Getting Aunt May to leave was simple enough.
As soon as she stepped inside, Herman casually swept the photos off his desk before she could notice anything unusual.
"Get some ingredients ready downstairs—we're having Italian tonight."
Thanks to his [Genius Chef] identity, Herman had mastered top-tier culinary skills across countless cuisines.
Not just Chinese dishes—any meal he'd ever tasted, he could flawlessly recreate in his own kitchen. When it came to pure enjoyment, sometimes a Bronze-tier identity really was the best of all.
"Italian food's my favorite! Boss, I love you!"
Aunt May's eyes lit up instantly. She set the safe down with a delighted grin and left the office without suspicion, cheerfully heading downstairs.
"Hmph."
Of course, Herman knew Italian food was her favorite. That's exactly why he'd used it as an excuse to send her away. He knew every employee in his company like the back of his hand.
"Spider Woman, huh?" After Aunt May left, Herman pulled out Peter Parker's stack of photos again—there was no way this was one of Spidey's pranks.
In the few available side-angle shots, he could clearly see the "Spider Woman's" chest. His years of experience—both before and after transmigration—let him judge with confidence that what he saw was a pair of D-cups tightly bound by some kind of restraint.
"Probably wrapped with compression cloth," he muttered.
Real assets and artificial ones were worlds apart—even restrained, the difference was obvious. Which meant these photos couldn't possibly be Peter Parker cross-dressing for selfies. Besides, the Spider-Man in the photos was noticeably smaller than Peter.
Unless Peter had somehow learned bone-shrinking kung fu, there was no way his body shape could change that much. And those smooth, curving lines… there was no faking that. Masked or not, Herman trusted his "instincts" completely.
"I'll need to confirm whether it's really Spider-Gwen."
He wasn't sure whether this was connected to the [All-Seeing Eye], or if Marvel's universe had simply changed since his transmigration.
Either way, in Herman's memories, Spider-Gwen's story definitely didn't feature a Peter Parker who was into that skinny, dark-skinned girl.
Yes—
Although Herman had been training himself not to pry into others' thoughts, Peter's surface memories had been far too vivid when Herman asked about his crush earlier.
He had "accidentally" glimpsed that the girl Peter liked was a skinny, dark-skinned girl named Michelle Jones.
MJ, for short.
Herman couldn't help but think Peter's taste was like Quicksilver's thing for women with darker skin.
Quicksilver preferred curvy ones. But the girl Peter liked? In Herman's eyes, she was practically as flat as a boy.
"Well, to each his own," he muttered, unconcerned about Peter's preferences. What interested him was whether the Spider Woman really was Gwen.
In the Spider-Gwen story he knew, she existed in a parallel universe called Earth-65. Gwen Stacy, bitten by a radioactive spider, became the superhero known as "Spider-Woman."
In her normal life, Gwen was a young musician who played in a band. Not long after she began fighting crime, one of her classmates—Peter Parker—tried to take revenge on his bullies. Injecting himself with a homemade serum, he turned into the Lizard of that world.
In the parallel universe Earth-65, that Peter Parker's fate was tragic. His death became the turning point that taught Spider-Gwen the meaning of "with great power comes great responsibility."
Of course, in Herman's current universe, Peter hadn't become the Lizard. He'd become another Spider-Man instead, with powers identical to hers.
And Gwen and Peter had never even been classmates. The differences were major, which was why Herman couldn't be sure if that Spider Woman truly was Gwen.
"I'll just confirm it myself—it won't take long."
He made up his mind. Black ravens began to circle him, and in the next instant, he vanished from the office.
Night had quietly settled over the city.
Gwen Stacy's family, part of New York's middle class with significant influence in the police department, lived in a detached townhouse.
Though modest compared to Herman's own mansions, their home was still located in one of New York's wealthier neighborhoods.
As darkness deepened, George Stacy—commissioner of the NYPD—returned home. The family gathered for a modest but hearty dinner, complete with both meat and fish.
Compared to those who could only afford fried chicken and burgers, the Stacys' dinner table even featured freshly sliced sun oranges for everyone.
It was clear Gwen's mother understood nutrition well—a poised, elegant woman in her forties who still carried a graceful charm that time hadn't dimmed.
"Gwen! Go take a walk after dinner! If you keep this up, you'll turn into a fatty sooner or later!"
Gwen's mother called out as she cleared the table, her tone half-scolding, half-playful. Gwen herself was the picture of lively cuteness.
"Got it! I'll do ten push-ups when I get to my room!" Gwen Stacy made a funny face at her mother, then darted up the stairs with quick, rhythmic steps.
"Girls who build muscles won't have any boys chasing after them," George Stacy, the police chief, teased from the living room. At home, he was far more easygoing than his title suggested.
Lounging on the sofa, watching the evening news, he called toward the staircase, his tone full of humor.
"I don't need boys chasing me! I already have someone I admire!"
Like every teenage girl, Gwen was going through her idol-worship phase.
The difference was, her idol wasn't a pop star or a movie heartthrob.
Gwen, a cheerful girl who loved playing in her band, admired someone very different—someone powerful, someone heroic.
"The Belarus incident must've been Homelander's doing! Someone posted photos on the forum! He saved Earth from the aliens again!"
Back in her bedroom, Gwen Stacy was browsing an underground fan forum, her eyes bright as she scrolled through the so-called "True Reports" section.
Her voice brimmed with awe and excitement. Yes—Gwen Stacy's idol wasn't the Spider-Man who swung across the city.
To her, the one truly protecting Earth and handling greater cosmic crises was Homelander.
Her bedroom walls were covered with photos of Herman.
Right above her bed hung a striking image—the promotional poster Herman had designed for The Boys: him in a flowing cape, floating in space, arms outstretched as if to embrace the planet below. His face was partially obscured to avoid censorship, and the pose—admittedly—was one of his signature "borrowed" tricks.
In The Boys, the Homelander couldn't actually survive in space. But in this Marvel universe, nobody questioned the image's realism. Fans like Gwen even secretly filled in the blanks with their own fantasies.
To them, Herman Chu—Homelander—wasn't just a fictional hero.
He was the real guardian of Earth.
That was why such a poster existed at all—after all, fans often said The Boys was practically Herman's autobiography.
It was that very image that had captured Gwen Stacy's heart, sparking her obsession and turning Herman into her teenage idol.
"If I train hard enough, maybe one day I can fight alongside him!"
For a devoted fan, the dream of standing beside one's hero was the greatest motivation imaginable.
After scrolling through every new post and rumor about Homelander, Gwen began her nightly "training."
And it wasn't just ten push-ups.
She flipped upside down, hanging from the ceiling, exercising against gravity itself.
"One!"
"Two!"
...
"One thousand!"
Soon, Gwen Stacy broke yesterday's record.
She could feel herself growing stronger with each passing day. For Gwen—who had only recently gained her powers—it was a dreamlike, almost unreal sensation.
"My spider-like abilities should still have plenty of room to improve. I can feel it... Right, maybe that Spider-Man swinging around the city also had a weird dream like mine."
Gwen remembered the night several weeks ago when she'd had an unbelievably strange nightmare. In it, the whole world seemed to be collapsing. She had been running with a crowd of strangers, fleeing from something unknown—until a gigantic white spider appeared and bit her.
When she woke up, she realized she had changed. She now possessed powers that were as incredible as they were unbelievable—just like a spider's.
Not only could she hang upside down and crawl along ceilings, but she also had heightened vision and sharpened senses. Whenever danger approached, every hair on her body would stand on end, warning her in advance.
"I'll call this ability… Gwen's Tingling!" she declared, completely unaware that she had just unknowingly borrowed one of Peter Parker's ideas.
How should she put it? Maybe all spider-bitten heroes think alike.
Gwen knew there was another Spider-Man in the city, though she had no idea who he really was. Based on her own experience, she assumed he must have gained his powers through a dream too.
"In that dream... I think I saw the Homelander." Gwen kept replaying that bizarre nightmare in her mind. Her instincts told her it was no ordinary dream.
"Maybe the Homelander also got his powers from a dream! I wish I could become even stronger—then we could protect Earth together!"
Her face flushed at the thought. Gwen's smooth, milky skin took on a rosy glow, the color of a ripe apple.
"The other Spider-Man's suit doesn't really fit me. I guess cheap stuff online really is cheap. I almost tore it apart this afternoon."
She picked up a fan-made Spider-Man suit she'd bought from the "Spider-Man Support Group." The front of the suit was stretched out, the fabric pulled thin. Honestly, trying to fit a D-sized missile into a flat outfit was asking a lot.
"Ugh, I'm only seventeen. Mom says I'm still growing," Gwen muttered worriedly, glancing down at the two "missiles" in front of her. She could barely even see her feet anymore.
Still growing?
Gwen sighed. That would definitely make fighting alongside her idol a lot more difficult.
"Just a little more, and my very own suit will be done." Gwen Stacy hesitated for a moment, then decided not to wear the same costume as Spider-Man.
She opened her wardrobe and pulled out a small sewing machine, on top of which lay a nearly finished battle suit.
It was a black-and-white design inspired by the white spider from her dream, accented with delicate pink patterns—Gwen's own creative touch.
"I need to let the citizens of New York know! I'm a Spider-Woman!" Gwen said excitedly, her eyes bright as she worked on the sewing machine.
Her hands moved quickly, adding more stylish patterns to the suit. Before long, she completed the finishing touches and couldn't wait to try it on.
Compared to the previous suit—which was so tight it almost hurt—this one was perfectly tailored to her proportions.
Thanks to years of dressing up Barbie dolls as a kid, Gwen had developed some decent sewing skills. She admired her reflection proudly in front of the mirror.
"Homelander will definitely fall in love with me!" she said, her self-satisfaction shining through. Narcissism, after all, was a universal part of adolescence, regardless of gender or looks.
"It's time to patrol the city. Night's when all the creeps and thugs crawl out. They'll all get a proper beating from me, Spider-Woman—no, wait, that sounds terrible. I need something cooler... I, Gwen Stacy, need a name with presence!"
"Ghost-Spider! Yes! From now on, I'll be Ghost-Spider! Way better than Spider-Man's name!" Gwen muttered excitedly as she jumped onto her bedroom windowsill. It seemed that every Spider-person ended up with a bit of a chatterbox streak.
Even her self-talk was lively—Gwen Stacy was definitely no exception.
"Wait for me!"
Crouched on the windowsill, she slipped on her mask and turned back to her teddy bear on the bed, giving it a serious farewell.
The next second, she leapt into the night. Under the moonlight, she thrust out her hand and fired a strand of web, which latched onto a nearby building.
Gwen swung between the city's buildings, graceful and weightless—like a spirit dancing through the night.
"Whoo~"
Each time she started to drop, she fired another webline, pulling herself higher and soaring farther forward.
"Let Ghost-Gwen sense where evil is brewing tonight." Gwen fully focused her senses, extending her hearing and awareness outward.
She could clearly pick up the sounds and movements from nearby streets, catching snatches of conversations from all around the neighborhood.
However...
Perhaps because her sensory range wasn't large enough, the Ghost-Spider gliding through the city had no idea that, far above the clouds, someone was watching her every move.
"So it really is Spider-Gwen."
Herman recognized the familiar suit, confirming the identity of the female spider. Even from the cloud layer, he could see what was happening inside Gwen's home and hear her muttering to herself in her room—and his expression, it had to be said, was quite something.
How to describe it...
The fact that Gwen Stacy's idol had some connection to him was one thing. But more importantly, he had clearly seen the way she shot her webs.
"Web-shooting without any tech? Straight from the wrists? That's just like the Tobey Maguire version of Spider-Man."
Thinking about organic web-shooting inevitably brought up the same question that puzzled countless Marvel fans—if Spider-Man's body could produce webs naturally, could he also... shoot them from somewhere else?
That image—!
Better not to think about it.
Especially when the one shooting webs was a female spider... definitely not suitable for minors. Herman could only silently admit that, well, the possibility wasn't completely impossible.
After all...
Everyone knows that even ordinary people have a pinhole-sized opening between their buttocks. Maybe Spider-Man could use it for some... unconventional techniques.
...
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