"By the way, on a more serious note, I heard there's a kid in New York lately who likes wearing red and blue spandex. Have you heard of him?" Lance asked.
"Me? Of course I know." Stark snapped his fingers. "I have JARVIS. If I want to know something, there's nothing in New York I can't find out."
"That kid… let me think. Right. Jumping all over the city in ridiculous spandex like a flea. I'd say quite a few people have been startled by him recently."
"Oh, right, spandex." Lance joined in the criticism. "I really don't understand why so many vigilantes insist on wearing it. Is it supposed to look good?"
His gaze drifted toward Stark's lower body. Stark reacted instantly, covering himself.
"Hey! What are you looking at?" he snapped. "I'm not one of those idiots who wears spandex."
"Right, you're not." Lance shrugged. "You're just a big kid who likes showing off his toys."
"Hey, hey, hey!" Stark protested. "Weren't we talking about that kid? Why did this turn into a personal attack? I haven't messed with you lately, have I?"
"You have." Lance lifted his coffee. "You just insulted my coffee."
Stark fell silent.
"Your pettiness is impressive."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Lance took another sip, then discreetly spat it out, his expression conflicted.
It really did taste awful.
"Anyway," Stark continued, "I'm planning to teach that kid a lesson. Best case, I throw him back home and make sure he doesn't come out again. He needs to understand that New York isn't his playground."
Lance neither agreed nor disagreed. "Want some intel?"
"Let's hear your price first."
How rare.
For a billionaire like Tony Stark to ask for the price before buying something.
If word got out, every lawyer in New York would start worshipping Lance.
"This intel is very cost-effective. I'm not treating you like a sucker this time. Five hundred dollars."
Lance held out his hand.
"So you admit you've been scamming me before?" Stark said dryly. "As for payment, I'll have Pepper transfer it to your account when I get back."
"Fine." Lance nodded. "I've seen him a few times in Hell's Kitchen. The kid stays on the outskirts, very cautious, but sooner or later he'll come in. Also, I noticed a sky-blue logo on his pants. He's probably from Queens."
"That alone is worth more than five hundred dollars," Stark said dismissively.
"Be patient," Lance went on. "It's obvious he doesn't have the money for proper gear. His family situation isn't good. Judging by his age, he's still in high school. Since he can't afford expensive private schools, he has to attend a public one."
"After asking around, I found that one of the public high schools in Queens is a boarding school. Someone sneaking out every night like him would have been caught already, and the school would've shut that down immediately. So that leaves only one possibility."
"Midtown High School."
"As for what grade he's in, that's for the great Tony Stark to figure out himself," Lance said. "After all, you only paid five hundred dollars for the intel."
"Miser," Stark muttered.
He stood up as the armor's faceplate closed automatically. "I'm going to have a proper talk with that kid," he said. "The important thing is catching him and teaching him some respect."
"Instead of tinkering with something he thinks is impressive and running around showing it off. New York isn't his parents' backyard."
"I don't think his parents have a backyard," Lance cut in. He shrugged at the armor. "Middle-class family."
Stark's only response was to shoot off into the sky.
"So irritable."
Lance shook his head, then looked into the distance, where Daredevil was hurrying home beneath the night sky.
He raised his coffee cup and gave a small wave in that direction, then closed the window and went back to bed.
...
Peter Parker had been in a very good mood lately.
Ever since that spider bite, he had gained extraordinary abilities.
He was no longer a powerless, reclusive high school student. He had become strong, agile, something entirely different.
For a teenage boy in the middle of his fantasies, it felt incredible.
But even with these powers, he was not free of worries.
First, there was the pale, sickly man he had bumped into on the street. Although Peter had left his contact information, the man had never reached out. It made him uneasy, wondering if something had gone wrong.
Then there was his uncle and aunt.
Ever since gaining his powers, Peter had wanted to use them to improve his family's situation.
With his quick mind, he had already realized that abilities like his could be turned into money.
If he could earn money, his uncle and aunt would not have to work so hard.
More importantly, they would not have to live in constant anxiety, fearing they might lose everything overnight, be forced out of their home, or even end up homeless.
His uncle and aunt were good people. Truly good people. Even though money had always been tight and Peter rarely had new clothes, he knew it was all because of their hard work.
But sometimes, hard work did not lead to fair rewards.
Because of that, Peter had been thinking constantly about where he could go to earn money.
The question occupied his mind every day, leaving him distracted and increasingly irritable.
Whenever he saw Thompson at school, dressed head to toe in expensive brands, wearing sneakers that cost hundreds of dollars, an inexplicable anger would rise inside him.
Why?
On what basis?
Those questions repeated themselves in his mind.
Why did good people never receive the respect and dignity they deserved, while people like Thompson lived without a care?
Perhaps the Spider-Man of the future, hardened by battles and experience, would have an answer.
But the current Peter Parker was just a high school student, slowly losing his sense of proportion.
After thinking about it for a long time, his attention turned toward Hell's Kitchen.
Peter Parker decided to use his abilities to enter underground boxing.
As for how he would explain the money he earned, he had not figured that out yet.
___
Sorry friends, I was travelling. I'll post the 2 bonus chapters as soon as I settle down. 🥰
Read 12 chapters ahead of WN:
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