By the next morning, the chaotic clash between the "two Green Goblins" had already dominated every front page in New York.
Reporters were salivating, tabloids were on fire, and for once even conspiracy bloggers didn't have to make anything up.
To help readers distinguish between the two, the media decided to give Darren a new codename, the Phantom.
They'd wanted something cooler, but with that ugly Oscorp exosuit and the sickly green glow, there was only so much you could do.
Let's be honest, no one looked at that armor and thought "hero."
Even J. Jonah Jameson, the Spider-Man-hating editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle, couldn't resist.
His headline blared:
"Spider-Man and the Phantom: Their Sinister Secret Affair!"
Classic Jameson. Still obsessed. Still wrong. Still selling papers.
...
Meanwhile, Darren had delivered the unconscious Green Goblin straight to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.
For enhanced criminals like him, the organization had specialized containment protocols, a mix of high-tech cells, tranquilizers, and very big guns.
[Mission "Evil Goblin" Completed!]
[Rewards: +3000 EXP, +60 S.H.I.E.L.D. Reputation, Equipment: "Gantz Combat Suit", Items: "Dark Matter", "Banana Peel"]
[Equipment: Gantz Combat Suit , a full-body black tactical suit that drastically enhances the wearer's physical capabilities and provides moderate protection.]
[Item: Dark Matter , a mysterious dish created by Amiao; consuming it may lead to multiple adverse reactions.]
[Item: Banana Peel , throw it on the ground, and any vehicle touching it will immediately lose control.]
Darren's eyes lit up at once.
This Gantz Combat Suit, now this was something else.
On paper, it outclassed the Goblin's exosuit entirely.
Sleeker, stronger, lighter, and aside from lacking a helmet, nearly flawless.
He slipped into it without hesitation.
The matte-black material clung tightly to his body, tracing every muscle line like a second skin. It pulsed faintly, exuding a futuristic sheen of power.
In two words, painfully tight.
"Why do superheroes love spandex so much?" Darren muttered, adjusting awkwardly. "This feels like fighting naked."
Still, when he willed it to activate, the suit answered.
With a low hum, energy surged through his limbs. The tight fabric expanded as his muscles swelled with strength, his body outlined by glowing blue veins of light snaking across his joints.
It looked good. No, godlike.
"Not bad," he said, flexing his arm as raw power coursed through him.
The last time he checked his combat metrics, he could handle about four or five Matt Murdocks at once.
Now, with the Gantz Suit boosting him?
Easily ten.
The Power of Ten Matts!
Of course, that was just his gut feeling. To confirm it, he'd need to test it out properly.
"Too bad I don't have Matt's number," Darren sighed. "Would've been nice to try it on him directly."
He could feel his fingers itching, like the first time he got his hands on an RPG and couldn't rest until he'd blown something up.
He needed a test subject. Someone strong enough to be worth the data.
Steve Rogers? No, that guy's stats were cursed. Total 50-50 RNG build.
Peter? The kid's life was already tragic enough, no need to add another beating to it.
As for Hulk and Thor... well, those two were walking boss fights. Without equipment or items, challenging them was pure suicide.
Darren suddenly regretted locking up the Goblin so soon. He'd have made the perfect punching bag.
He exhaled sharply. "Fine. Let's find someone else."
He opened his interface and summoned the game's world map, locking onto the shimmering coordinates of Asgard.
A flash of light, then the familiar marble pillars of his palace solidified around him.
Everything was exactly as he'd left it.
He stepped outside, and before he could take three steps, a thunderous boom split the air.
Thor dropped from the sky, lightning crackling around him, Mjolnir in hand.
"Darren!" he roared, eyes bright with excitement. "You're finally back! Heimdall told me you returned to Midgard, is it true?"
When Darren had vanished, Thor had immediately sought Heimdall's all-seeing gaze.
The guardian's golden eyes had pierced through the Nine Realms and found Darren alive and well, back on Earth, and somehow traveling without the Bifrost.
Darren nodded casually. "Yeah. Had to go back and turn in a quest."
Thor's jaw slackened.
Realm-jumping without the Rainbow Bridge was something even Odin could barely manage, and Darren had done it like it was a daily commute.
But Darren didn't notice his awe. "Anyway, I'm looking for someone strong to spar with. You know anyone around here who fits the bill?"
Thor blinked. "Well... my father, obviously."
Darren paused.
"You want me, a low-level player, to fight the final boss?"
"I meant someone slightly weaker," Darren clarified through clenched teeth.
Thor scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... you could try the Arena. There are many Asgardian warriors there, some quite formidable. And if you reach the top ranks, Father himself bestows the rewards."
Darren's eyes gleamed.
A live PvP arena, with loot?
"Show me," he said immediately.
Thor grinned. "Gladly."
He spun Mjolnir, raising it high, and then, as naturally as breathing, reached for the back of Darren's neck to grab him by the collar.
"Whoa, whoa, hold on!" Darren sidestepped in alarm. "No neck-grabbing! I can fly on my own."
He summoned his Oscorp glider from his inventory, hopping onto it as it levitated with a faint mechanical hum.
Thor watched in awe. "Is that spatial magic? No... there's no mana flow. How curious."
"You know about magic?" Darren asked, raising a brow.
Was the blond himbo secretly a hidden mage?
"Of course," Thor said with a nostalgic smile. "Mother taught Loki and me when we were children."
At the mention of Loki, Thor's expression dimmed, sorrow flickering behind his bravado.
Darren had seen that same look before, specifically when Thor was gnawing on roasted mutton with the same tragic intensity.
He'd learned to ignore it.
"Then why don't you ever use magic?" he asked.
Thor shrugged. "Oh, I found out later that magic isn't as useful as my hammer. So I stopped learning."
Darren: "..."
Right. Definitely overestimated this man.
He said nothing more, steering his glider beside Thor as the two soared through Asgard's golden skies.
Soon, a massive circular coliseum rose in the distance, its golden arches gleaming under the sunlight. The roar of the crowd and the clang of steel grew louder as they approached.
When they landed, the sound hit like thunder, cheers, drums, the rhythmic clash of metal.
In the center of the arena, two colossal Asgardian warriors were locked in brutal combat. Each strike sent ripples of dust and sparks across the battlefield, drawing frenzied roars from the spectators.
Darren squinted and frowned.
One of them looked familiar.
"Wait a second, that's Volstagg, isn't it?"
Indeed, the rotund warrior from the Warriors Three was slugging it out like a human battering ram.
"Guess the magnetic trio finally split up," Darren muttered.
Then came the unmistakable shouts from the stands, two booming voices chanting encouragement.
He looked up.
There they were, Fandral and Hogun, waving mugs of ale and cheering their friend on.
Darren sighed. "Okay. Never mind."