Taking down the school bully was just a small distraction for Ethan Cole—nothing to be proud of, really.
Now that he had Spider-Man's powers, he wasn't thinking about high school drama. His goals were far beyond that.
His journey pointed toward the stars, not the cafeteria.
After finishing his burgers, Ethan left the lunchroom alone, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed him.
Still, as he walked out, he glanced at the student whose tray Flash had grabbed.
She was a girl with glasses and a messy bun. He didn't remember her name, but she looked familiar—one of those quiet students who always lingered in the background. Actually, now that he looked closer, she was surprisingly pretty.
"Make Flash pay you back for lunch," Ethan said flatly. "If he doesn't, come find me."
And with that, he walked off.
He had bigger things on his mind. Like designing his suit.
Fabric, paint, some tweaks—he wasn't going to waste the chance to become a hero.
Now that he had Spider-Man's powers, he wanted to swing across rooftops, stop bad guys, and feel the wind rushing past his face.
Of course, he couldn't do that in a hoodie and jeans.
Every real hero needed a suit. A good one. Something iconic.
And with a mask? No one would know who he was. That solved a lot of problems.
He remembered how both of the previous Spider-Men had red-and-blue suits. They looked cool, classic—even patriotic.
But those colors weren't really Ethan's style. If he could choose freely, he might've gone for something more dramatic. Maybe red and gold—bold, striking, a symbol of strength and hope.
Too bad Iron Man already claimed that palette.
Ethan didn't want to look like a knockoff Tony Stark. Besides, copying someone else's look? That would only bring him unnecessary attention. He needed something unique.
Something that felt like him.
What's Love Without Money
Taking down the school bully was just a small diversion for Ethan Cole, nothing to be particularly proud or happy about.
He now possessed Spider-Man's abilities, and his journey was aimed at the stars and the vast sea, not these trivial school matters.
After finishing his meal, he left the cafeteria on his own, ignoring the stares of his classmates around him.
However, he did glance at the person whose tray Thompson had snatched.
A girl with glasses and a bun—he didn't really remember her name, but she seemed like one of those background characters who always appeared nearby when the second Spider-Man was bullying or being bullied. She was quite pretty.
"Get Flash to pay you back for your meal. If he doesn't, come find me."
With that, Ethan left.
He still had a lot to do.
Designing his suit, buying fabric and paint—now that he had Spider-Man's powers, he was, of course, going to live it up a bit.
Swinging between buildings, roaming the night, taking down injustice, patrolling the city.
To be a hero, he definitely needed a suit. Otherwise, he wouldn't look cool—no superhero goes around in normal clothes.
And with a suit covering his face, it would save him a lot of trouble.
Spider-Man had built-in tailoring and art skills, so he didn't need anyone else to make his suit.
The previous two Spider-Men had classic red and blue suits, which matched the U.S. flag colors.
Those colors didn't appeal much to Ethan; if he could choose, he'd go for red and yellow—red for blood, yellow for light, and maybe add a few stars.
Unfortunately, Iron Man had already taken that color scheme. Ethan didn't want to look similar to him, and besides, it would be too obvious and could bring unnecessary hate.
So, he settled on a red base with black accents—the same colors as Holland's Spider-Man.
Once he saw the mock-up, it looked pretty cool.
Next up was the web shooter, which was the most important part.
The suit was just Spider-Man's form; the web shooter was his soul.
Though Ethan had gone through the original Spider-Man's mutation, his body was like the second Spider-Man's, without the glands to shoot webs from his wrists.
So, he'd have to make his own web shooters. It was a bit of a hassle, but better than having two organs that could shoot out white fluid.
Even if it was more convenient, having those organs exposed to the air and constantly spraying felt a little strange.
From Ethan's perspective, web shooters were better. At least he'd still feel like a normal person.
He had already gotten the concept for making web shooters from his dream last night. As a DIY enthusiast, this kind of task wasn't difficult for him.
Ethan skipped his afternoon classes, ordered all the materials for the suit and web shooters online, then went home and started tinkering in his landlord's unused workshop.
The sooner he finished his gear, the sooner he could go out swinging.
Ethan still remembered watching The Amazing Spider-Man 2 in 3D for the first time. That opening scene where Spider-Man descended from the sky, switching to a first-person view as he swung between buildings—it was awe-inspiring.
Now, he finally had the chance, so of course, he wanted to prepare everything as quickly as possible.
But just as he was tinkering with his web shooters amidst a pile of random equipment he couldn't even name, someone rang the doorbell.
When he opened the door, he saw Gwen standing there, along with a school official in a suit and a uniformed police officer.
"Mr. Ethan Cole," the school official said with a strictly professional expression.
"We need to ask you some questions regarding your actions against Eugene Thompson today in the classroom and cafeteria."
Next to him, Gwen whispered,
"You were acting in self-defense, so don't worry. Just be honest."
---
"Miss Gwen Stacy," the officer called out with a frown, though there was no scolding in his expression. He seemed somewhat familiar with Gwen.
Gwen made a funny face, pretended to zip her lips, took a step back, and gave Ethan Cole an encouraging fist pump.
Only then did Ethan realize that Gwen's affection level had somehow reached [60 (Friendly)], rising quite quickly.
Ethan hadn't felt any guilt over the incident, and with Gwen's support, the case was ultimately classified as self-defense.
Ethan not only didn't have to face any legal consequences, but he also didn't need to pay any medical expenses.
Soon, the matter was settled, and the school official and police officer left, but Gwen stayed behind.
"Thank you, Gwen."
Ethan thanked her. Even though he didn't think he was in the wrong, it was clear that the officer knew Gwen and had subtly sided with him, so he wouldn't ignore her kindness.
Gwen put her hands behind her back and smiled, nodding.
"Thank me? Just with those few words? I thought you might at least treat me to a meal or a movie."
Hiss…
Ethan was once again stunned by the straightforwardness of American girls. Dinner and a movie—was that a thank-you, or a date?
So, does that mean she's chasing after me?
Ethan chuckled to himself. It probably wasn't exactly her chasing him; more like she was attracted to his good looks and bravery and wanted to get to know him better.
Ethan, of course, wasn't going to reject Gwen's offer, but he didn't even have a hundred bucks on him.
He'd already spent all his money on a skateboard, camera, and all the equipment materials.
It's impossible to pursue a girl without money.
And giving up a date because of no money? Absolutely not.
After making weekend plans with Gwen, she left, and Ethan started looking through the newspaper.
---
---
He was broke, and asking his parents back home was embarrassing, so he searched the paper for any quick jobs that could earn him some fast cash.
He searched, and before long he actually found something.
"Amateur wrestling contestants wanted. Three minutes in the ring, $3000 reward. Requirements: must be optimistic."
Three minutes for $3000—that's a rate of $60,000 an hour.
Working eight hours a day would be $480,000. Twenty days a month would be $9.6 million. Twelve months a year…
Oh my God, a millionaire in a year!
Is my personality optimistic enough for this?
---