The detective club members gathered and recorded a "thank you video" for Spider-Man on their phones. After uploading the video, they chatted for a while longer before leaving. Of course, Peter Parker didn't go home—he slipped into the empty chemistry lab as silently as a nimble cat.
"If J. Jonah Jameson knew about this," Peter thought to himself, rummaging through reagent bottles, "he'd be ecstatic—Spider-Man's first official lawbreaking. Then again, Peter Parker did this, what's that got to do with Spider-Man? Good thing there are no cameras in the classroom. Let's see, I can probably mix three batches of web fluid. Hope it's enough. And I hope everything ends tonight—who knows when Herman's gauntlets will explode."
In less than twenty minutes, three bottles of pearlescent web fluid were tucked into his jacket pocket. He then opened the door, looked around to confirm no one saw him, and left the school.
Peter didn't notice that Karl King, who had stayed late for football practice, was nearby. He saw Peter leaving from a distance down the hallway and grew curious: What's skinny Parker doing at school so late?
Is he messing with something? Can I use this to mess with him? Get some revenge?
He curiously snuck into the lab, searching for what Parker had been doing, but found nothing. He then sniffed hard and located the workstation that smelled of chemicals.
"What was he doing here?"
Karl King curiously opened the filter cover of the sink and found some white sticky substance. Peter Parker was messing with this?
He tried to pull a piece off, but couldn't, so he cursed. He made a mental note and left the chemistry lab—unaware that the web fluid would biodegrade within two hours, and by tomorrow, it would be gone.
Meanwhile, Peter, having already changed into his suit, was on the phone with Uncle Ben.
"Hello? Uncle Ben, I'll be home late tonight. Just tell Aunt May her worried nephew went to watch the excitement. What excitement? Remember to watch the Daily Bugle's TV broadcast!"
An unprecedented surge of excitement coursed through him. Spider-Man swung through the Manhattan twilight, heading towards his next target. He needed a battleground, and to ensure safety and prevent interference, he'd need a road closure. While he could contact Captain Stacy, the Captain didn't have the authority to cordon off an entire battle zone. The Avengers did.
So he swung all the way to Avengers Tower, expertly landing on the helipad, then walked inside.
"Stop, soldier, you're entering a restricted area."
Steve Rogers walked out in a short-sleeved shirt, holding a cup of coffee. Peter had no choice but to explain: "I have a certain... danger sense, Captain. If I step into a dangerous area, I'll know."
"That's no reason to take risks, kid. Is there something you need?"
"I've found a way to bait out Shocker, but there are only two problems. First, I need to close off a section of road. I can't find anyone with enough authority to do that, so I thought, maybe the Avengers could help."
"That's not difficult. What's the second problem? You can tell us, and the Avengers will handle the rest."
"That's the second problem, Captain. The Avengers can't be involved."
Peter stated his demand: "Last time Herman couldn't beat me and fled. That's how I'll draw him out—give him a fair battlefield, let him willingly come here to fight me. If the Avengers intervene, he'll most likely just run away."
The Captain expressed his objection in one sentence: "So you want us to put all our hope on you defeating Shocker, and on his weapon not exploding in the process."
"I'm not proposing this plan because I think I failed and need to make amends, Captain. I'm proposing this plan because... I just feel like I can do it."
Peter took off his mask, looking at Rogers. Rogers looked back at him, then sighed and pulled out his phone.
"You win, kid. I know a friend who can help you."
Peter, with his enhanced vision, glimpsed a fleeting note on the screen: "Nick Fury," and smiled, saying thanks. He put his mask back on and prepared to leave.
Of course, the Captain had a new question.
"Uh, kid, where do you want to close off?"
"Times Square, Captain!"
Watching Spider-Man swing away, the Captain nodded and dialed a number: "Alright, Nick, I need you to help me cordon off Times Square. I'm not crazy..."
Only by challenging Herman in a sufficiently prominent location would Mr. Shocker be more likely to agree to a decisive battle there, and Times Square was the best choice. Peter arrived there, took out his old camera, and swung between buildings, searching for the best shooting angles. When the battle started, he'd stick the camera there, set it to automatic photography, and see if he could capture some photos to sell to Jameson.
If only someone in my previous life could have told me how American high school students could quickly get rich beyond odd jobs and crime, I'd now be taking photos of myself like the real Peter Parker... When I get rich, I definitely want to be like the Peter Parker in 'Into the Spider-Verse' and get my own high-tech base, filled with all sorts of costumes, or at least add a display function to my costume's eye lenses.
He really didn't know how to make money. If only he had transmigrated as Harry Osborn. Now, he could only wait for the Brazil World Cup and convince Uncle Ben to bet everything on Brazil losing 1-7—that was the most unforgettable thing in his memory, impossible to forget even after transmigrating.
"Alright, the Daily Bugle's live broadcast at 6 PM is about to start. Next stop, the Daily Bugle building! Time to meet my dear number one fan for the first time!"
Inside the Daily Bugle's media building, J. Jonah Jameson was reviewing another one of his daily news articles. Today was another day of railing against those damn masked freaks. He took a sip of water, cleared his throat, when suddenly his old friend Robbie burst into the broadcast room.
"Jonah, something big has happened."
"What could be so big, Robbie—"
"Spider-Man is here!"
Jonah Jameson's expression froze for a moment, then he immediately reacted: "Good! That despicable spider-creep finally found his way here! As long as I, Jameson, have breath in my body, I will never let that freak destroy freedom of the press!"
"He's not here to destroy freedom of the press, Jameson." Robbie cut off Jameson's rant: "He said he has an exclusive story for us."
Jameson's expression immediately solidified.
"Welcome to today's Daily Bugle News. Before we present the official news today, we've received a special recording." A few minutes later, in the broadcast room, Jameson looked as disgusted as if he'd eaten fly droppings. If that Spider-Man hadn't told him that Shocker's weapon could explode at any moment, he wouldn't have bothered with that spider-freak's affairs.
"Hey, Shocker, it's me, Spider-Man, remember?"
It was a selfie video, clearly shot on a phone, showing Spider-Man's large face right up to the camera: "I still remember how I thrashed you that day, and you had to pathetically threaten civilians' safety to get me to let you run away. What's wrong, been hiding these past few days?"
"I was thrashed?" Herman, hiding in his hideout, fumed: "I almost killed you that day, you damn creep!"
He decided to ignore that damn creep; no matter what he said, he wouldn't go out.
"I know you might be scared. You're worried you can't beat me, or perhaps worried your weapon isn't as powerful as you claim—or are you just afraid of the Avengers? If so, don't worry, I've handled everything. Tonight, after 8 PM, it'll just be you and me, facing off in Times Square. No Avengers, no police, but all the media in New York will be watching. I'll show the whole world that your weapon is nothing special, Shocker."
My weapon is nothing special?!
Herman, enraged, immediately opened his closet and pulled out his costume, then carefully considered if doing so was unwise.
"—That's all of New York's media, Herman. And if that bug isn't lying, it's just him."
Herman, after careful consideration, began to take off his clothes and put on his suit.
There would be no better opportunity. All of New York's media would remember: Shocker defeated Spider-Man!