"Sorry, sorry, I really didn't mean to."
Spider-Man muttered, seemingly remorseful about the killing, his action of rubbing the back of his head making him look like a child who had done something wrong.
The remaining researchers and security personnel in the room, however, had no time to notice Spider-Man's awkwardness at the moment, all staring with wide eyes, looking incredulous.
Everything happened too fast just now, so fast that the retina couldn't transmit images, so fast that nerve endings couldn't tremble.
One second ago, the Dr., the absolute master of the laboratory, who even breathed with authority, was standing there, like an unshakeable mountain.
The next second, he had become a shattered work of art embedded in the wall, scarlet liquid slowly dripping along the spiderweb-like wall, making a terrifying "drip, drip" sound in the silent room.
And the one who did it was Spider-Man.
—The good neighbor in the mouths of New York City citizens, the friendly hero who replaced fists with witty remarks and bullets with webs.
At this moment, he was crawling on the wall like a spider, a flimsy white bedsheet comically wrapped around his waist, his bare upper body still showing the lean physique of youth.
The strong visual impact and the brutal scene full of primitive violent aesthetics he had just caused formed a crazy paradox.
The cold light in the laboratory illuminated the dust still suspended in the air, and also illuminated the frozen expressions on the faces of the survivors. The researchers in white coats had their mouths wide open, like fish out of Water, their brains trying to process the information before them, but only getting a string of garbled code.
Doubt, fear, and a hint of absurd disbelief.
Their gaze frantically switched between the "bloody mural" on the wall and the bedsheet-clad hero, their CPUs almost burning out.
Spider-Man doesn't kill? Then what is this before their eyes? A nightmare that's too realistic?
"Hey! Earth to...well, everybody in this fancy murder-lab!"
Leaping down from the wall, Peter Parker's voice broke the deathly silence. He sounded like a college student who had just woken up, even with a slight morning hoarseness.
He spread his hands, making a very innocent "I didn't do anything" gesture. The bedsheet tied around his waist almost slipped with his movement, scaring him into hastily grabbing it again, looking very comical.
But at this moment, no one dared to utter a single taunt.
"I know summer sales, 'streaking discounts' sound tempting, but personally, I still prefer the security and fashion that fabric brings." Spider-Man looked around, his gaze sweeping over the pale faces.
"So, has anyone seen my suit? Red and Blue, tight-fitting, with a cool big spider on the chest—should be hard to miss."
He walked barefoot on the cold floor towards the crowd. Wherever he went, those not bound by webs subconsciously retreated like Moses parting the sea, lowering their heads, not daring to meet the gaze of this humorous Little Spider.
They were as docile as sheep seeing a pack of wolves, fear making sweat beads roll down their foreheads, hitting the ground, almost audibly.
"Oh, I need to find my clothes quickly." Peter said to himself, as if he didn't see everyone's fear, "Your welcoming committee here is a bit too 'enthusiastic.' My Spider-Sense is screaming from left to right, giving me a headache."
His gaze locked onto a security guard of similar build to him, his eyes suddenly lighting up.
"Wow! Bro, this tactical gear is not bad! Low-key Gray, practical multi-functional pockets. Although it can't compare to the natural artistry of my suit, it's definitely a fine piece." Peter walked up to him, smiling brightly, "How about we make a deal? Can I borrow it for a bit? I guarantee, on Spider-Man's good credit, I'll return it exactly as it was once I find my own clothes!"
The security guard's Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes uncontrollably glancing at the gradually cooling corpse on the wall. The Dr.'s unseeing eyes were facing exactly in that direction. He abruptly turned his head back, nodding frantically at Peter, so fast that one worried his neck would snap.
"Awesome! I knew the kind Captain America wasn't an isolated case!" Peter happily patted his shoulder, then very naturally removed the other's pistol, tactical dagger, magazines, and even pulled out two grenades from the side pocket of his thigh, "I'll hold onto these dangerous toys for you. Don't worry, I'm very careful with them."
He quickly took off the other's tactical vest and uniform pants and put them on himself. Although they were empty inside, he instantly looked much more energetic.
Perhaps after his memory recovered, there was always a certain melody in his head. He shook his head, his shoulders twitching to the rhythm of non-existent music, snapped his fingers, and executed a few smooth dance steps.
"Wow! Look at that moves! I actually have this talent? It must be this new outfit that inspired me! So cool!"
Meanwhile, the security guard, stripped down to only his boxer briefs, could only cover his private parts with both hands, trembling under the sympathetic (and relieved it wasn't them) gazes of his companions.
Another security guard, being very sensible, gently placed all his weapons on the ground and raised his hands.
"Mr. Spider-Man, I know where your suit is."
As a trembling female voice with a heavy accent sounded, the Mexican woman who had been observing Spider-Man for a long time in the crowd stepped forward. Her face was sickly pale, but her eyes held a desperate resolve.
Peter, who was in a good mood because he had borrowed clothes, didn't expect a kind person to offer a lead on his suit so quickly. His gaze shifted as he said, "Aha! Finally, a lady is willing to offer a lead on my suit—"
Before he could finish, Gabriela's legs bent, and with a "thud," she heavily knelt to the ground, tears instantly overflowing.
"I know you're a kind hero! Please! Save those children!" Her voice choked, almost incoherent, "They are cloned... Mutant children... right here in this laboratory! If they're not saved soon... they'll be disposed of! Please!"
"Whoa! Nonono! Lady! Get up!" Peter reacted as if he'd been burned, nimbly backflipping to hang upside down from the ceiling, perfectly avoiding this "grand gesture." "Let's talk this out, no need for such a big bow! My uncle always said... um... with great power comes great territory... bah!" He slapped his mouth, muttering, "Damn parallel Universe memory... it's great responsibility!"
He swung down and carefully helped Gabriela up, looking into her tear-filled but incredibly sincere eyes. They held only the plea of a desperate mother, without any malice.
"Alright, alright, since a group of children are in danger..." Peter sighed, ran a hand through his hair, "Of course I'll help. This is... responsibility."
"I thank you on behalf of the children! Spider-Man! You really are a good person!" Gabriela cried tears of joy, vigorously wiping her eyes, the light of hope once again illuminating her face.
"Women's moods change faster than flipping a book..." Peter muttered under his breath, inexplicably thinking of Gwen. He rubbed the back of his head, tilting it, "Women? Wait... did I forget something important?"
He couldn't recall it for now, but rescuing the children took priority.
"Your name is?" He pointed at Gabriela, who had calmed down slightly.
"Gabriela Lopez, I'm a Nurse. You can call me Gabriela, Mr. Spider-Man."
"Gabriela, such a familiar name."
Mutant children, Gabriela Lopez, a Mutant research Base—this made it hard for Peter not to think of a Marvel movie—Logan.
"Mr. Spider-Man, your suit is in the storage room at the end of the right corridor! The children are also held nearby! I'll take you there!"
Peter nodded, his gaze once again sweeping over the silent, awe-struck people in the room.
"Alright, folks, party's over for you." He made his classic hand gesture, "Now it's duo activity time."
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
White Silk shot out precisely, sticking researchers and security personnel one by one off the ground, hanging them upside down from the ceiling, like some kind of postmodern decorative art.
"Sorry, everyone, bear with it for a bit, I'll be back as soon as possible—oh, and you, kind Mr. Loan-a-Shirt," Peter said to the security guard who was only in his underwear, "I remember your clothes, first, use a Silk-brand custom sweater to keep warm!"
More Silk sprayed out, wrapping the man into a White cocoon, leaving only his nose for breathing and a pair of eyes filled with "no desire to live."
The piercing alarm continued to blare as Peter and Gabriela rushed out of the room and into the cold metal corridor.
Thwip! Thwip!
Peter moved quickly, simultaneously raising his hand to shoot out strands of Silk, precisely covering every surveillance camera at every corner.
"Gabriela, those children... and this place, what's their story?" Peter asked during a lull in the alarm.
Gabriela didn't hide anything, quickly saying, "This is Alkali Genetic Research Institute! They... they clone children using Mutant genes for experiments! The leading girl is named Laura Kinney, and there are X-23, X-24..."
Alkali? Laura Kinney? X-24?
Peter's steps paused slightly, his eyes widening under the mask.
"Wow... is this really the plot of Logan?" He murmured to himself, a strange sense of destiny seizing him, "So I wasn't simply kidnapped and became a Mutant in someone else's eyes, but because I have to go save a group of cloned Mutant children? This is... too crazy, but also too cool!"
Whoosh—!
A sharp whooshing sound came from the right passage! Spider-Sense instantly surged through his entire body like high-voltage electricity!
"Watch out!" Peter roared!
Time seemed to stretch infinitely! He sharply turned his head, a military grenade spinning past his mask, heading straight for Gabriela's face! In the split second the grenade was only two millimeters from her eyeball, Peter flicked his wrist!
Whoosh!
A strand of Silk precisely stuck to the grenade, and with immense stickiness and pulling force, flung it back the way it came at an even faster speed!
Boom—!!!!
A deafening explosion! The right passage was instantly engulfed in Fire and smoke! Screams and the sound of flesh hitting walls were drowned out by the roar of the explosion!
Peter didn't even turn to look at the gruesome scene of the explosion, pulling the shaken, almost collapsed Gabriela forward. His heart was unusually calm, as if he had just flicked away a fly.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If you want to kill me, you must be prepared to be killed.
This logic was simple, direct, cruel, yet perfectly correct at this moment.
Gabriela secretly observed the young man beside her from the corner of her eye. He was tall and well-built, and even in ill-fitting tactical gear, his handsome features were hard to conceal, especially those clear Blue eyes that seemed to be felt even through his mask. But his counterattack just now was chillingly ruthless. Was he really the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man from the newspapers, who always joked around and tied up criminals like dumplings for the Police?