The walk back from the diner felt different. Every time my sneakers hit the pavement, I felt a strange, heavy vibration traveling up my legs. It wasn't just fat or water weight; it felt like my bones were being replaced with high-density rebar.
"Maybe I should head over to your place sometime for some... uh, 'tutoring,' Pete," I said, eyeing Peter Parker as we walked toward the subway. "I bet Aunt May wouldn't mind a guest for dinner, right? I heard her wheat cakes are legendary."
Peter looked up at me, and for a split second, I saw his pupils dilate. He physically shuddered, instinctively shifting his backpack to create a barrier between us. He didn't even know why he was doing it—his Spider-Sense was probably screaming that he was walking next to a ticking tectonic plate.
"U-uh, yeah, sure, Alex," Peter stammered, adjusting his glasses nervously. "Aunt May loves guests. Just... maybe give me a heads-up? Our fridge isn't exactly... industrial-sized."
We split up at the corner of 57th. I watched Harry disappear into the tinted windows of his black towncar and Peter vanish into the subway stairs. Then, I began the long, grueling trek back to my "residence."
Calling it an apartment was a crime against architecture. It was a coffin. A single, cramped room in a building that smelled like damp cardboard and despair. It was so small I could touch both walls if I sneezed too hard. My "bed" was a thin mattress on the floor, and the only window looked out onto a brick wall stained with decades of soot. I was so broke I was basically one step away from living in a cardboard box, but hey—at least I had a door. Even if the lock was held together by a prayer and some duct tape.
I collapsed onto the mattress, the springs groaning under my new, denser weight. I stared at the peeling wallpaper, my mind spinning. Stark Industries, I thought. The stocks are going to plummet the second Tony goes missing in the desert. It's the ultimate 'get rich' cheat code. But as I looked at my empty wallet, a bitter laugh escaped my throat. I couldn't even afford a breakfast burrito, let alone a single share of a billion-dollar tech giant.
I need a job. Maybe I can work at the Daily Bugle? Or find a way to make Parker's web-fluid and sell it? Damn, ROB... if you're gonna send me here, at least give me some enhanced intellect or a business system! Being a brick is hard work!
[Yo, Alex. I'm actually loving the direction of the entire story.]
The voice vibrated inside my skull like a subwoofer. The room didn't change, but the air felt charged, like a thunderstorm was about to break inside my four walls.
"ROB? You're actually listening?" I sat up, looking around the empty room. "Look, man, I'm starving. If I want a job, I need one that pays. Is the pay high enough to buy Stark shares?"
[Yeah, it is,] ROB's voice sounded amused. [If you want a job, I can give you one. Consider it a side-quest.]
"Okay, sign me up," I said without hesitation. "What's the gig? Security? Bounty hunting?"
[Simple. Take down Wilson Fisk. Destroy Kingpin's entire reign in New York. You have exactly one month. Better get to work, kid.]
I choked on my own spit. "Kingpin?! The guy who crushes skulls for breakfast? I don't even have enough cash for my own breakfast, ROB! How am I supposed to take down a crime lord while my stomach is eating itself?"
[Ooh, for that? I'll send you a daily allowance. A stipend for my favorite entertainment. Consider it a 'monster-maintenance' fee.]
My eyes widened. "Thanks, ROB. You're officially the nicest ROB in the history of all the shitty ROBS I've read about."
[Don't sweat it, kid. It's just an investment.]
"Wait a sec," I realized, the Otaku in me taking over. "Arent I supposed to have three wishes? That's the standard! All those other guys get to spin a wheel, or pick a secondary power, or get a waifu-magnet system! Where's mine?"
[DONT PUSH IT, KID! NOW SHOO! My wife is calling me for dinner!]
The presence vanished instantly, leaving the room feeling cold and quiet. Apparently, even cosmic beings have to deal with the "honey-do" list.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of birds. And by birds, I meant my neighbor's lawnmower screaming like a banshee at 6:00 AM.
"Ugh... late..." I scrambled out of bed, realizing I had slept through my alarm. I rushed into the tiny bathroom, splashing water on my face. As I pulled on my worn-out jeans and a t-shirt, I stopped. I looked in the mirror and started flexing. Damn. My chest was broader, and actual, corded muscle was starting to ripple under my skin. I was starting to look like an actual fighter.
I did a quick "warm-up"—10 pushups, a 200m dash to the end of the block and back, 20 jumping jacks, and an abdominal press. By the end, I was huffing like a steam engine. I was still weak—laughably weak for a Doomsday—but the growth was real.
I grabbed my bag and bolted for school. I used the very first "stipend" from ROB to buy enough breakfast to feed a small family, inhaling it before I even reached the gates.
I spotted Peter arriving, looking like he'd stayed up all night. He was hauling a load of textbooks and homework for submission. Wait... homework?
"The fuck... why didn't anyone tell me about the goddamn homework?" I groaned, catching up to him.
"Hi, Alex," Peter said, looking exhausted.
"Pete, bro... tell me you have good news. Did you do your homework?"
"Yeah, I did. What's up? You didn't do yours?" Peter let out a little laugh, shaking his head.
"Haha... yeah. As a brother to me, Pete, you should know I was tired yesterday. My brain was fried from... you know, the 'medical emergency.' Maybe you could borrow me your notes for a bit? Just for first period?"
"No can do, Alex," Peter said, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"But why?! Just help a dude out for once, Pete!"
Peter sighed, finally reaching into his bag. "You definitely are something else, Alex. But don't worry... I did yours for you. I figured you'd be too out of it to remember. It's in the folder."
I grabbed the folder like it was the Holy Grail. "Phew! Thanks, Pete! You truly are a life-saver, man. I owe you one."
"Yeah, I know," Peter laughed, walking into the building. "Just try not to get into any more fights today, okay?"
I followed him, glancing toward the teacher's desk where Gwen Stacy was already sitting, looking perfect as usual. I had the homework, I had a daily allowance, and I had a month to kill a Kingpin.
Life is getting interesting, I thought, a predatory grin touching my lips.