"I'm going to do exercises! I'm going to make a super battle suit! I'm going to be a superhero!"
Peter Parker, who was only seven years old, shouted with high spirits as he raised his arms.
Until Aunt May scooped him up and threw him into a car parked by the side of the road.
"Peter, you can take your time to become a superhero, but you have a more important task right now: go to school, or you'll be late!"
"...I see, Aunt May."
Aunt May didn't dampen little Peter's unrealistic ideas. After all, they were just children's naive fantasies. If Peter was truly willing to learn, Aunt May would be more than happy. How could she suppress a child's enthusiasm?
Turning to Lu Chuang, she smiled, "That..."
She suddenly realized she didn't know his name.
"My name is Robert, but you can call me Robert." Lu Chuang chuckled.
"Alright, Robert, there's something I need your help with."
Aunt May pointed to the black youth who was collapsed on the ground. "I called the police, but it might take them a while to arrive. I'm worried he might do something crazy…"
"Understood, I'll give him a few more kicks to make sure he won't get up before the police come!"
Hearing Robert's words, the black youth pretending to be dead looked even more miserable—oh no, even darker.
If Robert kicked his Achilles' heel a few more times, there would be only two possible outcomes: either he wouldn't be able to get up ever again or he'd be unable to get up for the rest of his life.
Aunt May was startled and quickly waved her hands. "No, no, you misunderstood! I mean, could you stay here until the police arrive?"
Robert sighed, clearly disappointed. "Well, I'm fine, but are you sure you don't want to consider my suggestion? This guy seems pretty vicious. His knife could easily escalate from robbery to something more serious."
"Uh, if he wants to resist, you can just kick him..."
The black youth lay there, pretending to be dead. No matter how much anyone called him, it didn't matter! Clearly, no one was paying him any attention.
Aunt May was quite the talkative type, so after chatting for a while, a police car finally pulled up. Two police officers got out and looked at the people conversing, then at the black youth lying on the ground with a pained expression.
Without hesitation, they immediately arrested the black youth, who made no attempt at resistance.
One officer said to Aunt May, "Ma'am, don't worry, we've got this vicious criminal under control."
The black youth silently cursed.
Once the police officers took the youth into custody, Aunt May thanked Robert once again and then hurriedly drove Peter to school.
Robert, meanwhile, returned to his house. After opening the iron gate in the garage, he pulled out his motorcycle.
He was going out for breakfast, and perhaps, he'd buy a few more exercises for little Peter.
A week had passed since Robert moved into his new home.
Along with him, there was now a permanent addition to his family—none other than little Peter from Aunt May's household.
After the incident, Aunt May had visited to say hello, bringing Peter along. This wasn't about Robert, but rather Robert's parents. When Aunt May learned Robert was still a high school student, she naturally assumed he was living with his parents.
But after Aunt May's visit, she was surprised to learn that Robert lived alone. According to Robert, his parents were no longer in this world.
Touched by Robert's circumstances, Aunt May, perhaps thinking of her nephew Peter, or simply out of kindness, started inviting Robert over for dinner. Robert was polite and always accepted, and after a few meals together, he gifted Peter a collection of exercises he had bought for him.
Through these interactions, Robert and Aunt May grew closer. Little Peter, in particular, often visited Robert's place. Aunt May didn't mind, as she had a good impression of Robert. Though he occasionally said some strange things, he was generally a trustworthy young man. Besides, Aunt May was busy and couldn't always spend time with Peter. She was worried that Peter might become more withdrawn, and she was happy he had someone to play with.
And so, little Peter frequently found himself having fun at Robert's place.
One day, as Robert was relaxing on the couch, little Peter came running toward him.
"What's in there?" he asked, pointing to the closed door of the garage.
For days, he had seen Robert walk into the garage, spending hours inside, often hearing strange sounds coming from within. His curiosity was piqued, and he wanted to know what Robert was doing in there.
Sipping his soda, Robert casually responded, "That's the superhero's studio."
Little Peter blinked, not quite getting it.
A few seconds later, he asked, "So, you're a superhero?"
Robert didn't speak but flashed a mysterious smile.
Seeing Robert acting all mysterious, little Peter immediately jumped up, his face lit with excitement. "Oh my god! You're actually a superhero! No wonder you were able to defeat that villain last time!"
"Little Peter," Robert said, a bit dismissive, "You know, in the eyes of superheroes, that kind of guy isn't even worth mentioning."
Robert curled his lips in disdain, picked up a toy gun that was conveniently next to him, and aimed it lazily. Without much effort, he fired a shot.
Little Peter looked closely as the suction cup bullet stuck to the wall about five meters away from a flying dart target.
"..."
Peter fell silent for a moment, clearly unimpressed.
Noticing the boy's suspicious gaze, Robert cheerfully encouraged him, "Go over and check the bullets."
The bullet had stuck at a height Peter could reach. He went over and carefully pulled the suction cup out of the wall. What he saw shocked him—there was a fly stuck to the suction cup, still alive. It looked as though the bullet had hit the fly in mid-air and stuck it to the wall.
"Okay, that's great!" Peter exclaimed in excitement.
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