...' the vixen said, glancing critically at my "exclusive" outfit.

- I'm sorry I had to drag you all the way out here. My flat was flooded by the neighbours upstairs. Fifth time in a year...' Lisa said with a strained smile. - But it has its own cinema. I hope Dad won't mind if we take over his cinema room to watch The Tenth Kingdom. - The girl smiled sweetly, and for a second I was curious who our daddy was.

Before Alice could finish her sentence, her leg was gently kicked by a golden retriever.

- And here's Prince... - after rubbing the obviously jealous animal for a couple of seconds, Lisa took me under her elbow, and we went into the house.

Quickly overcoming the huge hall and passing through a long corridor, which looked like an art gallery somewhere in Rome, we found ourselves in the kitchen. Taking an unremarkable plate of popcorn from the table, Lissa handed it to me, taking the same one for herself. Nodding at the same table where the drinks were, she smiled. Having collected a solid supply of various goodies we leisurely headed towards the home cinema, afraid of losing something on the way.

After relaxing in the pleasant company of our vixen and enjoying the show, I soon said goodbye to Alice and went on my way.

Once back in the city limits, I looked into the first clothing shop I could find, or May better not be seen in that one. I could have taken Lisa with me, but I didn't want to disturb her, she looked tired after the flood and all the subsequent proceedings, and I didn't want to be a bastard who stole people's time to sleep. And I should think about the costume, too, since I promised Carrot-top that I'd match the event, and for that a custom-made suit would be best. Thinking about what to choose and surfing the Internet in search of good tailors, I calmly bought myself a simple and yet comfortable clothes. Having bought myself a nice grey hoodie, a white T-shirt, jeans and sneakers, I finally went home.

As I drove past the cordoned off streets once again, I thought pensively about why the teacher had used a dirty bomb and not something else? After all, people have so many weapons, so why did he choose this one?

Creed, on the other hand, has always remained a mystery to me, so who the hell knows what's in his head.

Seeing people in protective suits, I tried to banish all unnecessary thoughts, because all these deaths were not on my conscience. Or is it? How many people are going to become mutants now? And will die in the throes of hell. Well, it's my house on the edge, so it's not my problem. It's all my fault, but do I repent? Probably not, otherwise that Lizard would have killed me. That's life and we have to live with the consequences of our choices and decisions.

But enough of this self-reflection.

I refuelled the bike and bought an ice-cream cake to make May feel better, and then drove home, enjoying the good weather and the breeze. I was just enjoying life, catching myself thinking that there were more pleasant moments than I thought, but that they had to be appreciated, otherwise all their magic would be gone. After all, life is so fleeting and we are always in a hurry, not having time to live. On the other hand, isn't this the best motivation to find a cure for aging? After all, there is no better motivator than Lady Doom with a scythe, is there? In this age of science, we'll probably find a cure for aging soon. On the other hand, I'm a genetically modified spider and I don't know how long I can live, so at the first opportunity I'll have to do it and do all the necessary research, and then make all the vital upgrades. But for now, unfortunately, there is no such opportunity, so I'll have to wait with it.

When I got home and didn't find Mei's car, I just hummed. I wondered where she was disappearing to again. After parking and wandering around the empty house, I popped the cake in the freezer and turned on the TV for background. As I sipped my coffee leisurely and listened to the latest news about the terrorist attack in New York City, I came across a hot item from J. Jonah Jameson.

- A radical terrorist group of mixed Russian descent had once again struck its blow against the fabric of our society. - Jameson was damn serious and collected. - These communists, so and so see the collapse of our American dream, and their militants are facilitating it in every way possible. I'm not calling for a new Cold War, just to kill the red menace that lurks like a snake at home. - Like a seasoned agitator Jonah skilfully manipulated words and facts calling on the public to find and punish all the radicals involved, because there is no 'fairer' trial than the good old Grandpa Lynch trial. - And I grieve with you, because my nephew died in the very epicentre of the explosion without leaving behind even ashes. How am I gonna look his mother in the eye? I'm the one who recommended our town to her as the safest and most peaceful. - A single tear was clearly the final factor in the report, but at least now I understood Jameson's motivation.

I wonder if they can get to Creed. What difference would that make? Maybe a few more bodies. They'd called the master a terrorist, so they couldn't expect any sympathy from the teacher, either. Turning off the TV and finishing my coffee, I habitually decided to go to the 'basement. If I'm not confused, it's delivery day, so I can do some good old-fashioned battle suit upgrades. Maybe finalise the auto-launch and delivery system to the deployment site. I have enough to do, and the new engines from 'T I L' and Ozcorp that I bought on the black market, they should already arrive at the point of order, as well as the armour, so I have something to do. After all, work is the best remedy for moping.

After changing into more familiar clothes, I set off on my bike to my 'basement'.

Squeezing everything I could out of the steel horse, I overtook all the oncoming cars and raced to my laboratory. It had been a long time since I had raced at full speed for myself. After all, it's a kind of meditation too, though more like a battle trance, and how else with so much adrenaline in the blood? Soon my favourite 'basement' appeared, having quickly checked the perimeter for uninvited guests and having started all security systems, I slowly descended into the underground. Having parked the bike and changed into 'working' clothes, I started diagnostics, and after it I started all the computers. Soon a pleasant light flooded all my 'basement' it said that the laboratory was ready to work and nothing critical was detected.

Habitually analysing my 'suit' I thought about what and how I could improve it. After all, there is no limit to perfection and living organisms are a direct proof of it, of course there are some controversial moments, but who has no faults? I was thinking about eternal things, like a creator trying to improve the crown of his creation with something else.

Having finished another diagnostics, I started the main work with the iron. Having put on armour, I went to collect packages. The first point was the outskirts of the city and an unremarkable cul-de-sac. After calmly checking the parcel for tracking equipment and other unpleasant things, I nodded with satisfaction. Having delivered the reinforced armour to my 'basement' I made sure to receive the next parcel, which had already been dropped by a drone on a not too conspicuous roof. Enjoying the speed and comfort of the combat vehicle, I habitually monitored all the indicators, but what was my surprise when in a couple of minutes I swung through a third of the city and without any problems took my power supplies for further suit reinforcement. After marking another point on the map with a marker, I decided to pick up a new tactical helmet from NII, if there was an opportunity, why not pick up all my packages? After spending another five minutes on the additional point, I finally finished with the collection of 'guests'. On another rooftop of an abandoned house, I witnessed a curious sight, and indeed, who would have thought that lizards would work with humans? But why the Yakuza? It's not like these manga fans are in charge of this gang, but rather they work for these reptiles, but how is that possible? Aren't they xenophobic? And the lizards are eating people, so I really don't see how that's possible. I quickly packed up and went back to my lab, I had a good jetpack, even though I'm still far away from the Hulk's jumps, but it's a useful thing, so I should think about upgrading this toy. Having unloaded all the packages near my workshop, I left the gut of the mechanical monster and started checking all the calculations for armour reinforcement. Remembering that my armour will become 'a little bit' more massive and heavy, I also did not forget about antigraves, so that not to go too deep down when landing, and the power of the jetpack should also be increased.

Now I have enough energy and I don't have to worry about such monstrous losses while running the experimental technology. Having finished with checking all calculations and calculations, I started to work. Having first of all installed additional power sources, and then having made diagnostics of all systems, I started to put protection on them, because in case of detonation of something so powerful, not many people will feel bad. So protection and again protection. Having finished with welding and having checked this construction for reliability, I was satisfied with it, the main thing is that in the light variant of armour the energy sources are still well protected, and in the heavy variant they will be covered by the main armour, so the main thing is not to get under something large-caliber and everything will be OK, or as the locals say?

Smiling, I started to slowly install the last generator, but for the needs of my 'basement', because who knows when and how much energy will be needed for the next experiment or project? Having switched off the electricity, I started working with a headlamp, remembering my student years and months of free internship, where we were taught precious experience and knowledge.

However, I never went to work in my speciality, but who doesn't?

Having unpacked the tank armour, I curiously studied the massive elements of protection, which ideally should make my suit almost unkillable. However, the price of such protection is a significant reduction in manoeuvrability. However, I have antigravs and a jetpack for that, and I have enough energy for that now, so it's not such a problem. It might be worth upgrading the servos and synthetic muscles, but I'm already upgrading all the systems with enviable regularity, so we'll see how it goes.

On the other hand, in such 'lats' I will really become a 'knight' and it will be possible to bear whole hordes of enemies with ease. The main thing is not to meet guys with rpg that like to shoot from the corner or this meeting can be fatal. However, I won't always need heavy armour, will I? So I guess I left the modular system in for the sake of versatility. I was still enjoying the upbeat music from my punk rock playlist while I was installing the new armour elements.

Soon I was done with the monotonous work and proudly contemplated my mechanical beast. Humming and pensively walking next to the armour, I shook my head and immediately decided to repaint my brainchild in a radical black colour, not forgetting about the branded spider, which served as a sign of quality and my branding of the master. Even though I only refinished the Rhino armour, but I put all of myself into this project, so such a custom can be considered to be authorial in its own way, so these lats deserve the master's branding.

After a while, my heavy armour was adorned with a silver spider, which predatorily braided the whole body. I didn't think it would be so stylish. Humming again, I began to meticulously examine the end result of my work. Finishing the inspection and turning off the music, I began to remove unnecessary boxes of armour and all other parcels, finishing with the cleaning of my basement, I began the leisurely fitting of the protective helmet. With the interface connected and synchronised, it was time for more precise calibration. Soon I was free, and the compactly folded helmet had already taken its rightful place in my bag. Finally, I could change this tiresome balaclava for something more interesting.

Using the free time for testing the power systems and checking their peak power, I comfortably settled down in the chair at the main computer and drank an invigorating coffee. When I was done with the diagnostics, I switched on the news again, wanting to know what was going on in the city and beyond. Thoughtfully flicking through the channels in search of something interesting, or at least a pleasant presenter, I suddenly came across a summary of economic news and stock prices of world corporations.

- Stark Industries' stock has fallen to a ten-year high, Ozcorp and T I L are actively buying up rapidly depreciating stakes in the recent weapons giant. - a pretty blonde woman sternly announcing all the latest news from the economic battlefields. - But is it a wise investment? After all, it is not yet known whether Stark's company will recover from the recent scandal and lost court case with Ozcorp and T I L. Or is it just a cunning move to eliminate an old rival and competitor in the arms market? - The girl said with a challenging look in her eyes.

Switching the channel, I immediately came across an advert for an upcoming exhibition.

- The most epochal cultural event of this year. An exhibition of our generation's most notable contemporaries. All this and more in an exclusive exhibition at the Wilson Fisk Gallery. - was being blasted by an obviously paid fashion presenter. - Vanessa Marianne is the main curator of the project and promises an exhibition of work by a host of internationally renowned artists and creatives. All money raised will go to charity in Hell's Kitchen, where Wilson Fisk is from. After all, only a man with a big heart could donate millions of dollars to his home neighbourhood charity year after year. Wilson Fisk is a philanthropist, a businessman and a glorious son of Hell's Kitchen... - the presenter was still fervently broadcasting, literally turning a banal gallery advert into a real election campaign.

Is this Fisk really going to run for office? Although with this approach, one could expect anything from this 'philanthropist' and who the hell knows who else. Having switched off the news, I finished my coffee in peace. But Carrot-top had already invited me to the exhibition right in the lair of this 'philanthropist' and art connoisseur. With such people one should keep one's ear to the ground, and one should think about the costume. I need something good and tasteful, so as not to make a nuisance of myself. A moment later, my thoughts were interrupted by the familiar ringtone of my phone; I should probably change it to something nicer if I had to.

- Parker? I finally got you on the phone. - I heard the vaguely familiar voice of a pretty blonde. - Do not want to participate in my project on neogenetics with the study of arachnids? - Gwen Stacy said with an undisguised fire.