A flicker of doubt rose in Harry's chest—he really had met George before.
In the past, George would occasionally drive over to pick up and drop off Gwen. Over time, they'd run into each other more than a few times.
But the expression on George's face right now clearly wasn't the kind of reaction that came from just a handful of brief encounters. There was obviously something else behind it.
Harry suddenly remembered Gwen mentioning that her father was the head of the New York police. A guess surfaced at once—had George seen the footage of Harry fighting Abomination?
During that battle, Harry had deliberately concealed a few things, but it had really only amounted to a minor disguise of his appearance.
He did it for one simple reason: he didn't want to be bothered for no reason in his everyday life later on.
After all, the upper ranks of the government had long since known his true identity. To the people standing at the top of the power structure, information about him wasn't a secret—there was no need to hide it.
But George, as the head of the New York police, clearly wasn't someone with the clearance to touch top-level government secrets.
So the way George was looking at him right now was probably exactly what Harry suspected: relying on years of investigative experience, judging from clothing and movements, he was starting to suspect that Harry might be the mysterious sorcerer from that battle video.
Now Harry hesitated a little.
He didn't know whether he should expose his identity as a sorcerer in front of Gwen's family.
After thinking it through, he decided to let things happen naturally.
Because on a first visit, bluntly telling Gwen's family that he was the heir to the world's number-one violent organization… even imagining that scene felt absurd.
That really wasn't great.
But Harry also knew—being honest with Gwen had become urgent.
Lately, their feelings had been heating up fast. They already liked each other—really liked each other.
He genuinely couldn't imagine what Gwen's reaction would be if, someday, she discovered his true identity without any warning.
That scene might be hilarious… or it might be absolute hell.
Also not great.
And besides, there was something extremely important: Harry also wanted to see whether Gwen had any talent for magic.
Recently, he had access to many different kinds of magical aptitudes—Kamar-Taj magic, wizarding magic, rune magic, and fate-weaving web magic.
Among these wildly different styles, there had to be one that suited Gwen perfectly.
He simply couldn't picture sweet, adorable Gwen being like Uncle Ben and Peter—having zero talent for magic, a crude magical idiot.
Gwen was so cute—she had to become an excellent sorcerer!
He had complete confidence in her!
Thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning. Yet in the real world, all of it happened in just a few seconds. To anyone watching, Harry had only spaced out for a brief moment.
Very quickly, he came back to himself. A warm, sincere, extremely friendly smile appeared on his face—one that naturally made people like him.
He leaned forward slightly, polite without losing enthusiasm. "Uncle George, I've seen you a few times before, when you came to school to pick up and drop off Gwen."
George had only asked casually. In his heart, that mysterious sorcerer could never be the same person as the young man in front of him.
Not to mention—this kid was Gwen's boyfriend. His not-yet-official son-in-law, and already a source of endless irritation.
The moment he thought of that, an unnamed fire surged up in George's chest, his teeth grinding audibly.
Even though Harry was undeniably handsome and really did look likable, in George's eyes right now, every one of those "advantages" had turned into evidence of guilt.
All he could think was: how the hell did this brat manage to steal his precious daughter?
The more George thought about it, the angrier he got. The dislike in his gaze deepened by several degrees.
With nowhere to vent his frustration, George was just about to open his mouth and make things awkward for the kid who'd run off with his daughter—
When Gwen's mother, Helen, noticed the commotion at the doorway. Delight flashed in her eyes, and she trotted over.
Don't be fooled—Helen wasn't nearly as big as George, smaller by a whole size. But with one light shove, she nudged George aside like he wasn't even there.
Compared to George, Helen's attitude toward Harry was downright enthusiastic.
She grabbed Harry's hand intimately, her eyes sweeping over his face and then his body, nodding again and again. The satisfaction on her expression practically overflowed.
With a face like Harry's, anyone would be unable to resist taking a few extra looks.
And Gwen had said he was gentle-tempered, and a top student with excellent grades.
Thinking of that, Helen couldn't help sighing silently. She shot George a subtle glance and couldn't stop herself from comparing—how come she never met a boy this perfect when she was young?
With that thought, Helen quietly looked down on George for half a second, then smiled brightly beside Harry and eagerly launched into conversation.
"Harry, tell me about your family. And—what sports do you like?"
Helen was so enthusiastic that Gwen, the daughter, almost seemed forgotten in the corner.
Watching her mother chatting happily with Harry, Gwen felt a sting of jealousy.
She puffed her lips slightly, brows knitting, and spoke in a lightly coquettish tone. "Mom, I'm still here, you know. Don't forget—we invited Harry over for dinner today!"
Only then did Helen snap back to reality. She lightly patted her forehead, an apologetic look on her face, and turned to Harry.
"Sweetheart, you and Gwen sit here for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon. I'm not some world-class chef, but my cooking isn't bad. I'm sure you'll like it!"
The mighty chaos dominator nodded obediently and smiled. "Okay. Thank you, Aunt Helen."
Harry didn't have to wait long. Helen and George came out of the kitchen and set the dishes on the dining table.
To be fair, Helen wasn't lying. Her cooking might not compare to house-elves, but at this level, she was absolutely in the "chef" tier.
While they ate, Helen's gaze kept drifting toward Harry. Seeing how happily he was eating, the corners of her lips lifted, and she spoke as if it were casual:
"Gwen's been learning to cook with me. Her skills are basically as good as mine now. In the future, whichever young man marries her will be in for a treat!"
Hearing that, Harry's mouth curved into a bright, open smile as he met Helen's eyes without hesitation.
Beside him, Gwen's face instantly flushed like a fire cloud, the blush racing from her cheeks all the way to her ears.
They both understood what Helen meant—and neither of them denied it.
George had just put a drumstick in his mouth. The moment he saw this, it instantly tasted like nothing.
Just as everyone sat around the table in a warm, harmonious mood, the TV suddenly played a news broadcast:
"Just moments ago, our city's hero Spider-Man successfully took down a gang of bank robbers in one sweep.
What's worth noting is that this incident has caught the attention of Iron Man, Tony Stark. He stated that he will personally tailor a high-tech suit for Spider-Man, to help him better protect the city."
At that, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Harry's mouth.
As expected—the Sorcerer Supreme had been right. Peter really was a born hero; he'd just been missing an opportunity.
Now the hardest part of that opportunity had been filled in. He had truly become a superhero—New York's friendly neighborhood.
These days, the moment Peter had free time, he'd run off outside. You could barely even see his shadow at home.
If Harry hadn't told Uncle Ben and Aunt May in advance that Peter was Spider-Man, they definitely would've been worried sick.
As for Tony publicly saying he'd give Spider-Man a high-tech suit—this was actually Harry's request.
Otherwise, with Tony's usual style, when would he ever have the time to personally design a suit for some total stranger?
Unless that person was his never-before-met biological son!
"Hmph!" George snorted. His already ugly expression turned even frostier. He curled his lip, face full of disdain. "What an annoying spider. Jumping around all day, doing illegal things. Who knows how much trouble he's caused the police."
"No, Dad, you're wrong!" For some reason, a powerful impulse surged up from deep inside Gwen. She instinctively wanted to refute him, as if pulled by fate itself. "Spider-Man is absolutely a hero. He fights crime and punishes criminals that detectives can't handle!"
George's face was full of dissatisfaction, his tone dripping with contempt as he blurted out, "That's pure criminal behavior. He doesn't have law enforcement authority. He just barges into cases whenever he wants. If that isn't messing around, what is?"
At that moment, Helen unhurriedly set down her fork and knife, her movements gentle, her voice calm.
"No. I support Gwen. Spider-Man is a righteous superhero."
Her voice was light, not loud at all—yet it was like a towering mountain pressing down on George's chest, dousing his anger with a bucket of cold water. The rebuttal stuck in his throat, choking him until his face turned red.
George could only glare at Harry, who was quietly holding back laughter, and snapped in embarrassment, "And you? What do you think of Spider-Man?"
In just that brief exchange, Harry already knew exactly who held absolute authority in this household.
So he answered without hesitation: "I also think Spider-Man is a superhero."
In truth, Harry thought Peter was just a clumsy little kid—hardly what you'd call a superhero.
But with the situation like this, stroking Aunt Helen's ego was definitely the safest move!
Sure enough, Helen was delighted by Harry's answer and smiled in satisfaction.
Beaming, Helen kept serving food onto Harry's plate.
And thus, the world where only George got hurt was achieved.
Harry ate his fill and felt completely satisfied.
After dinner, while Aunt Helen cleaned up the dishes, she urged them out for a walk.
Harry and Gwen wandered to a nearby park. Along the way, at some point, Harry took Gwen's soft, delicate hand.
Gwen's face instantly reddened, her heart full of shy sweetness. She didn't pull away at all—letting Harry lead her toward the dim little grove.
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