Peter Parker had run five kilometers before. Usually, it involved gym class, Coach Wilson screaming about hustle and Peter trying not to wheeze a lung onto the track. It usually took him about thirty minutes of pure misery.
Today, he ran it in eighteen minutes and he wasn't even sweating.
He stood on the edge of a small park near his house, chest heaving rhythmically but not desperately. The world felt… high definition, as he could see the individual threads on his shoelaces and could smell the hot dog vendor from three blocks over specifically, he could smell that the mustard was definitely past its expiration date.
[Quest Complete: The Daily Grind]
[Rewards: 10 XP, +0.1 VIT]
A little golden chime sounded in his ear, pleasantly melodic compared to the foghorn noises of the city.
[Current Status: VIT 0.7 -> 0.8]
"Zero point eight," Peter muttered, wiping his forehead. "Great, I'm almost a whole person." He started walking back toward home, trying to act normal.
It was harder than it looked as every step felt like he was walking on trampolines and he had to consciously suppress the urge to launch himself over a fire hydrant.
As he walked, he focused on the blue screen still hovering in his periphery. He had discovered that if he squinted just right, he could minimize it to a small icon in the corner of his vision, like a minimize button on a browser window.
"Okay, System," he whispered, glancing around to make sure Mrs. Grodsky wasn't watering her petunias nearby. She was the neighborhood gossip; if she saw Peter talking to thin air, Aunt May would hear about Peter's cocaine problem before dinner. "What else can you do? Do I have a map? An inventory? Can I quick-save?"
[Command not recognized]
"Right, No saving mode.....Fantastic."
He turned the corner onto his street and froze, Sitting on his front porch steps was a familiar, hulking figure. Even from fifty yards away, Peter could identify the buzzcut and the varsity jacket that cost more than Peter's entire wardrobe.
Flash Thompson
Peter's stomach did a little flip, a reflex drilled into him over years of middle school hierarchy. Flash was the bully; Peter was the victim.
Why is he here? Did I miss a group project? Did I accidentally look at him in the hallway last week?
Peter considered ducking into the alleyway and waiting him out, but his [Spider Sense]....that weird, staticky buzz at the base of his skull was quiet. It wasn't the "Danger! Bus!" alarm; it was just a low hum. Annoyance, maybe.
He pulled his hood tighter and walked up the driveway. "Parker!" Flash shouted, jumping up. He looked… nervous? No, Flash Thompson didn't get nervous, he only got agitated. "Where have you been? I've been banging on your door for ten minutes."
"I was… running," Peter said, stopping at the bottom of the steps, he kept his distance.
Flash scoffed. "Running, you? Please...Unless you were running from a stray cat." He kicked a pebble down the stairs. "Look, Mr. Warren sent me, you missed the Science Olympiad prep meeting this morning."
"I was sick," Peter said. "Or… I am sick, Very contagious, you should probably back up."
"I don't care about your germs, Parker and Mr. Warren said if we don't submit the proposal for the robotics entry by tomorrow, we're disqualified, since you have the blueprints…" Flash trailed off, holding out a meaty hand. "Just give me the flash drive."
Peter blinked."Oh. Right,the blueprints."
He patted his pockets, Empty.....He'd left his backpack inside when he went on his hunger fueled rampage.
"It's inside," Peter said. He moved to step past Flash.
Flash, being Flash, didn't move.
He did what he always did: He put a hand on Peter's chest to stop him.
"Hold up, Puny Parker. Are you actually sweating? Did you actually try to exercise?" Flash grinned, a look that usually preceded a noogie or a shove. "Let me help you out."
Flash shoved him, Normally, this was the part where Peter stumbled back, tripped over his own feet, and landed in the bushes while Flash laughed as It was a scripted event in the chaotic RPG of Peter's life.
But Peter didn't stumble this time, when Flash's hand hit his chest, Peter's body reacted before his brain did. His feet planted themselves and his core tightened. The shove, which usually felt like a freight train, felt like a gentle breeze.
Peter didn't move an inch, Flash, expecting Peter to give way, lost his own balance, stumbling forward into Peter's personal space.
[Combat Alert: Level 2 Aggressor Detected]
[Name: Eugene "Flash" Thompson]
[Threat Level: Low]
A red reticle appeared over Flash's chest. A percentage floated next to it:
[Hit Chance: 99%].
Peter's eyes widened, don't hit him.... do not hit him. Flash recovered, looking confused. He looked at his hand, then at Peter's chest, as if Peter were made of concrete. "What the… are you wearing a brace or something?"
"I work out," Peter blurted out, It was possibly the stupidest thing he had ever said. Flash stared at him. Then he laughed. A loud, barking laugh. "You? Work out? Parker, lifting a textbook doesn't count as a deadlift." He reached out to grab Peter's hoodie. "Let's see these muscles."
[Spider-Sense Triggered]
The world slowed down, It wasn't that time stopped; it was just that Peter was easily processing everything faster. He saw Flash's hand reaching for him in slow motion. He saw the lint on Flash's jacket sleeve and saw a fly buzzing near Flash's ear, its wings beating lazily.
Move, his brain commanded.
Peter leaned back and Flash's hand swiped through empty air, inches from Peter's nose.
Flash stumbled again, overcorrecting. He swung his other arm, a clumsy grab.
Peter sidestepped but he didn't just step; he glided. He pivoted on his heel, letting Flash's momentum carry the bully right past him. Flash tripped over the bottom step and face-planted into the lawn.
The world sped back up.
"Oof!" Flash groaned, spitting out grass.
Peter stood there, horrified. "I didn't touch you!" he said quickly, raising his hands. "You fell! That was all gravity!"
Flash scrambled up, his face red. His ego was bruised, which was far more dangerous than a bruised knee. "You little freak! You tripped me!"
[Quest Generated: The Bully Beatdown]
* Objective: Defeat Flash Thompson in single combat
* Reward: 50 XP, +2 Reputation (School)
[Alternative Quest:The Diplomat]
* Objective: De-escalate the situation without violence.
* Reward: 20 XP, +1 INT.
Peter looked at the options, Fifty XP sounded nice and he could probably level up but punching Flash… god, the temptation was sweet, it was like a forbidden fruit dipped in chocolate. But then he looked at Flash's fist. He thought about the crushed desk. If he hit Flash, he wouldn't just give him a black eye but might cave his skull in.
Diplomacy it is.
"Flash, stop!" Peter yelped, backing up toward the door. "I'm serious! I think I have… mono! Infectious mono! If you touch me, you'll be too sick to play in the game on Friday!"
Flash froze,the mention of the Game was his kryptonite, Football was life....Mono was death.
"You… you have mono?" Flash took a step back, wiping his hands on his jeans as if the grass had been contaminated.
"Yes! Doctor said it's the… uh… the Gamma strain..... Very bad and my spleen is huge..... Enormous." Peter gestured vaguely to his midsection.
Flash looked at him with a mix of disgust and self-preservation. "Gross, Parker, Keep your diseased fluids to yourself." He pointed a warning finger. "Just email me the blueprint today Or you're dead meat."
Flash turned and jogged to his car, clearly trying to outrun the invisible mono germs.
Peter exhaled, slumping against the doorframe.
[Quest Complete: The Diplomat]
[Rewards: 20 XP, +1 INT]
"I am the master of persuasion," Peter muttered to himself. "Gamma strain mono....Genius."
He unlocked the front door and stepped into the cool quiet of the house. He needed to find that flash drive but first, he needed to check something.
He went to the living room and found the old, heavy vacuum cleaner Aunt May refused to replace. It was a beast of a machine, solid steel and outdated motor, weighing at least thirty pounds.
Peter grabbed the handle with one hand and he lifted, it came up as easily as a pillow and he curled it....One, two, three reps.
"Okay," Peter whispered, a grin spreading across his face despite the fear. "Okay, that's cool, that is objectively cool."
He set the vacuum down.
[System Notice: New Skill Available for Unlock]
[Skill: Inspect (Lvl 1)]
* Cost: 50 XP
* Description: Allows the user to analyze the structural integrity and composition of objects.
Peter checked his XP, he had 10 from the run and 20 from avoiding the fight, that was 30 welp he was short.
"I need twenty more XP," he murmured. "How do I get XP without fighting people?"
He looked around the living room, his eyes landed on a pile of unwashed dishes in the sink visible through the kitchen archway.
A small grey icon appeared over the sink: [Daily Chore: Dishes].
Peter sighed. "Of course, the System is basically just Aunt May with a user smart interface."
He rolled up his sleeves, "Alright then... Let's grind."
Authors Note:-
Well thats chapter 2.
Hope you guys are enjoying this .
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