Late at night in Queens.
Tandy Bowen felt certain she had gone crazy.
She was currently crouched on the roof of an abandoned warehouse, the night wind making the hood of her hoodie rustle.
She clutched a printed paper tightly in her hand, its edges already softened by her nervous sweat.
The paper bore a solemn yet comical title.
"Potential Client Risk Assessment and Preliminary Business Value Analysis Form."
At the top of the paper was the logo of "Rodriguez Risk Management Co., Ltd."
"Tyrone, any discoveries on your end?" Tandy asked in a low voice, speaking to the seemingly empty air beside her.
The Shadow behind her seemed to come alive, twisting slightly.
Tyrone Johnson's face, hidden under his hood, briefly appeared, then swiftly and silently receded into the deep darkness.
"None."
Tyrone's voice carried a hollow echo, as if coming from a great distance.
"This is terrible."
Tandy irritably ran her fingers through her golden hair, feeling her scalp tingle.
"This job is much harder than I thought."
A man with metal wings?
That sounded like a villain from a cheap sci-fi movie, one where they couldn't even bother with special effects.
And they, two superpowered teenagers with uncertain futures, were actually going to do "market research" for such an urban legend.
Hours ago, when that jerk William assigned this "internship task," she and Tyrone even had the illusion of being entrusted with a great responsibility, thinking they had received some secret mission to save the World.
And what was the result?
They were holding a form more complex than a university thesis outline, searching the cold New York midnight like two clumsy private detectives for "weirdos" who only existed in forum posts and blurry videos.
Then, they had to assess the likelihood of the other party purchasing insurance and the risk level of claims.
This was absolutely the most outrageous internship she had ever heard of.
"The boss said this is to expand the company's business scope."
Tyrone, however, was very serious, with no hint of a joke in his tone.
He seemed to have fully and willingly embraced the peculiar role of "Junior Risk Specialist."
"Business scope?" Tandy rolled her eyes. "I think he just wants to turn all the 'freaks' in New York into his clients, then comfortably lie on that island and collect money."
She looked down again at the despair-inducing form in her hand.
[Target Codename: (To be determined)]
[Ability Overview: (Requires detailed description, including energy level, physical destructive power, range of effect, etc.)]
[Personality Analysis: ______ (Assess emotional stability, willingness to communicate, potential for violence)]
[Potential Threat Level: □ Low □ Medium □ High □ Extremely High (Please circle one)]
[Estimated Insurance Potential: ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ~ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (Please rate)]
Tandy felt her mind was emptier than this form.
Where was she supposed to get all this information?
When she saw the target later, was she supposed to jump off the roof, rush up to the winged man, and politely ask, "Hey, buddy, excuse me, do you mind if I take a few minutes to assess your business value and insurance potential?"
She figured she'd be slapped to New Jersey by those metal wings before she even finished speaking.
Just as she was lost in thought, a harsh metallic scraping sound came from below.
Tandy and Tyrone immediately became alert.
They peered over and saw a tall figure in the warehouse's back alley, his back to them, cutting a pile of scrap metal with a cutting torch.
Sparks flew everywhere.
The man was wearing oil-stained dark green work clothes.
On his back was a huge metal wing, pieced together from discarded industrial parts and hydraulic pipes, with blue electric arcs faintly visible in the turbine fans.
"He's here!"
Tandy's spirits lifted.
She carefully pulled a miniature telescope from her pocket, one of William's "standard field equipment" items.
Through the lens, she clearly saw the man disassembling an anti-gravity stabilizer from a pile of what looked like the wreckage of an Osborn Industries transport fleet.
"Tyrone, record it!"
Tandy whispered, afraid the weirdo below would hear her.
Tyrone nodded, his hand, hidden in the Shadow, holding a mini camera to fully record the scene.
"Target codename... let's call him 'Vulture.' Look at his bald head; it really does look a bit like one."
Tandy observed and quickly wrote on the form.
"Ability overview... Hmm, he can fly, his strength is average, and... he has mastered the core technology of illegal modification using high-tech waste?"
"Personality analysis... He seems very focused, with a rigorous work attitude, like an old-school engineer. He hasn't shown active aggression for now."
"Potential threat level... Considering that the gadgets in his hands all come from Osborn Industries, that company is not to be trifled with. Let's choose 'Medium' for now."
"As for insurance potential..."
Tandy stroked her chin, thinking.
This man, codenamed "Vulture," judging by his clothes and work environment, clearly didn't seem like someone with a legitimate job and stable income.
He worked at high altitudes every day, dealing with high-voltage arcs and precision instruments. With such high risks, he was definitely a premium client for an insurance company.
More importantly, what he was doing was clearly ripping off Osborn Industries.
If that smiling tiger Norman Osborn found out, a single lawsuit could bankrupt him.
If he ever got caught or injured during a modification, having insurance as a safety net would secure his life.
"Insurance potential... four stars!" Tandy wrote down her conclusion. "Mainly recommend worker's compensation, property loss insurance, and legal liability insurance!"
She felt she was a business prodigy.
Just as she was feeling a hint of pride in her accurate analysis, an overly light, even joyful voice, came from above them without warning.
"Hey, you two!"
Tandy froze.
She and Tyrone, like two startled cats, suddenly looked up.
A guy in a red and blue spandex suit was hanging upside down from the flagpole above them, in a posture that defied the laws of physics.
Those iconic, large, pure White eyes blinked curiously.
"Still up so late, doing homework on the roof? Your teacher is really strict."
Spider-Man swung his legs and effortlessly jumped in front of the two.
"I've been watching you for a while."
He extended a finger, pointing to the "Vulture" still diligently working in the alley below, and asked:
"Are you monitoring that winged gentleman? FBI? CIA? Or... is it some newly formed teenage secret Agent organization?"
Tandy's mind went blank.
The plan didn't say they would encounter Spider-Man!
Tyrone reacted faster, grabbing Tandy, his body visibly about to merge into the Shadow.
"Whoa! Cool teleportation!"
Spider-Man reacted even faster, shooting a web that precisely stuck to Tandy's clothes.
He pulled hard, yanking their nearly disappearing figures out of the darkness.
"Don't be in such a hurry to leave!"
Spider-Man raised his hands, looking innocent, and said, "I mean no harm. Queens has been a bit chaotic lately, and I need to make sure everyone is... law-abiding good citizens."
His gaze fell on the form Tandy had dropped on the ground.
["Potential Client Risk Assessment and Preliminary Business Value Analysis Form"]
Spider-Man tilted his head, picked up the form, and read its contents word by word, from "Target Codename: Vulture" to "Estimated Insurance Potential: Four Stars."
The air fell into a long, eerie silence.
Spider-Man slowly looked up, his expression beneath the large White eye lenses full of confusion.
He looked at the two teenagers, nervous like small animals, then at the winged uncle still diligently "scavenging" below, and carefully asked in an uncertain tone: "So... you're from an insurance company?"
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