Hearing Flash's words, Garfield—seated nearby—also noticed Maguire.
Maguire, however, was watching Flash with a look of amused disbelief.
That expression only stoked Flash's temper.
"Peter, what are you laughing at? You think I'm funny?"
"You put on a black suit and think you're some kind of mob boss?"
Maguire stood up slowly, smiling.
"Cutie, you're right—I *do* think you're funny. Got a problem with that?"
The sharp provocation made Mary Jane inwardly smirk.
*Hmph, that's what you get for ignoring me earlier. Let's see you get flattened by Flash.*
Sure, Maguire had lifted her drunken father like a ragdoll that morning, but she still believed her basketball-team-captain boyfriend was stronger.
Garfield, on the other hand, felt an odd, almost dangerous sensation creeping over him—unaware that it was actually his Spider-Sense.
Flash, fuming, threw a punch straight at Maguire's face.
But in Maguire's eyes, the attack moved in slow motion.
Before the fist could even graze him, a large hand shot out and clamped down on Flash's arm—Maguire's hand.
Garfield's eyes widened.
*That speed… I thought I'd gotten faster, but he's on a whole other level.*
*He's changed too. I need to talk to him later, figure out what's going on.*
Maguire smirked at his captive.
"Honestly, I feel bad for you—a total tool. Why do you keep picking fights with people you can't handle?"
His words were mocking, but his grip was merciless.
The raw, inhuman strength twisted Flash's arm until his face contorted in pain.
Flash's scream rang out—ignored completely by Maguire.
With a smooth turn, Maguire slammed him down onto the cafeteria table—face-first into his lunch tray.
Mary Jane hurried over, her eyes full of feigned pity.
"Peter, please let him go. I'm begging you."
She even clung to his arm, playing the damsel perfectly.
If this were the old Peter Parker, the act might've worked.
Too bad—this was Bully Maguire.
With a small push, he shoved Mary Jane aside.
Then, brows knitting, he flicked his wrist and produced a cigar.
The routine was almost ceremonial now—light, inhale, exhale.
He fixed Mary Jane with a cold glare.
"You beg me and I let him go? Who do you think you are?"
"You tell me to let him go, and I do it? That'd make me lose face."
"Where were you when he came to start trouble with me?"
"You b\*\*\*\*—get lost."
Mary Jane's eyes filled with shock.
*Peter… talking to me like this? So scary.*
*Didn't he like me? Didn't he always sneak glances at me? Was that all fake?*
Stunned, she stood frozen.
Garfield, however, found the scene oddly satisfying.
*Exactly. Mary Jane's no saint. She didn't stop Flash before, but now she wants to stop Peter?*
*If I'd known, I would've decked Flash myself.*
Maguire turned back to the pinned Flash.
"I asked you if I think you're funny—do you have a problem with that?"
Flash's rage flared, but his bravado faltered under the pressure.
"You little—ahhh!"
Maguire tightened his grip just enough to cut him off, then released slightly.
"I'm asking you one last time—do you have a problem with me saying you're funny?"
Flash's defiance crumbled.
"No problem! No problem at all—I'm hilarious."
Maguire gave a satisfied smirk.
The ash on his cigar trembled, then fell—landing perfectly in Flash's eye.
…
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