Chapter 133: Gwen's Shades of Grey

"This is incredible!" Gwen exclaimed, looking at the coffee in her hand as she spoke to Peter. "I mean, the existence of magic is incredible. If magic truly exists, then magicians should have at least a Ph.D."

"A Ph.D.?" Peter questioned.

"Yeah, like, chanting spells, casting lightning, telekinesis, energy transmission, telepathy, and all that stuff. It's like studying a system, isn't mastering all of that extremely difficult? At the very least, you'd need an exceptionally sharp mind."

Gwen seemed to make a very reasonable point.

"Perhaps," Peter responded.

He set down his coffee cup and explained to Gwen, "It's not that difficult, really. Creating magic out of thin air might be challenging, but if you take a different approach, like stealing energy from some deity or demon, magic just manifests itself."

Peter thought of the Ancient One's methods, the magic energy also wielded by the future Doctor Strange.

Due to the lack of a suitable successor, the Ancient One continuously absorbed energy from the Dark Dimension to protect Earth from being overtaken by other magical dimensions.

Peter wondered if there was still an Ancient One in this universe. If so, was it a man or a woman?

After a moment of contemplation, he looked up at Gwen and said, "But doing so may come at a hefty price. Everything follows an equal exchange."

Gwen pondered for a moment. "Just like humans using the stolen fire from Prometheus, they will eventually be punished, right? Because the moment humans used fire, they were burdened with original sin. Yet many are still willing to take the risk of using fire."

Listening to Gwen's words, Peter paused slightly.

Had Gwen overheard him talking to Helen?

After some contemplation, he looked up at Gwen and said, "Yes, that's the price."

"Helen seems a bit pitiful then," Gwen remarked.

Gwen didn't know much about Helen's background, assuming she was a traditional magician.

Like the witches who used to be burned at the stake in the past.

Magic may be powerful, but it comes with an inevitable tragic fate.

After pondering for a while, she asked Peter, "Did she really agree to reconciliation? Also, is the black creature that appeared in the livestream, killing the werewolf, her pet?"

"In terms of reconciliation, we only signed a temporary ceasefire agreement. Although she knows our identities, her biggest enemy isn't us. As for that creature, you'll see it again in the future."

Peter vaguely responded to Gwen.

"Well, I don't want to encounter such a terrifying creature," Gwen muttered softly.

But then she remembered something and asked Peter, "Why was she so hostile towards you at first?"

"Probably because she felt aggrieved during our fight," Peter explained. "Some women are like that."

Gwen nodded, feeling like there was something off about that statement, but she couldn't find a reason to refute it for the time being.

Suddenly, she remembered a woman—Black Cat! This woman, who usually disguised herself as a rock star, was one of those strange-minded women!

"Click!"

As Gwen pushed open the door, she was greeted by the loud snoring noise coming from inside the room, louder than her jazz drum.

She looked towards the couch and saw her father, George Stacy, lying there asleep.

George Stacy, with one arm as a pillow, seemed to have fallen asleep directly on the couch due to exhaustion.

Gwen didn't wake her father up. She sighed and sat down on the nearby chair.

It was already 7 o'clock in the evening.

After leaving the airport, she and Peter went straight back home after parting ways at the café.

Taking out her phone, she found that all the hot news was about the terrorist attack at Kennedy Airport.

If Peter hadn't subdued those terrorists in time, more innocent passengers would have been harmed.

As Gwen was about to put down her phone, she saw her father waking up from the couch.

"Gwen?"

Seeing his daughter in the room, George blinked and looked at the clock hanging on the wall.

"I've been asleep for two hours?"

Gwen said to her father, "Maybe you're too tired, Dad. You need to rest."

"There have been a lot of things happening recently, and the police department is short-staffed, so everyone is in this state," George said as he walked over to the coffee maker.

"Today, there was also a terrorist attack at Kennedy Airport, adding to the troubles."

He said while making himself a cup of hot coffee, adding milk from the refrigerator.

Gwen watched her father make milk coffee with some guilt.

Because George had always told her since she was little that drinking coffee would affect her growth, so every time she had breakfast, he would prepare a large glass of milk to go with her steak.

Although she would prefer to have a delicious wheat cake for breakfast.

Of course, it would be perfect if there was another glass of soda.

Thinking about her date with Peter at the café, and how she had drunk a lot of coffee herself.

If her father found out, he would definitely reiterate his theory of drinking less coffee to her.

"Dad, are you still working with the Special Crimes Unit?" Gwen asked her father.

"Yes."

"Have you changed your opinion of Spider-Man? I mean, he saved a lot of people again today. Maybe he's just a good person who likes to help others."

Gwen wanted to change her father's view of Spider-Man.

George put down his milk coffee and said to Gwen, "It doesn't matter, Gwen. Even if I think he's a good person, it doesn't change anything."

"Why?" Gwen asked.

"Because this world is neither black nor white, but gray in the middle. Everyone sees things from different perspectives and positions, so they come to different conclusions."

Gwen felt a bit frustrated. "That's different from what you taught me before, Dad. I remember asking you why you protect this city, and you said no one forces you to do so, but because you're willing to do it voluntarily. At that time, I thought the word 'voluntarily' was really cool; it's both humble and brave."

"But now, Dad, your insistence on justice is also sliding towards the middle ground."

Hearing Gwen's words, George was stunned.

After a while, he slowly put down the mug in his hand.

Was he really sliding towards compromise and going with the flow?!

He remembered the threatening phone call he received in the office during the day.

Because of his previous actions, George had sent Matt Murdoch, the number one villain under Kingpin's command, to prison and started investigating Kingpin's criminal activities, leading to hostility from Kingpin's forces.

Today, the person threatening him over the phone was indeed from Kingpin's camp.

When they threatened his daughter, there was indeed a moment of hesitation on George's part.

Seeing the disappointment on Gwen's face, George walked over and gently stroked her hair, saying, "Don't worry, I will always uphold my sense of justice, Gwen, in my own way."

Meanwhile,

Fisk Tower.

A grand banquet was being held in the banquet hall.

All the attendees were socialites and dignitaries from New York.

The person George had in mind as Kingpin—Wilson Fisk—was receiving compliments from the mayor.

"It's because of your generous donations that the repair work on the Brooklyn Bridge was able to be completed smoothly and revived after the terrorist attack."

The mayor, with gray hair but lively spirit, raised his glass to the towering figure of Fisk, needing to tilt his head up to speak to him, and said, "Only when the city needs help the most can we know who the most reliable friend of the city is."

"And now I know, Mr. Fisk, you are the true friend of New York."

Being praised by the mayor, Fisk had a modest smile on his face.

He chuckled and clinked his glass with the mayor's raised one, "But spare me."

The reporters attending the banquet noticed the conversation between the mayor and Fisk and swarmed around.

The sound of flashing cameras kept ringing out.

Although many of the reporters here knew that the smiling fat man in front of them wasn't a good person.

Drug trafficking, theft, murder—all seemed to have the shadow of the Fisk Group behind them.

But ironically, with just a few bills, he managed to portray himself as a good person.

Even though they thought so, none of the reporters present were foolish enough to say it.