Uncle Ben nodded in agreement. "He's a great kid."
Hearing Uncle Ben and Aunt May's words, Peter tried hard to keep his expression calm and stop the corners of his mouth from curling up.
He gave a slight nod, pretending to sound casual. "Yeah, he's pretty amazing."
Just then, the front door opened. Aunt May called out in surprise and delight, "Harry, you're back!"
But the joy on Peter's face froze, because he saw the slightly strange smile on Harry's face.
Crap. Harry had definitely heard what they'd just been talking about. And of course, he'd be able to guess that Spider-Man was him.
Peter's smile stiffened on his face. So this is what social death feels like?
After the family finished dinner, Peter went back to his room. Not long after, there was a knock at the door.
He opened it nervously. Sure enough, it was Harry.
Harry walked into Peter's room, sat down on the chair, turned it around to face him, and just stared at Peter without saying a word. It was very obvious he was waiting for Peter to explain first.
Peter raised both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I admit it. I'm Spider-Man!"
Harry waved his hand, and a cabinet was dragged out from under the bed. A moment later, a piece of clothing flew out of it.
The suit was primarily bright red and blue, woven from a special elastic material.
On the chest, a large, ornate white spider emblem stood out clearly—the very same suit Spider-Man wore in the news reports.
Harry fixed Peter with a stern look. "Peter, Tony used to call me 'Pajama Kid'. I'm starting to think that nickname might suit you better.
You've been sneaking out at night all this time, hiding it from me and Uncle Ben and Aunt May, playing superhero and fighting crime. Have you ever thought about how dangerous that is?
If something happened to you, have you thought about what that would do to Uncle Ben and Aunt May?"
Even though Peter had the superpowers given to him by the Web of Fate, and the magic he'd borrowed, it didn't mean nothing could ever go wrong.
Blades and bullets had no eyes. One careless moment, a bullet to the heart or the head, and even Peter could die.
Harry absolutely couldn't guarantee he could resurrect the dead—much less if it turned into a tug-of-war with God or Satan over Peter's soul.
If he had a choice, of course he didn't want his brother running around outside risking his life.
"Sorry, Harry…" Peter apologized right away, but it was obvious he had no intention of stopping his work as a street vigilante. "I still want to keep being Spider-Man—the friendly neighborhood of New York."
Harry didn't rush to argue. He simply waited quietly for Peter to explain.
Peter knew he had to convince Harry. If Harry told Uncle Ben and Aunt May about this, there was no way they would let him keep risking his life.
Peter forced his brain into overdrive, organizing his thoughts.
"Do you remember? I once wanted to learn magic too. But my talent was nothing compared to yours, and the Ancient One turned me down.
I was really upset back then. The Ancient One comforted me and told me I'd become an incredible person someday, that I was destined to be extraordinary.
For a long time I thought that was just something she said to make me feel better. But then, not long ago, after I got my spider powers, I realized I really do have that kind of strength. I can be someone extraordinary too—just like you."
He paused to catch his breath, then went on:
"I'm afraid of dying too, you know. I'm scared of getting hurt. I don't like pain.
When I was hesitating, Mr. Stark stood up in front of everyone and said, 'I am Iron Man.'
He gave me direction. He made me understand something—that with great power comes great responsibility.
My idol, Mr. Stark, fights criminals and protects world peace. He has that power.
You, Harry, kill abyssal demons in the realm of magic and protect the Earth. You have that power too.
So what about me? Now I've got that power as well.
I grew up in New York. Every brick and stone here holds my memories. So I decided to stand up, to do everything I can to protect the peace of New York, to be the city's friendly neighbor and become a superhero like you two.
I don't want to fall too far behind you."
Peter watched Harry nervously, not sure if he'd managed to persuade his brother.
After a moment, Harry suddenly broke into a bright smile.
So the Ancient One had been right after all. Peter really did have special potential. All he'd needed was a catalyst to transform.
That kind of turning point was something you couldn't force—but Peter already had it now.
So what reason did Harry have left to hold him back?
He stood up and hugged his brother. "I won't stop you. But you have to remember, when you're out there as a vigilante, you must be careful. Don't you dare make Uncle Ben and Aunt May cry.
If you ever run into someone you really can't beat, call me. I'll do everything I can to help you."
"Of course. I'm not stupid."
The two of them burst out laughing and, in perfect sync, both pulled out their game consoles.
They weren't old Earth models, but high-tech consoles Harry had brought back from Asgard, loaded with tons of fun games.
Even now, Harry was only just barely a legal adult himself, and games were still one of his main ways to relax.
By the time Harry finished washing up and went back to his bedroom, it was already midnight.
He suddenly looked out the window and saw a red-and-blue figure swinging away into the distance on webs in the night.
Harry shook his head slightly. It seemed Peter really did love playing the role of Spider-Man, New York's friendly neighbor.
Going out to fight crime at this hour—wasn't he worried he wouldn't be able to get up tomorrow and would be late for class?
Harry suddenly recalled part of the news report about Spider-Man. Spider-Man and Peter were clearly the same person, but unlike introverted, socially anxious Peter, Spider-Man was a complete chatterbox.
Sometimes what criminals hated most wasn't getting caught by Spider-Man, but having to listen to his nonstop talking.
Thinking of that, Harry's expression turned a bit odd. Could it be that once Peter put on the mask and didn't have to worry about being recognized, his true personality finally came out?
Yeah, that seemed very likely.
"Since Peter's already working hard and moving toward becoming a qualified superhero, I've got to step up my game too," Harry thought.
He needed to keep researching new magic.
Just as Harry was pondering how to construct an even more powerful magical structure, a series of explosions suddenly boomed outside.
Boom, boom, boom!
Harry immediately thought of Peter, who had just gone out. Peter would definitely head for the blast site to check things out, which meant there was a good chance he'd be in danger.
Whether it was to protect Peter or to keep the civilians safe, Harry decided he had to go take a look. It wouldn't take him long anyway.
Harry opened a portal and stepped through.
Judging by the sound, the explosions were probably in Harlem, Manhattan. So he chose to open the portal into a secluded alley there. He should be able to arrive before Peter.
But when he stepped out of the portal, what greeted him wasn't a dark, damp alleyway.
It was an ancient, gloomy underground classroom.
A mixed scent of fresh herbs and strange magical reagents hit him all at once.
Harry realized that, somehow, he had crossed back to the wizarding world at that exact moment—and he had arrived right in the middle of his Potions class.
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