Less than a minute after Silas rushed home, Ben Parker and Peter returned.
"How are you two together?" Aunt May asked as she opened the door.
Ben Parker patted Peter's shoulder, signaling him to explain. "I ran into Peter on the way home from work."
After the two walked inside, Aunt May went to the kitchen to bring out dinner.
"Did Peter make any new friends today?" Aunt May asked happily.
Peter looked startled, then became somewhat flustered.
"Well, I hope you can make more friends next time."
Aunt May thought Peter hadn't made new friends at the club, unaware that Peter simply didn't know how to answer.
"Where is Silas?" Ben Parker asked after putting away his coat.
Aunt May looked upstairs and called out, "Silas! Dinner is ready!"
"Coming!" Silas immediately came downstairs.
The family of four began their meal, but the atmosphere at the dinner table was awkward.
Peter was worried about how to buy gifts for the family with only five hundred dollars.
Ben Parker was worried about Aunt May discovering the incident from earlier.
Aunt May didn't know what to say, as she felt that both Ben Parker and Peter were acting strange.
"What's wrong, everyone?" Silas broke the silence first.
As the person who understood most of what was happening, Silas felt obligated to break the deadlock.
"Uh... nothing. Silas, did you finish your report?" Peter asked, changing the subject.
"Finished. The teacher was very satisfied." Peter knew about Silas's previous issue with the report.
Ben Parker asked, "What report?"
"Nothing important," Silas quickly replied, shaking his head. He knew he'd be in serious trouble if Uncle Ben found out.
The dinner finished in this strange atmosphere.
Silas's Room
"Peter, what brings you here?" Silas was sitting at his desk, finishing his homework for the day.
Peter sat on Silas's bed and said, "Silas, I might not be able to get you a gift yet."
"What's wrong?" Silas asked, genuinely curious this time.
Peter shook his head. "It's nothing, but don't worry, I promise I'll get it for you by your birthday."
"Thanks in advance, Peter!" Silas held out his fist.
Peter smiled and bumped fists with Silas. "I'm going back to my room now. Take your time finishing your homework."
"Okay, Peter." Silas watched Peter leave his room.
Once Peter was gone, Silas began thinking about the gift. Based on Peter's allowance, he definitely shouldn't have enough money to buy him a gift.
"Oh~" Silas suddenly realized. Peter must have gone to participate in the boxing match.
So, did that crooked boxing ring cheat Peter out of his money?
"How interesting~" Silas continued writing his homework, a plan formulating in his mind.
10 P.M.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Come in!"
Click~
Ben Parker walked into the room. Seeing Silas still diligently working under the desk lamp, he said reassuringly, "Silas, it's time to rest. You don't want to be tired for school tomorrow."
"Yes, Uncle Ben." Silas put his notebook away. "Goodnight, Uncle Ben."
"Goodnight, Silas. May you have sweet dreams," Ben Parker said, then turned off the light for Silas.
Click! Ben Parker left.
Silas knew it was time for the black veil of night to descend!
He quickly put on his suit, with the Shadow Blade strapped to his waist.
High-Rises
Whoosh~ Whoosh~
The night breeze blew over Silas on the tower apex.
"Peter wouldn't go somewhere too far, so that underground boxing ring should be on one of the nearby streets."
Silas began searching for nearby underground fighting rings. For efficiency, he summoned a total of one hundred ninjas.
Many hands make light work. In less than three minutes, they located an underground wrestling arena.
"Wrestling arena?" Silas walked into the establishment.
"Here for a match? If you want to challenge someone, go over there," the man at the door said, pointing to a room ahead.
Silas walked straight to the indicated room. When he entered, he saw four people seated inside.
"Registration for challenges is closed now," a staff member said.
Silas ignored him and walked up to him. "Did a robbery happen here today?"
"Hmm?" Silas's question instantly made all four people nervous.
"It seems so," Silas chuckled.
The staff member suddenly pulled a pistol from a drawer. "Get out! And if you're here to steal money too, be ready to die!"
This was an illegal underground wrestling arena; a death here was barely an inconvenience. Because of the earlier robber, he had been extra cautious and kept a gun in the drawer.
SHING!
Those present only saw a flash of the blade. The staff member standing in front of Silas had his gun-holding hand severed.
"Ah!" The staff member cried out in pain and collapsed onto his knees.
"Don't move!" The security guards outside were already prepared. They rushed into the room, aiming their guns at Silas.
Silas remained calm, putting the sword away and walking toward the security personnel.
Afraid of hitting their own people in the narrow room, they were hesitant to shoot.
Just as Silas sheathed his sword, they lowered their guns, preparing to fight him hand-to-hand.
But they were no match for Silas. Silas was like a tiger charging into a flock of sheep, completely overwhelming them.
In less than a minute, Silas had dealt with all the security personnel in the room, though he had not killed them.
BANG!
Silas tilted his head, dodging a bullet from behind.
"No!"
It turned out that the injured staff member, taking advantage of Silas's distraction, had picked up the gun with his left hand, aimed it at Silas's head, and pulled the trigger.
He couldn't believe Silas had dodged it.
Silas quickly drew his sword. The Shadow Blade let out a crisp ring in his hand before plunging into the staff member's chest.
The staff member looked down at his chest in disbelief, his face showing unwillingness, before falling to the ground.
The other three men were huddled in a corner, too terrified to resist.
Silas walked to the table, pulled out the Shadow Blade, sheathed it, and counted the money on the table—a total of four thousand five hundred dollars.
"Goodbye," Silas said, turning to leave, taking an envelope with him on the way out.
Once Silas had completely left, the surviving men were bewildered.
"He! He only took a few bills!"
"I thought we were dead for sure!"
"The Lord has protected us!"
"I said we shouldn't be greedy like Hoffis! See! Now a rival has come for revenge!"
"..."
The surviving men unanimously concluded that it was Hoffis's decision to withhold the new fighter's prize money that had caused this rival to seek revenge.
Outside
Silas found a payphone and dialed his home's landline number.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"Hello?" Aunt May asked, sounding puzzled. Who would call so late?
"I need to speak to Peter Parker." Silas's voice, masked by his helmet, sounded different from his own.
"Peter Parker?" Aunt May found the voice odd.
"Peter!" Aunt May called out to Peter. Since the call was for him, she called him over.
Peter quickly came to Aunt May, having been preparing to go to sleep.
"It's for you," Aunt May handed the phone to Peter.
"Someone is calling for me?" Peter took the phone, confused. "Hello?"
"Hello, Peter Parker. I'm a staff member from the underground wrestling arena," Silas said.
Hearing "wrestling arena," Peter instantly tensed up, glancing at Aunt May, who was watching him.
Peter tried to keep his tone level. "What do you want? How did you get my number?"
"It's nothing, just returning four thousand five hundred dollars to you. We've delivered it to your mailbox. Check it tomorrow morning."
Silas hung up the phone immediately after speaking.
Home
Peter slowly put down the phone. How did they get my contact information and home address?
He had filled out a registration form, but he wasn't stupid enough to put his real information on a form for an underground fighting ring. He had made up random details before the match.
"What is it, Peter?" Aunt May noticed the strange look on Peter's face.
"It's nothing, Aunt May. Just a new friend I met called. I was just wondering how he managed to contact me."
Peter forced a smile and gently pushed Aunt May. "Aunt May, go get some rest."
"Alright."
Front Gate
Silas walked up to the mailbox and slid the envelope containing the cash inside.
"Goodnight, Peter."
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