After helping as many people as we could, we turned away from the high-heat zone. I wasn't about to play tag with falling debris and stray webshots. Let the capes knock each other into buildings—I'd gotten what I came for.
Paramedic (33/100)
A third of the way there.
No idea when I'd get another perfect chaos-farming opportunity like this, so I'd milked it for everything it was worth.
And it paid off.
Vitality: F3 (Pending)
[First Aid] upgraded to Apprentice
Since I hit the first [Paramedic] milestone, my vitality stat got a bump, but I hadn't accepted the change yet—no reason to do it out in the open. I'd finalize it later, probably while going to sleep.
And my [First Aid] skill? Finally hit Apprentice. Even if the mission counter didn't go up from helping the seriously injured, every bandage still gave me XP. Now I could treat moderate injuries, stitch basic wounds, and even recognize early signs of infection.
All in all, not a bad day.
Then I heard the sharp whoosh overhead.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
That damn old fucker. Since you like fighting with that wall-crawler so much, do it somewhere far away. Why do you have to bring the fight near me?
Vulture and Spidey had looped back around. The old bird was gripping the spider and barreling straight into a building like a heat-seeking missile.
At least Spider-Man finally got to use that little device he'd been working on. While Vulture held him mid-air, he slapped it onto the harness—a compact anti-magnetic disruptor. Smart kid.
Vulture's flight pattern went shaky almost immediately. Spidey followed up by webbing him and slingshotting him straight into another building. Crash. Sparks. Classic.
Because of the disruptor's interference and the awkward angle, Vulture couldn't maneuver in time. His wing rig took a serious hit.
He tried to escape, flying back toward their original battleground, with Spider-Man right on his tail.
However, both of them overlooked one crucial aspect.
A small component had broken off when Vulture crashed.
And I saw exactly where it landed.
The fight here was quick—too quick for the crowds to relocate.
I walked over casually and planted my foot on the part.
Bent down to "tie my shoe."
May didn't even look twice—too focused on the flying circus act overhead.
I palmed the part and slipped it into my pocket.
"Let's go, May," I said, brushing off my jeans. "Looks like the show's wrapping up and traffic might clear soon."
She nodded, and we returned to the cab.
I sat back behind the wheel, hands on the steering, heart already calculating what I could do with the tech I'd just stolen.
I might've gotten into ESU's Computer Science department, but let's not kid ourselves—I was a normal genius.
In a world full of actual geniuses? Stark, Richards, Doom, Banner, Octavius? I was a background extra in a Mensa convention.
Even the bald old vulture had me beat—he built a working flight harness with his bare hands and a grudge. That counted for something.
So no, I wasn't going to reverse-engineer the part I stole overnight, cook up a prototype tomorrow, and roll out mass production the day after.
This wasn't Stark Tower, and I wasn't Iron Man. Hell, I wasn't even Iron Intern.
I'd study it. Break it down. But with my schedule? It'd take time.
By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, the fight was over. Vulture was webbed up like a piñata and hanging upside down from a pole, defeated and thoroughly embarrassed.
The traffic finally started moving, and we resumed our journey back to May's place.
"Uhm… Kevin," May called out hesitantly. I glanced up in the rear-view mirror, already knowing what she wanted to say.
"I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't know… about your parents," she said softly, guilt heavy in her voice.
I gave her a soft smile while smirking in my head, "Don't worry, I was not offended. I knew you meant nothing bad about it."
Seeing my calm and reassuring smile, she also calmed down and smiled in return.
"Thank you, Kevin," she said, then paused before adding, "But you know… I meant what I said. Your parents—wherever they are—would be proud. I know I am."
Her face was filled with warmth and admiration. "You don't need to be a masked vigilante to help people. As long as you have a good heart, you can help people all the same."
"Thanks, May, for your words. Hearing you say that, I feel like it is my mom who praised me for all my hard work," I said with a slightly choked voice. A single tear slid down from my eye.
You really were a good person, May. That's why I became attracted to you. And that would make watching you fall all the more entertaining.
"Oh dear, please don't be sad. I am sure she would be proud of your efforts and hard work," May said emotionally. She was already in tears. She reached for a tissue, her hands trembling.
And like the gentleman I was, I handed her a handkerchief before that. She thanked me.
I smiled softly and let the silence do the rest.
The mood eventually settled, and the ride came to an end as we reached her place.
"Kevin, would you like to stay for dinner?" May asked hopefully. "You must be starving after everything that happened today. And I'm sure you miss real home-cooked food."
I gave a regretful smile and looked down, my voice quiet.
"Thanks, May. That means a lot. But I'm incredibly sorry—I have a test tomorrow. I need to study and still get enough sleep for class in the morning."
I hesitated, then added, "I'll just grab some noodles on the way home."
She looked like she wanted to insist, but relented with a sigh. "Okay. But don't rely on fast food every day, alright? You're still young—you need proper nutrition."
She kept going.
"And studying is important, but don't stay up too late. Sleep is just as essential. You can always review more in the morning."
I smiled and nodded through her gentle nagging. Honestly? I liked it.
It felt… normal. Almost.
Eventually, she stopped.
"Take care, Kevin," she said, her voice soft but warm. "And don't be a stranger, okay? If you ever need anything, you know where I am."
"Thanks, May. I'll remember that," I said with a genuine-looking smile and turned to leave.
She was almost disappointed that I said no. Perfect.
No navigation route appeared—my home wasn't part of an active objective. So I manually opened the map, found the little house icon, and mentally set it as my target.
Part of the [Navigation Module] update included static marker support. I could tag key locations I'd already uncovered and use them as travel points. No fast travel yet, sadly—but still useful.
I stopped by a local place and picked up some noodles on the way.
Once I got home, I ate quietly, then opened my books and began studying.
What? I really had a test. And I was not missing or failing it. Not unless the world was ending or something similar. My pride won't allow it.
Empire State University, Cafeteria, Lunch Break:
Once again, the cafeteria buzzed with heated chatter—and once again, everyone was talking about the same thing: Vulture's defeat.
For the student body, it was a win. The rookie hero had finally stomped a real villain.
Footage of the fight was already flooding the internet, climbing by hundreds of thousands of views per minute. News anchors couldn't shut up about it. Spider-Man, once the guy who beat up muggers and street thugs, was now being name-dropped alongside the Avengers and Fantastic Four.
I still remember the radio broadcast from earlier this morning, courtesy of our favorite snark queen, Jenna Volt.
"Spider-Man and Vulture went for round two yesterday—this time in the middle of rush hour. Because apparently, crime-fighting works best when the sidewalks are full and everyone's stuck in traffic."
"The airborne brawl ended with Vulture eating asphalt and Spider-Man swinging off like he had somewhere better to be. The good news? One less winged lunatic in the sky. The bad news? Half the block looks like a Michael Bay audition tape."
"Vulture's currently in police custody, hospital gown and all, mumbling something about 'ungrateful youth' and 'drone privileges.' Which, honestly, could just be Tuesday at any nursing home."
"Falling debris injured multiple bystanders, and traffic was stalled. But hey, at least the crowd got some great footage for their social media. Nothing says civic pride like filming a live battle while concrete chunks aim for your skull."
"Either way, skies are clear—for now. At least until another villain with wings and childhood trauma shows up."
"I'm Jenna Volt, Channel 7 and a Half—reminding you that if you're gonna fight a teenager with superpowers, maybe don't do it in a bird costume held together with duct tape and delusion."
I sipped my drink and leaned back.
This woman seriously needed to be dicked down. That level of sarcasm couldn't be natural.
"Did you see Spider-Man's fight with Vulture yesterday? It was amazing! He looked so cool when he took that guy down," Marko gushed, practically vibrating in his seat like he was the one who landed the knockout blow.
"Yeah, yeah, I saw," I replied, voice flat. I didn't bother mentioning that I had front-row seats. If I did, I wouldn't get a moment's peace for a week.
"Hey—show some enthus—" he started, but his voice cut off mid-word. His eyes went wide like someone just punched him in the soul.
I raised a brow. "Why do you look like you just saw Spider-Man bend Vulture over a lunch table?"
He didn't respond. Didn't even blink.
Then I heard it.
"Hey, boys. Talking about anything fun?" said a voice that oozed trouble and silk.
I sighed. Deeply. Recognized that voice instantly.
Why?
WHY?
I turned and found Felicia walking toward us, a flirty smile on full display, hips swaying like she had a camera on her. She sat down across from us like she owned the cafeteria.
What the fuck were you doing sitting at the table of two nobodies? If you really wanna sit with someone, sit with the elites at their table.
Seriously, Felicia, you were breaking my immersion. I was trying to play the background NPC, dammit.
Her move silenced the entire cafeteria. Now everybody was looking at us.
I sighed once again. Why couldn't you just let me be a scheming bystander?
The whispers started like clockwork.
"Why is Felicia Hardy sitting there?"
"Who's the other guy?"
"Is this a dare?"
"Are they related?"
"Did they win a contest?"
Yeah, yeah, I was with you on this one. Felicia was not supposed to sit with two nobodies, whom no one cared about.
"Who are you? Did you perhaps come to the wrong table?" I asked, half-hoping she just came by accident.
But it might be that she liked tormenting me; she smirked like a cat who just knocked over a vase, "Nope, I came to the correct table."
Fucking hell.
I once again sighed. I just stopped sighing again and again, and she was making me fall back into my old habit.
"Why?" I asked through a clenched smile.
"What are you saying, Kevin?" Marko jumped in, clearly desperate to be part of the conversation. He punched me in the arm and turned to her with a grin like he was auditioning for The Bachelor.
"Please don't mind him," he said. "He's an idiot. You're very welcome to sit with us."
His gentlemanly act might've worked better if he hadn't had literal drool collecting at the corner of his mouth.
I rubbed my arm and glared at him.
Wipe your damn face, simp.
"I came to ask for your help, Kevin," Felicia said, coyly twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. "I joined late, so I'm behind in some classes. We both have Electronics, and I was hoping you could help me catch up today after class."
Bitch.
Was this her idea of payback for our first meeting? I thought she was over that long ago.
And help her study? Please. We both knew we had a heist tonight. What was I supposed to do—bring flashcards to the getaway van?
Or this could be her little test. To see if I'd pick her… or her. Black Cat vs. Felicia Hardy.
Cute.
But wrong move, kitten. I'd pick money over beauty every time—because money could buy me an endless supply of beauty.
Ha, if you thought you could make me simp for you, then you were in for a very rude awakening.
"Sorry, but I have something to do; it would not be possible," I refused flatly.
"Aww, really?" she pouted, tilting her head and parting her lips ever so slightly. It was a practiced move—equal parts innocent and seductive. But I could see her interest in me increasing.
I was once again having some problems downstairs; fortunately, the table covered it.
You'd better be ready, bitch. Soon, I would bend you over and punish you thoroughly for messing with me.
"Nope, sorry. Too busy," I refused her ruthlessly once more.
Meanwhile, Marko looked at me as if I had crushed a cute puppy under my taxi, twice.
"How could you say no to that face?" he gasped. "Kevin, when did you become a heartless bastard? She clearly needs help!" He looked offended as if I fucked his girlfriend and then ordered her to kick him in the balls.
Felicia turned up the poor-lost-kitten expression another notch—and somehow made it sexier.
"Thanks, Marko," she purred, clutching his hand. "You're such a good man."
Marko looked ready to propose on the spot. Just a little push, and steam would come out of his ears.
"But I really am busy today, Marko," I said, looking helpless.
Then, I looked as if I thought of a great plan, I said, "Why don't you teach her, Marko? You also have the subject," I said, and winked at him. "I am sure she will appreciate you helping him."
Marko looked stunned at first, but then he realized my meaning. He looked at me as if I were his long-lost brother.
"I-I can help. But I am not as good in the subject as you, Kevin," he stuttered and tried to deny, but the smile was practically leaking from his face.
"What are you talking about? You're great," I said with mock sincerity. "I'm sure Felicia would learn way more from you than me."
And now it was her turn to be cornered.
Marko looked at her with hope burning in his eyes.
Felicia gave him a dazzling smile. "Of course, Marko. It'd be my pleasure to have you help me."
She dragged out the word pleasure just enough to leave his brain spinning.
Then she flicked her eyes toward me, her smile turning sly, challenging.
I just smirked and winked back.
Poor Marko. He didn't even know he was just a pawn in the game.
As we chatted, I saw someone storming toward us like a poorly written mini-boss.
Uhh. The manchild. I knew something was missing in the equation.
Because, of course, when the most popular girl on campus sat down with two nobodies, someone's fragile ego had to implode.
"Hey, losers!" Flash barked, voice loud enough to wake the dead. "Who the hell gave you the right to sit with Felicia? You're not worthy to breathe the same air as her!"
Then he turned toward Felicia with a cocky grin, probably thinking she'd throw herself at him and offer him triplets on the spot.
Flash had been spiraling lately. Publicly humiliated by Parker, dumped by his girlfriend—who promptly joined the Parker fan club—and now too gutless to rechallenge Peter.
So what did he do? Set his sights on easier prey.
Me and Marko.
A two-for-one special. Add a new girl to impress? Jackpot.
Felicia didn't even acknowledge him. Just rolled her eyes and turned her amused grin toward me, as if she were watching her favorite show in real life.
Of course, she wanted to see how I'd handle this.
Which was not a big deal for me. With my [Martial Arts (Novice)] skill, wiping the floor with him was no big deal, but it would put me in the spotlight in front of the college, and even if the matter would get cold in some time, till then I would not be able to play my role of a background NPC, even then people would still know me.
I glanced at Marko, hoping for backup.
Nope. My guy looked like a deer being asked to defuse a bomb.
Sigh. It was my mistake believing Marko would be of any help. I was sorry, Marko. I would not expect any further assistance from you.
Just as I was ready to say goodbye to my peaceful life, which truthfully would no longer be so calm with Felicia sharing the table with us, someone came to save the day.
And who could it be other than our friendly neighborhood nerd and his growing harem of three girl friends. That gap between girl and friends, yeah, that was intentional.
"Stop it, Flash," Peter said, but it felt more like an order.
Flash turned on him like a kicked dog. "Who the hell do you think you are, Parker? What I do isn't your business!"
Flash felt Peter was challenging his authority in the college.
"It is when you're harassing people," Peter stated naturally.
Oh? Someone's voice had gotten steadier. Looks like a few thug takedowns and a win over the winged grandpa had done wonders for his confidence.
Gwen, MJ, and Liz were looking at him with shiny eyes.
Flash was already simmering from his last public beatdown. Peter's tone pushed him over the edge.
"Fuck you, Parker!" he snapped—and swung a punch straight at Peter's face.
*********************
Hey guys, what do you think of the pacing so far? Pick the one that fits you best:
Slow – I'm so slow in bed my girlfriend falls asleep mid-action… but even I think this story moves slower.
Just Right – I'm as satisfied with the pacing as my girlfriend is with my bedroom skills.
Fast – I'm so fast they call me 0.2 Pump Chump, but even I think this story finishes quicker than I do.
Be honest. No matter what you pick, I'll silently judge you… or laugh at you. Probably both.