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Chapter - Birth of Spider-Man

Ned's chubby face contorted with frustration as he added with a sigh, "The furthest distance in the world isn't between the ends of the earth and the sea, but the unawareness that she also has a crush on you."

Donald was momentarily stunned, then shook his head incredulously. "You mean she's interested too... no, that's impossible..."

Ned grinned knowingly. "Nothing's impossible. As an observer, I can see it clearer than you—she's definitely into you. And you're obviously into her. Don't be dense."

Donald fell silent for a moment, then sighed in resignation. "I'm such a lame guy."

"Nonsense, you're only physically impaired," Ned reassured him. "Franklin Roosevelt couldn't move his legs either, yet he was adored by countless people."

He patted Donald on the shoulder encouragingly. "Have confidence, man. I expect to see you two coming out of that hotel tomorrow morning."

"Impossible..." Donald blushed again, glancing at his crutches.

"Hey, Peter!" Ned called out eagerly as Peter Parker approached.

Donald joined Peter's side.

"How did it go? What did the teacher say?" Donald inquired.

Peter appeared visibly dejected, shaking his head. "The teacher wants my uncle to come in."

"That's it?" Ned questioned.

Peter remained silent.

Ned nudged him playfully on the chest, exclaiming, "Seriously, you did an amazing job today! That jerk needed to be put in his place!"

Donald hesitated. "Peter, how did you do it?"

"What?" Peter seemed evasive, feigning ignorance.

Donald pressed on, more seriously this time. "I mean, suddenly you seem so much stronger."

"...Before, the three of us couldn't even take down Thompson on the basketball court. But today, you not only beat him easily but also shattered the backboard with that dunk. How did you do it?"

The trio—Ned, Donald, and Peter—were all physically feeble, especially when it came to combat, and they definitely wouldn't fare well on the basketball court. After all, basketball required skill and adherence to rules, areas in which even the cheerleaders might outshine them.

Against all odds, however, Peter Parker, often seen as the school nerd, had unleashed an unexpected display of athleticism. Not only did he stand up to Flash Thompson, who had bullied him on the court, but he also executed a trapeze-level dunk that shattered the backboard on impact.

This act of defiance resulted in Peter being summoned to the principal's office, where his uncle was now required to appear.

For their classmates, the issue of parental involvement was of no consequence; everyone was captivated by Peter's unforeseen prowess on the basketball court.

Donald was intrigued, as was Ned. "Yeah, Peter, how did you do it?"

"Um... practice," Peter stuttered.

Ned frowned. "Are you saying you've secretly been practicing basketball without us?"

Peter hesitated, "No, I didn't mean to keep it from you. I just... never brought it up."

Donald asked again, more earnestly, "How long have you been practicing?"

"About two and a half years," Peter Parker replied casually.

Ned was incredulous. "Good Lord, you've been playing basketball for two and a half years, and we had no clue!"

"Well, sorry, guys," Peter apologized.

Ned added, "You better take us along next time. I want to break the backboard like you did."

"Sure thing," Peter agreed.

In reality, Peter wasn't just an ordinary basketball enthusiast who had been training for years. His newfound abilities stemmed from being bitten by a genetically modified spider in a laboratory, resulting in his body undergoing mutations that endowed him with superhuman strength, speed, and unusual abilities.

Now, not only could Peter Parker rival any high school athlete, but he could probably outmatch a soldier in combat.

Of course, Peter himself hadn't fully grasped the extent of his newfound powers. For now, his only application was dealing with the small-time bullies who had tormented him.

The trio continued their conversation as they walked.

"Peter, are you helping out at Dr. Connors' lab again today?" Donald inquired.

"Yeah," Peter nodded, then added, "We're working on a drug to regenerate severed limbs. If successful, it might be able to help you too."

Donald couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness upon hearing this.

He had once dreamed of becoming a brilliant scientist and doctor, capable of healing his own disability through sheer intellect.

But as he grew older and accumulated more knowledge, he began to realize that achieving this goal might be beyond his natural abilities.

Peter's revelation only served to reinforce this realization.

What a disappointment... Donald sighed inwardly.

"Oh, there's my uncle," Peter said nervously as he spotted Uncle Ben arriving at the school.

"Go on, be brave," Ned teased.

Peter sighed deeply and headed towards his stern uncle.

---

Late that night.

Peter Parker wandered down the empty streets alone, his head hung low and a desolate expression etched on his face.

Earlier that day, due to various reasons, he had gotten into a heated argument with Uncle Ben, culminating in him storming out and wandering aimlessly through the deserted city streets.

After a while, he found himself in a convenience store, buying a drink.

"That'll be two dollars and seven cents," grumbled the rotund cashier, displaying no hint of customer service.

Peter rummaged through his pockets but could only muster two dollars and five cents—two cents shy of the total.

"Two dollars and seven cents," the cashier repeated coldly. "Come on, there are other customers waiting."

Peter reluctantly fished out two cents from the store's charity box.

"What do you think you're doing?" snapped the cashier. "You're only allowed to use that money to round off payments above ten dollars. That's store policy!"

Peter forced a smile. "It's just two cents..."

"If you can't pay, step aside," the cashier replied callously, showing no sympathy. "Or go ask your father for it. Don't hold up the line."

As Peter stared at the sarcastic cashier, a dark thought flashed through his mind—he could easily take him down now, thanks to his newfound abilities.

Not only that, he could probably evade the law's repercussions altogether.

If he chose to, this obnoxious cashier could become a corpse in an instant.

"If you're short on cash, step aside," the cashier retorted callously. "Or go ask your dad for more money. Don't hold up other customers."

Peter glared at the sarcastic cashier, his thoughts straying to what he could do to him—now that he possessed the power to do so. He knew he could exact revenge without fear of legal consequences.

But he quickly dismissed the thought.

Peter didn't act on his anger. He silently turned away and left the store.

But just a few steps outside, a blonde man in sunglasses—a few steps ahead of Peter—deliberately knocked a small shelf off the checkout counter.

"Crash!" The contents spilled onto the floor.

"Damn it!" cursed the cashier, stooping to pick up the scattered items.

Seizing the opportunity, the blonde man reached into the register, grabbed a handful of bills, and tossed a carton of milk at Peter—something Peter hadn't even intended to buy.

Peter caught the milk carton and watched the thief dash out of the store without a second glance.

By the time the cashier realized what had happened, the thief had vanished into the night.

"Help me!" the cashier implored Peter, desperation etched on his face. "Stop that thief!"

"I'm not responsible for this," Peter replied flatly. He had no inclination to assist the same cashier who had just ridiculed him. With that, he turned on his heels and left.

Frustrated, the cashier darted after the thief, shouting for help. "Stop him! Somebody stop him!"

The thief sprinted down the street, colliding with a passerby and sending them both tumbling to the ground—his pistol skittering across the pavement.

"Stop him!" the cashier hollered.

In that moment, a silver-haired elderly man rushed toward the scene. Startled by the sight of the thief and the gun, he lunged forward, attempting to apprehend the criminal.

The two men wrestled violently.

"Bam!"

A gunshot shattered the night's tranquility.

Peter Parker, still clutching the milk carton, froze in shock. Without knowing why, he decided to investigate further.

"No!" he exclaimed as he witnessed the elderly man sprawled in a pool of blood. It was Uncle Ben. "Uncle!"

Rushing to his uncle's side, Peter was overcome with horror. Blood gushed from Uncle Ben's chest, flowing like a crimson river.

A frequent visitor to biological laboratories, Peter recognized the gravity of the situation. The bullet had pierced Uncle Ben's heart—making survival outside an operating room all but impossible.

"God!" Peter's voice quavered. Tears welled in his eyes as he desperately tried to stem the bleeding. Alas, his efforts were in vain. He could only watch helplessly as the pool of blood expanded.

In that moment, Peter prayed—not for himself, but for divine intervention. He longed for God to descend from the heavens and spare Uncle Ben's life.

But it was a futile hope.

God did not answer his prayer. Death claimed Uncle Ben instead.

Before the ambulance arrived, Uncle Ben succumbed to his injuries—departing from this world forever.

"Noooo!" Peter Parker collapsed to his knees, consumed by anguish.

The following day.

The police came to the door and prepared to leave after a brief questioning, holding a portrait of a criminal that Aunt May did not recognize.

"Can I see it?" Peter Parker hesitated, and asked for a portrait of the criminal from the police.

"The man committed the theft at a nearby supermarket last night, and according to the clerk, he also had a star tattoo on his hand..." the police said.

Looking at the portrait of the criminal, Peter Parker was struck by lightning, as if he could not believe his eyes.

The person in the portrait is clearly the blond man he saw last night, the thief he could have stopped!

I don't have that responsibility - he still remembers what he said.

At this moment, Peter Parker suddenly woke up: everyone in the world is sharing certain risks and responsibilities, and no one is an island.

With great power comes great responsibility - he remembered the teachings of his uncle Ben, which have been indelibly etched in his heart ever since.

Peter Parker finally understands how to use his power.

Since then, there has been one less uncle Ben in the world, but one more Spider-Man.

Peter Parker puts on a mask and travels through the city, using his power to stop all evil because he knows it's his responsibility.

---

A few months later, at night.

"Thank you for watching the movie with me, Donald," Jane Foster said with a smile in the taxi.

Donald was much more reserved than she was, wearing a shy expression on his face. "No, it's nothing."

This evening marked several firsts for him.

It was the first time he held hands with a woman under the age of 30, the first time he went to a movie with a girl, and the first time he had a conversation with a girl for more than ten minutes...

Under the enthusiastic matchmaking of friends, Donald finally took the first step out of being single, which made him very excited.

But as Ned had suggested, Jane Foster seemed to have some affection for him and did not mind his disability, thinness, and introversion at all.

"Jane," Donald began hesitantly.

Jane Foster looked at him, blinking her beautiful eyes. "What's the matter?"

"I..." Donald hesitated.

Suddenly, the taxi driver exclaimed, "What is that?"

There was commotion outside, with cars honking and pedestrians screaming, as if something terrible had happened.

Donald and Jane turned their heads and saw a huge lizard-like creature in the midst of traffic.

It had green skin, claws, and a tail like a lizard, but it walked upright and wore tattered clothing, a bizarre fusion of lizard and human features.

"Roar--"

The monstrous lizard roared skyward like a beast, effortlessly tearing two pedestrians apart, splattering blood and causing further panic.

"Monster!"

"Run—"

"Help - help!"

The driver was also terrified. He accelerated, trying to flee, but the dense traffic and ensuing chaos made immediate escape impossible.

The lizard creature began to rampage, killing indiscriminately. It was powerful and tough-skinned; even those with firearms found it difficult to effectively harm it.

Both Donald and Jane Foster were pale and bewildered.

"What do we do, Donald?"

"I... I don't know," Donald replied inadequately. As soon as he said it, he felt all the goodwill he had built up that evening evaporate, and he regretted it silently.

But it was the truth. Faced with such a ferocious monster, what could a disabled man like him do?

He could only hope that Spider-Man, Daredevil, or the police would arrive soon, and that the creature wouldn't find them before then.

But worries kept mounting.

"Boom!" Just as Donald thought this, there was a loud bang on the roof, and a giant green lizard claw ripped through it.

"Ah—" Jane Foster screamed.

The driver tried to grab his rifle to defend himself, but before he could even touch it, the lizard creature crushed his head.

"Go!" Donald quickly opened the car door and grabbed the driver's rifle, pulling Jane Foster out with him.

Seeing them, the lizard creature grinned and began chasing after them. "Roar!"

"Bang!" Donald quickly pulled the trigger.

Another first for him tonight—a first time firing a gun.

Despite his trembling legs, he surprisingly managed to shoot accurately. The bullet exploded one of the creature's eyeballs!

"Ah!" The creature howled in pain as it dropped to its knees, allowing Donald and Jane Foster to flee.

However, the creature displayed an extraordinary ability to heal. Despite the gunshot wound, its eye quickly regenerated.

It glared at the fleeing duo, fury flashing in its eyes, and resumed its chase, intent on tearing them apart.

"Bang bang bang!"

Donald fired shot after shot, but his success rate in hitting the creature's eyes decreased.

Just then, a figure descended from the sky in a red and blue spider suit, arriving just in time to kick the lizard creature away.

"Spider-Man!"

Donald and Jane Foster were pleasantly surprised.

Another first—Donald saw Spider-Man for the first time.

Yet, for some reason, he felt an odd familiarity with Spider-Man's figure...

"Let's go," Donald urged Jane Foster. Before they left, he tossed the rifle to Spider-Man. "It's up to you now, hero."

The lizard creature tried to pursue them but was intercepted by Spider-Man, who taunted, "Pesky spider!"

Peter Parker glanced at the rifle in his hand, hesitated briefly, then tossed it aside. He had never used such a weapon before, and it felt cumbersome.

After discarding the rifle, he shot out his webbing.

"Thwip!"

Snow-white spider silk shot forth, swiftly entangling the lizard creature's legs, causing it to stumble and fall to the ground.