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Reborn as the Spider who bit Peter Parker

Reborn as the Spider who bit Peter Parker and took over his body, as befits a high-spirited parasite, well, or the man who was reborn.... patreon.com/FanFictionPremium

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Part 11

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***

For almost a whole week, doing routine, studying, and the occasional walk with the redheaded miss, I waited and monitored the news, but everything was silent, not even a single line about the theft from Stark's warehouses or that they had found anything interesting. The network was quiet, so I didn't worry about it, but quietly collected jammers of various kinds and EMP emitters to return to the underground and thoroughly examine my trophies.

Having got out one moonless night to my improvised base, I was surprised to find no one, which was actually strange. Was it that no one cared about the incident? And according to the news, even Rhino hadn't been caught, and he couldn't have got far for a number of reasons. So the big guy really wasn't lying about the connections, so maybe it's true about Ambal, too? Checking everything once again, I started jamming and EMP emitter, because God protects the careful, and at least paranoia doesn't happen a lot, so it never hurts to be reassured.

Thoughtfully studying Rhino's suit, I was more and more inclined to think that it really was a walking tank. There was a minimum of electronics in it, and what there was had a purely practical and moderately multifunctional approach.

Many systems were duplicated several times, so that this behemoth could function at half capacity, and various servos and powerful motors were located wherever possible. Synthetic muscles were also present. They played the role of a kind of gasket between electronics and armour, preventing minor damage from disabling the entire system.

The most curious thing was that this dangerous toy was powered by a hybrid reactor, very similar to Stark's work. True, I'd call it a Chinese knockoff with extremely low efficiency, rather than some analogue of an arc reactor. Still, I wonder how they managed to replicate the experience of our iron man, and most importantly, where did they get the prototype for their research?

However, if one of them managed to do it, I can do it too. All that remains is to figure out how they did it all, and at the same time to tighten the necessary knowledge. Enough about the suit. So far the technologies of arc reactor are not available to me, and resource-production capacities are not enough, so let's leave it all for later. Returning to the Stark-labelled crates, I began another unpacking session. There were weapons as well as various equipment. On the whole, I didn't need either one. And the equipment was strictly medical, and I wasn't going to be needing that anytime soon.

Using Ozcorp's anonymous networking app, I quietly found the keys I needed and connected to the Grey Network. Exploring the various online marketplaces, I came across one very interesting 'flea market' where comrades from the IRA, or Irish Revolutionary Army, a kind of paramilitary union of radical militants, were hanging out. Having corresponded with a couple of field commanders, whose bet was right in New York, I quietly sold the car with weapons, giving the Irish coordinates as soon as they transferred the entire amount to an anonymous wallet. Next on the list was the equipment, which was kindly sold to one of the Somali splinters for about half the price. Let's consider it as a kind of humanitarian aid to starving Africa, not to sell them weapons? And, if you think about it, they have enough without us. After any civil war, there's a sea of it left, so the Irish rebels get the guns, and at a reasonable price too.

A little freed up, I wandered around New York looking for a trainer, club or whatever suited my needs. But all of them were too weak or incompetent, or somewhere just plain stupid.

- You really think you can beat Scorpius's best student? - A young man with a sneering face said mockingly.

I grinned back at him and offered to test his strength, so that he would be a little less cocky, because he should know not to underestimate any enemy, no matter how young he looked. And there will always be someone stronger or smarter than you in the world, that's how life is.

With ostensible leisureliness I stepped on the tatami, I expected the first blow from my opponent, and being confident in my own strength, he did not wait long. Accustomed to speeding up, I saw all his blows ahead. He was not bad in the execution of his techniques, but the arrogance still needs to be slightly reduced.

Catching and immediately fixing his arm, I technically break it so that the recovery process would take as long as possible, and immediately move away. The uncomprehending enemy didn't even realise that he had lost his arm for the next few months, but the adrenaline in his blood didn't let him feel the pain fully.

Again catching the moment, but already with a leg as technically grabbed and fixed it, as instantly breaking it. Only a couple of minutes of battle, and this 'master' is already immobilised and weakly crawling backwards as far away from me as possible. I calmly put my heel on his throat, waiting for the best pupil to ask for mercy, three seconds of languid waiting and he's pounding on the mattress with eyes full of horror.

- You've got a pretty good base. - some bloke said sparingly. - With such data, Scorpius would love to teach you everything else. - continued the young man. - Maybe you should become an apprentice after all. - he said thoughtfully.

- No.

- Then I'll give you the address of a Russian. His dojo specialises in tough guys. You'll like it there, so good luck... - the guy smiled, not sincerely at all, and quickly wrote down the address on some napkin from a pan-Asian restaurant.

With a grateful nod to the stranger, I left the next place, crossing it off my list.

After searching all the available addresses, I decided to go to see this Russian. Once in Brooklyn on John Street, I found the right club, but it was closed. Having learnt from the locals the schedule of this Victor, I wandered around Brooklyn for a while and still caught this coach.

Victor turned out to be a big, burly guy, who looked like he had enough testosterone for a dozen men like you. Having hung his black coat right on the boxing bag, he indifferently walked deep into the hall, completely ignoring my presence. Slowly going about his business and slowly doing various katas, he ignored me for another couple of hours. Well, I have time, so let's see what this master is made of as well.

- Get out of here. - After another three hours, he said laconically.

So it can talk? The ice is broken, as they say. Well, it's time for another test.

- Accept me as an apprentice, I'm even ready to pass your test! And if it doesn't work out, then so be it, I'll leave. - I habitually turned on the broken record, taking into account all the past mistakes when communicating with 'masters'.

- Hm... - nodding sullenly in the direction of the ring, the big guy didn't say anything.

What a curious character, though. Seeing how he threw off his shirt and remained only in a white T-shirt, worn jeans and army boots, I also hurried to the ring. I wonder if he's really as good as they say he is. If so, I've found myself a trainer.

Smiling contentedly, I took a direct hit to the face in the first second of sparring. Admittedly, I felt like I'd been hit by a rubbish truck, and that was only by feel. Not even a second later, I was being kicked, and each one was stronger than the last. What kind of animal is he?

Barely keeping up with his speed, I was starting to get the thrill of the fight, so this was the thrill of the battle? No sooner had the lonely thought passed through my mind than my opponent delivered a chopping blow in a leap, and I was slammed straight into the ring.

- You are too weak, and I don't teach Kyokushin to the weak. When you gain strength, then come and we'll discuss the way of samurai. - Victor said, silently extending his hand to me. I didn't even take it in surprise at my loss, and he only hummed.

- Thank you for teaching me, I'll be stronger...' I could only say, hastily analysing the state of my organs, my head concussion and other small things. I just nodded, and to be honest, I didn't expect anything like this. Like I said, there's always someone stronger, right?

- Get out of here. - the master said dryly.

I left the hall with a limp and decided to call a taxi, because it would take time to recover. But I had spent a good day and solved many questions that had already accumulated. Comfortably settled in the taxi, I saw the Russian name on the licence and just grinned. So many countrymen per square metre. Listening to the local news on the radio, I picked out something about a familiar Lizard.

- A huge monster from the sewers is terrorising the city. Where are the public, the police and the city agglomeration looking? What's next, you ask? Well, I'll tell you, because tonight we're going to have not only an overgrown lizard and bank robbers with alien weapons, but also a nutcase in a flight suit. What a load of rubbish, you say? And I'll say it again: it's the evening news with J. Jonah Jameson. And who would have thought there would be anything crazier than a psychotic guy in a heavy rhino armour suit? - Jameson was as emotional and enthusiastic as ever with outrage that such horror was happening in the city.

As I listened thoughtfully to the radio, I wondered what I could get out of this Lizard. There was a reason the drones were after him that time, wasn't there? But first I should rest, recover a little, and maybe have something tasty to eat and some invigorating coffee, because that Russian had beaten me up pretty good. When I got home, I found May in the kitchen cooking something. Sneaking up quietly and hugging her from behind, I asked quietly:

- What are we having for dinner tonight? - A surprised May almost gave me an extremely close encounter with an extremely long knife from the kitchen set.

- Don't scare me like that. - She said sternly. - It's turkey tonight. Why are you so battered? Is it that rascal Flash Thompson again? - May looked intently into my eyes. - Is everything all right, Peter? - Auntie asked more warmly.

- Yes, I overdid it a bit in training. - I answered honestly.

- Hmm? Since when did you decide to take up sports? I can't believe what I'm hearing. Peter Parker, and no science? - May smiled wryly.

- There's a first time for everything. - I snicker ironically at her words. - And who said I was quitting science? And bruises and abrasions are just a 'nice' bonus to keep my body toned.

- Then go wash your hands and have dinner, fighter. - She smiled warmly.

I nodded understandingly and hurried to the bathtub. I could use a shower, too, because I'd spent the whole day in the middle of nowhere, but I'd found the perfect cover. All I had to do was get into the apprenticeship, and I wasn't afraid of bruises and abrasions. After I finished my bath, I hurried to have dinner with Mei.