Mysterio stood there bewildered, having no idea what had just happened, just like Hao Jian after an old lady had inexplicably collapsed.
He slowly lowered his hands, and a glimr of clarity finally erged in his muddled brain. That's right, all these were just tricks concocted by the opponent, rely a scare tactic. The fact that he could so easily dispose of such a huge monster was proof enough, wasn't it?
Cheers and applause filled the live stream room as well. The audience didn't know who this mysterious person was, but seeing him defeat a hideous and terrifying monster so effortlessly, he must be the up-and-coming superhero.
Indeed, the public had been complaining for a while now. Several hours had passed since the space station incident, and where were the superheroes? Iron Man? Spider Man? Captain Arica?
Where had all these heroes who should have co forward to save the world gone?
Actually, such questions had been asked since the first mont of the disaster, but at that ti, most people were concerned about the falling space station. Later, they got caught up in the argunt about the special effects and forgot about this matter.
However, after the crisis with the robots occurred, many of the inflammatory comnts disappeared from the internet, and the public's thinking gradually returned to normal. They started to realize, what about all those superheroes who used to swagger through New York Sky?
S.H.I.E.L.D. released an official explanation which boiled down to trouble being stirred up in the Centaurus area, and now all the superheroes had gone to the frontlines. Although the public wasn't quite satisfied with this explanation, there was nothing they could do. Who knows how many were praying in their hearts for the Centaurus conflict to end quickly so those powerful superheroes would return to save them.
But unfortunately, as they waited and waited, the superheroes did not return, and the public's disappointnt had nearly reached its peak.
It was at this mont that Mysterio appeared.
In the past, the sudden ergence of a new superhero, unless he really did sothing big to shock the world, would typically only gather attention from fans of superhero groups. Most interest would be for entertainnt, analyzing the design of his costu, and guessing the specific limitations of his powers.
But now, they couldn't afford to look at Mysterio with the sa entertainnt-focused view. After all, it was a pivotal mont for the survival of Earth, and anyone who could step forward was definitely a hero.
Having defeated the giant spider monster, Mysterio chose to press on. He was still far from the Power Engine, but ti was running out. The countdown clock displayed on the screen now showed only 21 minutes remaining.
At the sa ti, another live stream appeared before the public. It was clearly shot by that self-proclaid malevolent AI nad Friday, who had hacked into the caras. Another person was also heading towards the room with the Power Engine, and that was Ben Parker.
He held a flashlight and strode purposefully in one direction, occasionally glancing at his watch, fearlessly navigating through the darkness. It was clear to everyone that he too wanted to defuse the bomb.
However, the public didn't hold out much hope for him. During Peter Parker's interviews, Ben Parker had also appeared on screen, and many knew he was just an ordinary person and no longer the vigorous youth he once was. What would he do if he encountered such a terrifying monster?
But soon, Ben Parker left the main corridor and entered a maintenance tunnel. Although the power was out and the doors wouldn't open, he could still get in by dismantling the door locks. The originally very narrow space seed to offer a greater sense of security.
Mysterio wasn't as lucky. Following the giant chanical spider monster, he encountered a furious robotic battalion, wave after wave of robotic insect swarms and two other huge insect-like terror machines.
Despite Mysterio's formidable power—whose source the public was yet unaware of, though so speculated it to be a type of conjured magic, akin to creating things out of thin air—he dealt with these obstructions with ease. But obviously, facing such peril, no one could co out completely unscathed. His cloak was now torn, he took a hit on his left arm which he could barely lift now, and two cuts marred his face.
But he still staggered forward, with countless people behind the screens cheering for him and calling him the mysterious savior.
But Beck was unaware of all this, just inwardly cursing and complaining non-stop. How many minions did this damned evil robot have exactly?! Did he prepare even more thoroughly than himself???
Beck knew that even though these monsters were rely for show, so was he. Drones weren't infinitely powered, and already about a third of them were almost out of battery.
Once the drones ran out of power, their cloaking function would fail. If he were to leave these drones in the space station, he would certainly be exposed. Hopefully, he could reach his destination before the drones' batteries drained completely.
With only 15 minutes left until the bomb exploded, Mysterio finally saw a glimr of hope. The control room for the Power Engine was close at hand.
There was another group of robotic guards at the entrance. Mysterio leaned against the wall at the end of the corridor to catch his breath for a while, clearly exhausted. Commanding the drones didn't require much physical effort from him, but his injuries made every step difficult.
Yet he trudged on.
"Oh my God, he's amazing," exclaid Miles from inside the New Warriors Base, clutching a bag of chips while munching and watching the live stream. Everyone else was packing up their gear, ready to head out and tackle any criminal cases that might arise amidst the panic.
Hearing the noise, Miles quickly dropped his chips and stood up, his hands nervously rubbing together as he asked, "Is there anything I can help with?"
Robert waved his hand and said, "Just stay here and keep an eye on the live stream. Let us know if there's any ergency, and don't you dare run out there; it's full of lunatics right now."
Miles opened his mouth, but no one noticed the fleeting look of disappointnt in his eyes. Yet the young Black man sat back down, his gaze filled with envy as he watched Mysterio bravely fighting the robots.
Before popping the last chip into his mouth, Miles sighed. Clutching the bag of chips tightly, he stood up but then sat back down after a long mont.
As he opened another bag of chips, his face was etched with a look of dejection. But just then, there was a knock on the door.
Miles walked over and upon opening the door, he saw an unexpected figure—Peter Parker.
"Hello, Miles, rember ?" Peter said warmly as he looked at him.
"Of course, I rember you," Miles finally perked up a bit as he said, "Genius researcher Peter Parker, the role model our teachers always talk about, they tell us to learn from you."
Peter, sowhat helplessly, patted his forehead and said, "Have you forgotten? We t in Los Angeles, and even went surfing together..."
Miles seed a bit embarrassed, he stepped aside to let Peter in, and said in a low voice, "Sorry, my mory isn't so great. I've never spoken to you, right? I definitely wouldn't dare."
Peter didn't say anything, just patted his shoulder, and the two sat down near the sofa. Peter looked at Miles and asked, "How old are you this year?"
"I just turned 17, why?"
Peter did so quick ntal math; the Miles Spiderman he knew was already in his twenties. So, when he himself was 17, he seed to still be researching how to be a good Spiderman.
"Miles, I ca to talk to you because I want to discuss sothing with you," Peter hesitated for a mont before he spoke, "Don't feel any pressure, if anything I say makes you feel uncomfortable, please tell right away, and we'll pretend I never ca today."
Miles stared at him blankly, and seeing Peter's utterly serious expression, he still nodded. His Adam's apple moved involuntarily. He sensed that sothing major was about to happen.
"I am Spiderman," Peter said.
Oh God, Miles scread internally, he said it with the sa tone as if he'd said I had pancakes and fried eggs this morning!
But before Miles could question it, Peter flipped gracefully and stuck to the ceiling, a strand of Spider Silk attached to the chip in Miles's hand, and with a whoosh, he retracted the silk and sat on the sofa holding the chip, steady as ever.
Miles's eyes nearly popped out.
"Oh my God, you really are... I an, how can you possibly... uh, but, Spiderman..."
"I am The Third Generation Spider-Man," Peter said with another smile.
Miles was so shocked he was almost numb and didn't know what to say. Peter simply outlined his recent experiences until Miles was speechless.
After a long silence, Peter said, "I ca to you today because I hope you can take over the identity of Spiderman and continue Spiderman's mission."
"What? Spiderman? ???" Miles was stunned again, unable to speak coherently, and didn't know where to put his hands.
"Yes, previously, the New Warriors Team contacted you because I told them to. I wanted them to help see if you had the potential to beco a superhero. They said you're a kind person."
"Um, uh, yeah, I think I'm a good person," Miles managed to say, but he was still very confused, frowning at Peter, "But why ? There are so many people who are kinder and better than ."
"Because there's another you who did very well," Peter said without hesitation, "In every Parallel universe, there's a Spiderman, and most of them are another , but one is quite special."
"It isn't , is it?"
"Exactly, you," Peter nodded and continued, "He's one of those who's done a pretty good job as Spiderman, so when I felt I needed a successor, you were the first one I thought of."
"But... but..." Miles, a Black man, went red in the face as he struggled to articulate, "I can't, how could I be Spiderman?"
"I will give you my powers," Peter once again made a startling statent, "Although most Spidern's powers co from being bitten by a Spider, you're lucky; you don't have to be bitten to gain the abilities of a Spider."
"Ah?"
Peter ignored Miles's conflict and hesitation, leaned forward, and looked into Miles's eyes, "You just need to tell whether you want to be Spiderman or not. If you do, you certainly can."
Miles was silent for a long while.
When he opened his mouth again, he didn't say whether he could or couldn't, but just said, "I've always wanted to be a hero, but I think it might not be out of kindness, but vanity. I want to be famous, not like a sports star, but in a way that makes people respect from their hearts."
"But I know that's hard. I can't do it, I... I'm just an ordinary person, even physically not as strong as the big guys in the community, and I don't have any other talents. I can't do it."
"Is that so? So in other words, as long as people give you the admiration you deserve, you'd protect them."
"No... that's not it." Miles had never considered this interpretation before, he said, "But shouldn't a superhero be soone who genuinely wants to help others?"
"You're saying we shouldn't want anything in return?"
"That's not what I ant," Miles imdiately countered, "Of course, you deserve all the accolades, and even a high salary would be good, because what you do is really dangerous. Every ti I see Spiderman jumping off the roof of a high building, I feel my heart being squeezed."
"So what's the difference between doing good from the heart and doing it for fa? You choose to face danger to protect people, does it matter what the motive is as long as you do it?"
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