After soaking in the hot spring and playing around with Onion, all of Lucas's fatigue vanished. Feeling refreshed and content, he finally returned to DevilMayCry.
At that moment, Skye was lounging lazily on the couch, happily petting the Moogle. When Lucas suddenly appeared out of thin air, she nearly jumped out of her seat and immediately pulled out a high-voltage taser, aiming it straight at him.
"Hold your fire, Captain! It's me—it's me!"
Lucas quickly raised his hands in mock surrender, even giving a comical French-style salute.
"Boss~?! What the hell—why did you just pop out of nowhere?" Skye exclaimed, lowering the taser. She had literally watched him materialize in the middle of the room.
"Well~~~ that's a long story~~ But hey, you can do it too, you know~~"
As he spoke, Lucas handed her a crystal—one of the keys to the Chocobo Space.
"Wow! This crystal is gorgeous! You're giving it to me?"
Skye's eyes lit up instantly. She took the crystal and held it in both hands, admiring it from every angle. A crystal that big had to be worth a fortune.
"That's a key, not a gemstone. Don't even think about selling it."
Seeing the gleam in her eyes, Lucas already knew what she was thinking.
"Che~ Even if you killed me, I wouldn't sell it! It's too beautiful to give up. And besides, I'm not exactly short on cash right now."
Skye rolled her eyes at him. She couldn't bear to part with something so pretty anyway.
"Wait—you said it's a key? A key to what?" she asked, finally realizing the important part.
"Curious where I've been? That crystal is your answer." Lucas pointed at it meaningfully.
"Oh? Tell me! Quick!" Skye leaned forward like a cat who'd just spotted a shiny toy.
"Tonight," Lucas said. "We'll wait for Gwen and Peter to come over too."
Classes hadn't started yet, so Gwen had picked up a tutoring gig—teaching middle schoolers after hours. Tutoring wasn't just an Asian thing; there were cram schools everywhere in the world, apparently.
Peter, meanwhile, had been roped into working part-time with Felicia. He ran deliveries for a restaurant, while Felicia taught dance classes at a local studio.
Yep—Peter hadn't escaped her clutches after all. They were officially together now.
And the most dramatic part? Felicia already knew his secret identity.
The story went something like this—
One day, Felicia had been surrounded by a group of street punks. Their leader, instantly captivated by her long legs and stunning figure, decided she had to "go to a movie" with him. Felicia refused, of course, and when things got physical, she knocked down three of them before Peter swooped in wearing his "Pepsi Spider" suit, taking out the rest in seconds.
Only then did he realize who he had just rescued—Felicia. What surprised him more was that she could clearly handle herself; even without his help, those thugs wouldn't have stood a chance.
Panicked, Peter was about to bolt before she could recognize him—but fate had other plans. Felicia had twisted her ankle.
His reflexes kicked in, and he reached out to steady her. That brief contact was all it took—Felicia caught his scent.
Then, without a word, she grabbed his mask and yanked it clean off. No hesitation. No mercy.
Peter froze on the spot, mortified. Run or stay—both options were impossible. He wished he could just disappear.
Somehow, that embarrassment turned into chemistry. According to Skye's later gossip-fueled "analysis," Felicia had definitely made the first move—and probably threatened him a little, too. Something along the lines of "Date me, or I'll tell everyone who you really are." Honestly? Totally believable.
And just like that, Peter fell completely into Felicia's grasp—never to escape.
When Lucas first heard the story, he thought Skye had made it up. What kind of person writes this kind of plotline? It was so absurd it looped back around to genius.
But reality often outdoes fiction. Peter and Felicia were officially an item—it was a done deal.
Lucas couldn't help but think about who Felicia really was—the future Black Cat, one of Spider-Man's famous love interests. He even started wondering whether she'd already become the Black Cat by now. That hypersensitive sense of smell… could it be she'd sniffed Peter out because… he didn't shower enough?
Anyway, the two of them had ended up together in a whirlwind of confusion. And to be fair, Felicia really did care about Peter. She never complained, even though her boyfriend often vanished mid-date to go save the city.
Peter, on the other hand, grew to love her more and more with each act of understanding and patience. Lucas had to admit—he'd been right before. Felicia suited Peter far better than Mary Jane ever did. Not to mention, Felicia's figure was absolutely killer—taking her on a date was the kind of thing that made every other man on the street jealous.
Now, the two were head over heels in love, and with college about to start—at the same university, no less—it was basically the setup for a teen romance drama.
All of this Lucas pieced together from Skye's gossip and his own deductions—and, unfortunately for Peter, every word of it was true.
That day, the office was dead quiet. So quiet even stray dogs took one look and decided not to bother.
Lucas and Skye, however, were perfectly content. Lucas had gone full "sloth mode," refusing to move a muscle. Peaceful days like this were rare, and he intended to enjoy every minute—after all, once that certain playboy got himself kidnapped, things were going to get very busy.
Skye was just as happy. No work, free internet time, and a decent paycheck at the end of the month—what kind of job could beat that?
Without realizing it, she had started treating DevilMayCry as home. And Lucas—as family.
Just then, a curvy silhouette appeared at the door—perfect body, gorgeous face, and a sultry air that could melt steel. Who else could it be but Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself?
"Well, well~~ Looks lively in here. Is this your daily 'barely alive' routine?"
Natasha sauntered in like she owned the place, went straight to the bar, grabbed a bottle of melon juice, and two slices of Fairyberry Cheesecake. She handed one to Skye and kept one for herself, biting in with practiced elegance—completely at home.
Lucas and Skye didn't even bat an eye. Ever since the last incident, Natasha had basically moved into the same apartment. The rent was paid upfront and non-refundable, so Lucas had just turned a blind eye—as long as she didn't pull any covert ops behind his back.
"What brings you here? Don't tell me cue-ball Nick Fury sent you with a mission?!"
Lucas instantly perked up. Finally—something profitable!
Natasha didn't even flinch at the nickname. She thought it was hilariously accurate.
"Nope. Just bored. Thought I'd come down and chat."
She said it casually while savoring her cheesecake. Lucas's cooking had completely redefined her understanding of what "delicious" meant.
"Well, that's a letdown. Here I thought I'd get to make some money today. Don't tell me S.H.I.E.L.D. is this idle these days?"
Lucas slouched back into his chair again, the picture of laziness, as if glued there by invisible force.
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