Reborn as the Spider who bit Peter Parker

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***

After finishing all the projects with Gwen Stacy, I returned to my basement. While contemplating what to do, I habitually decided to make a cup of invigorating coffee. After torturing the machine for a couple of minutes, I got the much-needed drink. I was busy with easy diagnostics of the bike and listening to the news, trying to understand what kind of chaos was going on in the world. In Africa civil wars broke out in many countries at once and now people are cutting yesterday's neighbours with pleasure, and a lot of migrants rushed to America and the most prosperous countries of Europe, as if such rates of economic collapse would not come, and in fact it is quite possible with all this chaos going on in the world. And why is this world so turbulent? There's always something going on. Thinking about the last joint project with Gwen and finishing my coffee, I came to the idea that some of our joint research could be used to my advantage, and I haven't improved my 'suit' for a long time, so I have something to do. But how would it help me to instil spider traits in a human? Will he learn to climb walls and make webs? However, even a seemingly small thing like that could be useful, so it's worth considering.

Oh, and the curious concept of light foresight interests the hell out of me. A kind of spider sense, if it is properly instilled and developed, you can become a virtually unkillable war machine. As long as you don't get hit. However, it also sounds good, and a slight foresight can be useful in battle, you just need to find the right kind of spiders, but as I was able to find out that something similar is in the labs of Ozcorp, which after my filigree escape and did not think to stop working. So it's worth a visit to them to get some compensation for captivity and inhumane experiments. And maybe we can steal something else, too. There's not much to be found in Ozcorp's storerooms, is there? As they say: quietly expropriated and left, they call it found. Or was that not the case? I don't remember. So a raid into the bowels of Ozkorp will not be superfluous, and nobody cancels good old industrial espionage, the main thing in this case is not to be too impudent and not too greedy, and everything will be fine. And there and leak all the data for a dime to the black network, I hope Mr Oz will not be too angry for a small prank, on the other hand he may not know, but then we will have to act more subtly and discreetly. It'll be more interesting than the usual breaking and entering and stealing, at least, so why not? And it wouldn't be a bad idea to leave a virus in Ozcorp's system, just in case.

When I caught the news about another pogrom, which was organised by some lizards, I was immediately interested. What better reason to try out the armour? I'd cleanse the city of scum and test it out, though I doubted those lizards would be able to stand up to me. I began to slowly put on my heavy armour and it was time to test the effectiveness of all my preparations. Having made a quick run of the reactors and brought the power to a third of peak, I nodded with satisfaction, for everything was working like clockwork and it warmed my ego nicely. When work is done for a reason, it's always nice, especially if it was done by my own hands. After answering Felicia's message about the theatre, I was immediately reminded about dinner with Creed's 'family' and when had I promised to drop by for dinner? Without remembering the details, I just hummed thoughtfully again and left my basement at top speed, eager to get some exercise.

I was almost instantly in Queens, where the lizards were already frolicking, and I could see the familiar Creed vigilantes, who were defending some important points with weapons in their hands and slowly shooting all the attacking reptiles. Seeing the organised crowd that was actively looting, I decided to try my machine guns on them. I was surprised at the monstrous efficiency of my toys. Or maybe I was too used to brute force alone. Having suppressed all the rebellious moods and tried out the armour, I was finally satisfied and was going to return to the base to clean my armour and replenish the ammunition. The outing was a success, as well as the armour testing, although some things should be added, but in general the project turned out to be quite viable, and I haven't tested the ultra heavy version yet, but it's already a walking tank. In the distance I noticed some big guy with a slightly beastly look. A massive leather jacket, a smoking cigar in his teeth and very distinctive sideburns. I thought I'd seen this lumberjack somewhere before, but where? Six compact blades with the speed of an industrial combine turned the monsters literally into mincemeat, and I thought my methods were not humane? Huh... Well, we all make mistakes, and that's okay. The woodcutter smirked even more at the disgruntled faces of his enemies, and when the 'sensitive' opponents wrinkled at the unpleasant aroma, he immediately eliminated them as brutally as possible. What kind of animal rage coupled with human hypocrisy? He really is a beast, and he seems to be reveling in this fast-paced battle.

Noticing my attention, the stranger cold-bloodedly pierced the skull of the last lizard with his 'claws' and cast an interested glance in my direction. Having evaluated the iron armour, he instantly removed all the claws, except the middle one, immediately sending me to a known address. It's original. But what the hell? Should I teach him a lesson? Although this opponent is of unknown strength and ability, so he could easily pull an ace out of his sleeve and surprise me unpleasantly. However, I'm in a risky mood today, so why not? And another test drive for the armour wouldn't be out of place, so I stepped confidently towards the beastly fellow, who once again took another puff on his cigar, releasing clouds of smoke in my direction. He gave me a new look at my heavy figure, but then he released his claws and came at me with a predatory grin.

- I hate all these flying toasters, all you do is consume energy, just like the rest of your consumer society. The whole philosophy of consumerism... - the woodcutter suddenly spoke in French, but my built-in simultaneous translator was working properly, fulfilling its main purpose.

- And I don't like boorish people. What can you do? The world is not a perfect thing... - I answered in the tone of the big man.

- And the iron is with character, I love it! I'll scrap you, and they'll make an ashtray or a cactus pot out of your head.

- You speak up, you shaggy-haired animal, or do you want your tanks trimmed? - the unconcealed sneer was pouring through the vocoder.

- But I haven't been called a beast yet... - the woodcutter was quite sincerely indignant. - So I won't hurt you. - The beastly grinned predatorily, taking another puff.

- So you cut everyone indiscriminately, and there's no one to tell! - I immediately put in my five cents.

- Argument. - The big guy said approvingly. - Then I'll dismantle you for parts and there will be no one to call me a beast again. - The woodcutter grinned and became a blurred shadow.

In a fraction of a second he was dangerously close to me, but I had expected something like that, even if I hadn't expected such monstrous speed. Activating the jetpack to its full power, I instantly jumped back to continue analysing the abilities of my new opponent. Accelerating sharply, I delivered a powerful kick directly into the body of my opponent, who immediately flew a couple of metres away. He got up a second later, as if nothing had happened, and rushed back into the fray. The lumberjack's claws flashed dangerously in front of my visor, but by some miracle I managed to dodge a couple of millimetres away from a guaranteed fatal blow.

- Clever tin can. Well, we'll dance again. - as he took another puff, the little chap sped up again like a wind-up wiggler.

How does a guy this big get so fast all of a sudden?

Tired of playing games, I concentrated a couple of per cent of peak power from my reactors on my fingertips and touched my opponent's skin, sending a 'light' electric shock through him that would have killed a dragon, but the woodcutter only cheered up for a couple of seconds and continued the fight.

What kind of monster is this? I just wanted to try out my 'lats' in a street fight, not a one-on-one battle with such an unkillable monster.

Seeing the undisguised excitement in the eyes of my opponent, I also accelerated, habitually dodging and striking crushing blows at the most vulnerable points that I knew on the human body, but this behemoth simply ignored my every blow or lunge from time to time getting up as if nothing had happened. He's clearly not human. Although I think I'm starting to remember where I've seen this guy before. And the last time I saw him, someone tried to kill him, too. I wonder why he's so infuriating. Well, it's not surprising with such a nasty character, but I'm more curious as to why the hell he's still alive? Immortal?

No... Or is he?

- Stop dodging, dummy. Accept your fate and become part of my ascetic decor! Because you'd make a great flowerbed. - The berserker practically roared in a fit of insane rage.

When he stopped controlling his rage, he became much faster, and his blows became completely chaotic, so that now they could not be calculated. And yet, where did he get his animal power from? This big guy is unrealistically resilient. I hummed, and once again, I energised my fingertips, increasing the power by several times, and concentrating all the energy into a single shot this time, I hit the woodcutter with a beam of pure energy. Falling to the cracked asphalt with a hole in his chest, he finally fell silent. I grinned and noted with shock that the woodcutter's tissues began to regenerate rapidly, and he began to revive literally before my eyes. What the hell was that? In a couple of seconds, the huge wound in the chest of this apparently Canadian had practically healed, leaving no trace of what had happened on his torso.

- What the fuck are you...' I blurted out.

- I'm Logan! - The lumberjack stood up abruptly.

- Reno? - I immediately asked back.

- No...' growled the big man.

- Not French, then. - I summarise.

- I'm Canadian! - somehow already without much fervour growled the beastly little fellow.

- And I'm Russian. You know, it already looks like the beginning of some grotesque joke.

- Indeed. - agreed the woodcutter with sudden calmness. - What the hell did you do to me, tin man?

- You shouldn't have shown your middle claw.

- I was going to open a bottle of bourbon with it. - explained the Canadian, unzipping his jacket, which immediately spurted liquid, apparently from that ill-fated bottle of bourbon, and with a bitter look in his eyes, he threw the bottle, still sealed with cork wood, away, and looked at me unhappily. - You'll owe me an ironwood man. - grinned the big man and finally threw out his cigar on the bloody asphalt.

- Sorry for the misunderstanding, man... - I only managed to shout in the wake of the departing lumberjack. - Next time I see you, I'll buy you a drink. - I decided to add to that.

When I saw him waving his hand in agreement, I smiled. I quickly collected DNA samples, just in case, and grinned, because it wouldn't hurt to pay for such a 'gift'. And this man Reno or whatever his name was? One word immortal, so it's good that ends well, but nothing takes him, apparently he's like that psycho from the Russian restaurant, so it's all difficult to understand. It seems like everywhere they appear, chaos starts immediately or is it more like they come to the chaos? That's another question. Thoughtfully humming, I slowly flew back to the base, having long forgotten about the lizards and the purpose of my trip. But on the other hand, there is no such thing as a lot of knowledge, and this is a valuable experience, and I have not lost anything, but only gained something, and 'established' contact with the immortal creature, which is also not unimportant, so now we can return to the base and finally clean the 'lats'. I want to drink another cup of invigorating coffee, because I can't cope with everything that has come over me, and I promised Felicia and Carrot-top, and Creed always needs something.

Why don't I just blow it off and take a holiday? I'll have a nice holiday with May and relax a bit. What's the plan?

Back in my basement through one of the abandoned underground lines, I finally got around to checking my armour. After running another diagnostic and charging the armour, I switched back on the news, noting the flickering references to a new vigilante who was acting in conjunction with a constitutionally mandated vigilante group defending their private property with weapons in their hands. How quickly news travels in this town. I'm back and it's all over the news, the Hell's Kitchen devils are doing a good job. As I've already seen, they have the latest crime news in town, as if they were organising all the crimes themselves or shadowing the criminals and other vigilantes. Oh, and Daredevil is from this nice place too, isn't he? So that's where the real 'grace' and 'tranquility' is, not all the mouse fiddling like mine.

On the other hand, I myself am a kind of vigilante, but it's a question of PR and perception, because for some people you are a harsh scumbag that does good and causes justice, and for others quite a 'Friendly Neighbour' that keeps order on the streets of the city. So it's all about PR, and since I don't pay for it at all, I have it exclusively black, and I wouldn't say it's a bad thing, because reputation works for you anyway, the main thing is not to be hunted if I cross the line, and the rest is secondary.

Leaving the guts of the armour, I headed for the shower, quickly drying off and checking the time on my smartphone, I drove home leisurely. I wonder if Mei's back yet? We have a cake, so we can sit down for a cup of tea, and I've even missed her, so I need to fix that. Mentally smiling, I added gas, though the bike was not up to the speed of armour, but there was a charm in riding it, so every 'toy' was good in its own way. Enjoying the pleasant little things, I almost forgot about the strange fight with the Canadian, almost returning my good mood, but the harmony with myself with the world did not last long, and soon I passed Rhino in full battle attire, which was still in the same old habit of marching through the urban development and apartment buildings.

Seeing such a surreal picture again, I completely lost my good spirits. Crazy people, crazy city, and how did I not go crazy in all this chaos and parade of villains? It feels like there are no heroes at all, if there is such a fierce zvizdezdez, and where are they all, when they are so necessary? And it looks like we will never know what our 'heroes' are doing that is so important. Ugh... Bunch of degenerates, really. Maybe find a dozen other conscious citizens and help them become the new vigilantes? Slightly roll out the technology and those who survive will eventually become excellent hunters of various scum, but where to get so many ideological people, and how to motivate them to 'deeds' of this kind? Or maybe it would be easier to buy a dozen combat drones on the Ozcorp black market, programme them to do certain things according to a proven algorithm, and send them out on patrol with a clear conscience, watching the chaos they would cause in the city. I've come across the services of a customised workshop of a certain Smythe, so he'll be able to order upgrades for the birds of justice, or is the name too dumb? With a hum, I carefully parked myself next to May's Toyota Tundra. It looked like fortune had smiled on me after all and the family would finally get together. And I should not forget about the cake, because I like to eat good food and spend the evening having a curious interesting conversation with someone intelligent to broaden my horizons, and Mei fit all the criteria. Isn't family great?

- You've finally arrived, young man! - May said with feigned seriousness, and immediately took me in her arms.