As Peter was running, his Spider-Sense suddenly went off, but in his confused state, he didn't have time to dodge.
A gold and red armored suit quickly rushed towards him, wrapped around his waist, and then carried him forward at high speed for a distance before throwing Peter to the ground.
Peter was thoroughly shaken from the fall.
The beautiful gold and red armored suit hovered in mid-air.
Spider-Man was quite rattled.
He took off his mask, and a voice came from the armored suit opposite him: "That guy was right, he really is just a high school kid..."
Peter angrily punched the ground.
He said, "I'm not a kid, I'm Spider-Man!"
Stark on the other side let out a disdainful snort and said, "Spider-Man? Yeah, you've got a great reputation among the gamblers in Hell's Kitchen.
The only good thing you've done is help those people win a lot of money."
Peter's anger almost reached the sky.
This strange robot had attacked him right away, thrown him to the ground, and even mocked him.
Peter furiously lunged forward.
Iron Man's armored suit arced gracefully through the air, dodging the attack.
Little Spider currently had no fighting skills, had never fought a robot, and didn't understand tactical route calculations, so he was naturally helpless against the Mark 5, which was equipped with Jarvis.
Spider-Man roared, "You damned robot, I'll show you what I can do!"
Iron Man's armored suit landed.
He said, "Oh, really? Show me how you defeat those low-level street fighters?"
Stark's words were still very venomous.
Little Spider's face flushed and paled from his mockery.
Finally, Stark seemed to lose interest in talking to Peter, this kid, any further.
He said very coldly:
"Kids who haven't been weaned yet should hurry back home.
New York isn't your playground to jump around in.
Don't think that just because you're a little different from others, you can run wild in the sky over this City.
Someone is already watching you."
Stark had no good feelings for the current Little Spider, especially after learning that he had superhuman abilities but only used them to fight in underground boxing rings.
In his opinion, this was a very foolish act.
Stark had his own pride.
Although he was somewhat arrogant, stubborn, and sensitive, after experiencing the life-or-Death crisis of being kidnapped, the true Iron Man had awakened.
Therefore, he greatly looked down on Peter, who was still just messing around.
Peter stood up and angrily threw his mask to the ground.
He said, "You say I'm running wild in New York, but aren't you doing the same?!"
His rationality returned somewhat, so he said to Stark, "Yeah, you're wearing this armored suit.
I can tell this can't be cheap stuff.
You have money to play with this."
"But what about me?
My Uncle and Aunt are not in good health.
They can't even afford the medical expenses for check-ups.
I really need money, so why can't I go to the boxing ring to fight?
I haven't used this ability to harm others!"
Stark crossed his arms and said, "Have you ever thought that having this ability but not saving others is, in itself, harming others?"
Peter showed an absurd expression.
He shook his head from side to side, seemingly unable to believe how the person opposite him could say such ridiculous things.
He said, "It's an ability I gained myself.
I can do whatever I want with it.
It's my ability.
Why can't I use it to do more for myself, instead of having to help others?"
The current Peter had not experienced Ben Parker's Death.
He did not yet understand the meaning of the phrase "with great power comes great responsibility."
So he now righteously believed that since he had this ability, he should naturally seek more benefits for himself.
It could only be said that his thoughts were not wrong; everyone lives for themselves.
But Spider-Man was ultimately destined to walk the path of a Super Hero.
Peter's inherent kindness and resilience would gradually be stimulated as he grew older.
He was destined to become a Super Hero.
As for Stark, although he was arrogant and haughty, he always had the idea of taking responsibility for the common people, believing that as a Super genius, protecting ordinary people and Earth was his inherent responsibility.
Stark could also see at this moment that Peter was abnormally agitated; he had probably just experienced some kind of shock.
So he said, "I know you have a lot of questions you can't figure out right now.
I used to be the same.
But some things you have to experience firsthand to understand.
This is not something any grand reason I tell you can compare to.
I can only tell you that if you continue to hold onto such thoughts, one day you will regret it."
After speaking, Stark's armored suit flew away, leaving Peter sitting there, dejected and lost.
He really didn't understand why everyone was against him, as if he was a born bad seed.
Peter didn't understand how, after gaining superpowers, he seemed to be more miserable than before.
He earned money, but didn't dare to give it directly to Uncle Ben because he stayed out at night, didn't sleep well, and his academic performance also declined.
And in the initial excitement of gaining his powers, he also ignored Gwen's feelings, and now Gwen was also giving him the silent treatment.
He wanted to beat up his arch-nemesis Thompson, but he didn't dare to fight in school, so he could only swallow his anger.
This damned superpower hadn't really brought him any great benefits; it hadn't made him turn his life around overnight and live the privileged life he wanted.
He didn't understand where the problem truly lay.
Blowing in the cold New York night wind, Spider-Man sat on the rooftop of a Hell's Kitchen building, constantly thinking.
Just then, his extraordinary hearing allowed him to hear a whispered conversation coming from the alley behind the building.
It was the back door of a nightclub, where two burly bodyguards usually stood.
Peter could see them from his angle, but they couldn't see Peter.
Peter saw a bald man in a jacket, seemingly talking to his subordinates.
Peter's vision and hearing were far beyond ordinary people's.
He saw a target-like circular Mark on the bald man's forehead.
He heard the bald man say:
"...As long as we floor the gas before he reacts, you know, Andre has a good car; he modified it, and it accelerates much faster than a regular car."
"As long as we stay still at first, so he doesn't hear us, and then hit him the moment he turns the corner, he's dead."
His subordinate said, "I know a good intersection at the end of Mary Street.
There are some construction waste piles there, and the smell of car oil can also be covered up..."
The bald man revealed an evil smile and said, "We have to get rid of him before that woman does, so Kingpin Boss will know who his most capable subordinate is..."
Peter listened to them talking on the roof, off and on.
He learned from their conversation that they seemed to be planning to run someone over with a car.
But Peter, who had just been lectured repeatedly, thought rebelliously, what did this have to do with him?
It was just a gang conflict.
One gang member wanted to kill another gang member; why should he care?
Anyway, there were no good people in this damned Hell's Kitchen.
Thinking this, Peter slowly walked back.
It was already very late.
He had told Uncle Ben that he wouldn't be coming home tonight, so he returned to Nightcrawler's small room.
Nightcrawler was still sleeping soundly.
Peter thought, maybe what he had just thought wasn't entirely correct.
There was still one good person in this Hell's Kitchen, and that was his friend in front of him, and he was a little too good.
Peter looked at the wound on his lower leg, which was still bleeding slightly, while the bruises Peter had gotten from Iron Man throwing him had completely healed.
Peter suddenly felt a bit absurd.
Nightcrawler was truly just an ordinary person; he didn't have the same self-healing ability as him.
That's why he meddled and got himself into such a miserable state.
He wanted to learn Nightcrawler's martial arts, but he didn't want to learn his way of dealing with people at all.
Just now, when he heard that group of gangsters talking, if he had angrily rushed down to uphold justice and tell them not to commit murder, then he wouldn't have had any peace tonight.
There must have been at least a dozen bodyguards in the nightclub; he would have to beat them all down one by one.
That bald man might even be extra tough to beat.
With so many people, if he accidentally took a hit, it would hurt for a while.
And the result would probably just be preventing a gang fight.
But what kind of good deed was that?
There were no innocent people in Hell's Kitchen; only other gang members would be caught in the crossfire.
Peter thought, why should he spend a whole night, risking injury, to meddle in such affairs?
Thinking this, Peter slowly fell into a dream.
In his dream, he made a fortune with his abilities, bought a house on the busiest street in Queens, and Uncle Ben and Aunt May both moved into the new big house.
They even hired a private Doctor, Uncle Ben's illness was cured, and Aunt May seemed to have gotten ten years younger.
Their family lived a very wealthy and happy life.
The first half of this dream was very beautiful, but perhaps because Peter heard Nightcrawler's somewhat painful groans in the night, the latter half of the dream took a sharp turn for the worse.
When Peter went out, a thug broke into his beautiful big house.
The thugs killed his Uncle and Aunt and ransacked all their belongings.
Their neighbors all saw the thugs, but not a single person called the Police.
When the Police arrived, they couldn't immediately catch the murderers.
Peter became a lonely wandering spirit, drifting through the City every day, trying to find the murderer who shattered his perfect life, but there were no clues.
Finally, in his dream, Nightcrawler appeared.
Peter questioned Nightcrawler, asking why he had stopped so many criminals but missed those few thugs.
And Nightcrawler coldly told him:
"The only one who can take full responsibility for this is probably yourself."
Peter woke up in a cold sweat.
New York was just dawning.
Cold air seeped in through the window cracks, entering his lungs, making him feel like crying.
Nightcrawler also woke up.
Peter poured him some Water.
Nightcrawler said, "Thank you, but I might have to trouble you again later to go to the clinic at the end of Mary Street and get some medicine for me."
