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I didn't upload yesterday, so here is an extra chapter as compensation.

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In life, not everyone reacts the same to pressure. Some rise to the occasion, achieving incredible feats when pushed to the brink—like a mother lifting a 2-ton car with nothing but sheer will and the desire to save her child. Others, however, fold under stress, enduring beatdowns with no end in sight. Unfortunately, it seemed that the agents of the Service Division, along with the Grove pharmaceutical organization, were experiencing the latter.

The Link that the two organizations faced suddenly became three. However, these three weren't just weak, mindless drones. They were powerful, almost invulnerable beings, each one a walking tank with a body as tough as steel and a formidable combat prowess to match. Against the Spidermen, these clones were nothing more than cannon fodder—easily dispatched with webs and kicks—but when facing ordinary agents, they became final-level bosses. Their attacks were relentless, their defenses near impenetrable.

The Links had every advantage. They knew the battlefield, and they were far, far stronger. The team led by Ivan had stumbled into the situation blind, not even understanding the layout of the arena. The agents were lost, disoriented, and ill-prepared. In an instant, the tide of battle turned against them.

Ivan watched helplessly as the agents around him fell, one by one. The Links moved with the fluidity of shadows, leaving the team little time to react. 

Before Ivan had time to fully assess the situation, a Link was upon him. Without thinking, he transformed his right arm into a blade and slashed at the approaching enemy. The Link dodged effortlessly, its movements unnervingly smooth. In one swift motion, the clone grabbed a combat knife from a fallen agent and drove it deep into Ivan's side.

The blade pierced Ivan's flesh, cutting through muscle and bone, emerging from his back in a spray of dark red blood. The pain was immediate and intense, but Ivan had no time to acknowledge it. His body went stiff, his senses screaming at him to act. Through the haze of pain, his left arm morphed into a mechanical claw, clamping down on the Link's wrist with brutal force. His right arm shifted from a blade into a shotgun, the barrel pressed firmly against the Link's face.

"Got you, asshole," Ivan snarled through clenched teeth as he pulled the trigger.

The shotgun blast was deafening, the recoil slamming up Ivan's arm as the pellets tore into the Link's face. The sheer force of the impact sent the clone staggering backward, its head snapping back from the blow. The once-smooth skin of the Link's face was now a mess of blood and shattered bone. Ivan's quick thinking had paid off—he had used his own body as bait, taking the hit to create an opening for his counterattack.

However, Ivan's body trembled as he struggled to maintain his footing. Blood poured from the wound in his side, and his vision blurred slightly from the pain. Yet he couldn't let himself falter. With a deep breath, he released his grip on the Link and conjured a new weapon—a rocket launcher appeared in his hands with a soft hum. Without hesitation, Ivan aimed the launcher directly at the Link's chest and fired.

The rocket shot out with a fiery trail, closing the non-existent distance in an instant. The explosion was massive, sending the Link flying backward, its body crashing into the far wall with bone-shattering force. Bits of flesh and armor rained down as the clone's body tumbled across the floor, leaving a trail of blood and smoke in its wake.

Ivan, now exhausted and bleeding profusely, dropped to one knee. His breathing was ragged, and his hands shook from the strain. He glanced toward the crumpled figure of Link, lying motionless in the distance, and allowed himself a small, triumphant smile.

"Ha... how about that, you bastard?" Ivan muttered, his voice weak.

But just as he was about to turn his attention to the remaining two Links.

The lying figure twitched.

Ivan's eyes widened in disbelief. He watched, horrified, as the Link began to move, its limbs jerking awkwardly at first, then more fluidly as it forced itself to stand. The dislocated joints snapped back into place with sickening pops, and the shredded skin on its face and chest began to regenerate at an alarming rate. The Link stood tall once again, its bruised body mending itself, the damage from the rocket slowly disappearing.

"Goddamn it... what kind of monster is this?" Ivan gasped, trying desperately to rise to his feet. But his strength was failing, and his legs gave out beneath him. He fell back to the ground, gritting his teeth in frustration. "How the hell did Batman make this look so easy?"

The Link, now fully regenerated, cracked its neck and rolled its shoulders, preparing for the final strike. Ivan's mind raced as he tried to think of a countermeasure, but his options were limited. His body was too weak, and his phantom abilities weren't enough to stop this thing. He needed time, but time was running out.

Suddenly, from the shadows, a loud, thunderous roar echoed through the cave.

A bright blue flash of light lit up the room, illuminating the dark corners. Lightning shot through the air like a spear, striking the Link in front of Ivan with the force of a freight train. The clone was thrown off its feet, its body convulsing violently as electricity surged through it.

The bolt of lightning hit with such ferocity that the Link was launched across the room, crashing into the same wall it had hit moments before. This time, however, the impact was even more brutal. The Link's body crumpled to the ground in a heap, black smoke rising from its charred skin.

Ivan, still on one knee, blinked in shock. His mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the lightning, his breath catching in his throat.

Stepping out of the shadows was a man dressed in the black uniform of the Ninth Special Service Division. His hands crackled with residual electricity, blue arcs of energy dancing around his fingers. Ivan recognized him immediately.

Larry Wade, an agent of the Ninth Special Service Division. Larry was one of the division's top agents, known for his devastating phantom abilities. There were rumors that Larry had recently developed a new power—one that allowed him to control lightning. Ivan had heard the stories, but seeing it in action was something else entirely.

The other two Links barely had time to react before Larry unleashed another surge of lightning. The bolts struck their targets with deadly accuracy, sending both clones crashing to the ground, their bodies writhing as electricity coursed through them.

Larry stood in the center of the room, his body glowing with an ethereal blue light. The energy around him was palpable, the air crackling with tension. Above his head, the electrical currents coalesced into a massive storm cloud, swirling ominously. From that cloud, bolts of lightning shot down like spears, striking the Links over and over again.

"Finally found the right place," Larry said with a smirk, casually wiping his brow as if he hadn't just unleashed hell. "This place is a maze. Took me forever to find you guys."

He glanced at Ivan, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "These guys giving you trouble?"

"Yeah," Ivan replied through gritted teeth, trying to pull himself up. The pain from his wound was excruciating, but he managed to stand. "Any ideas on why there are three of them?"

Larry shrugged, his hands still crackling with electricity. "Doesn't matter. They're all enemies, right?"

Without waiting for a response, Larry raised his hand, and another bolt of lightning shot from the cloud above him. The electricity slammed into the Links, their bodies convulsing as they were hit again and again. Though resilient, even these clones couldn't withstand the constant bombardment. Their movements slowed, and their bodies twitched helplessly on the ground.

However, the Links were tough. Their blood-thick bodies, designed for survival, were slowly regenerating even as the lightning ripped through them. Their faces contorted in pain, but they began to rise once more, refusing to stay down.

Larry frowned. "Still standing, huh?" He flexed his fingers, summoning another surge of power. "Let's see how you handle this."

He raised both hands, and the storm cloud above him grew darker, more ominous. Bolts of lightning shot down in rapid succession.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The cave was filled with the sound of thunder as the bolts struck, tearing through the clones with unrelenting force. The impact was brutal, their armored skin shredding under the power of the blasts. Huge craters formed beneath their bodies as the ground shook from the sheer intensity of the lightning.

The agents who had been struggling just moments ago stood back in awe, watching as Larry dismantled their enemies with ease. Some exchanged glances, clearly impressed with Larry's display of power.

Several pharmaceutical Company agents glanced at each other, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Is this guy really with you?" one of them whispered, nudging his counterpart from the service division. The unspoken question was clear: How did we not know you had someone this powerful?

Even the agents from the Service Division, Larry's own teammates, were stunned. One of them, standing with his weapon lowered, muttered under his breath, "We had a guy this strong? What the hell…?"

Larry, unfazed by the murmurs around him, continued his relentless assault. The thundercloud above him crackled ominously as more lightning bolts shot down, pounding the Links into the ground. Their bodies, once so durable and impervious to harm, were torn apart by the onslaught of electricity. Each blast ripped through them, creating deep craters in the ground as the lightning reduced them to little more than charred husks.

Finally, the three Links collapsed, their bodies barely recognizable. The craters left by Larry's attack still smoked, the air thick with the smell of burnt flesh and electricity.

Larry casually clapped his hands together, brushing off the residual energy from his palms. "So," he said, glancing at the craters, "that's all of them, right?"

The other agents exchanged looks of disbelief. One of them, clearly still processing what had just happened, managed to stammer, "Uh… y-yeah. That's… that's all of them."

The expressions on the agents' faces were a mix of awe and confusion. They had spent the better part of the battle struggling to stay alive, and in just a few minutes, Larry had singlehandedly wiped out their biggest threats. It was almost too easy for him.

But before anyone could respond further, a deep rumbling sound echoed through the room. It was coming from the far side of the cave.

The agents, still on edge despite the recent victory, turned toward the source of the noise. It was the door—the heavy, metal door that the pharmaceutical factory agents had been trying to pry open since they arrived. Now, without warning, the door was slowly creaking open on its own.

The room fell silent. The tension that had been momentarily relieved by Larry's victory returned, thick and suffocating. The agents held their breath, their eyes locked on the door as it continued to open. Something was behind it—something big.

Though there was no sound to indicate it, the atmosphere felt like the calm before a storm.

Finally, the door opened fully.

A massive figure stepped into the room, shrouded in darkness. The figure's silhouette was enormous, towering over everyone in the room. Its burly physique exuded raw power, the kind of power that made even the seasoned agents instinctively take a step back.

For a moment, no one moved. The agents' hearts pounded in their chests as they waited for the figure to make its move.

Then, in an instant, the figure darted forward with astonishing speed. It moved like a blur, its immense size belying the swiftness of its movements. But just as quickly as it appeared, the figure stumbled—its foot catching on a rock jutting out from the ground.

The figure lost its balance and fell forward, crashing to the floor in an unsightly heap. It rolled several times, the momentum from its initial speed carrying it forward before it finally came to a stop, lying facedown on the ground.

For a moment, the room was silent.

Before anyone could process it, the figure scrambled to its feet, its movements frantic. It didn't even bother to regain its composure. Instead, it half-crawled, half-ran, shouting as it moved, "Get out of the way! Move, get away from me!"

As the agents stared in bewilderment, two white strands of webbing shot out from the darkness, sticking to the figure's legs. The figure let out a panicked yelp as it was yanked backward, its body dragged across the ground by an unseen force.

Two more figures emerged from the door, their silhouettes instantly recognizable.

Spider-Man and Gwen.

The two Spidermen swung into the room with effortless grace, their movements fluid as they flipped through the air. Even as they chased down their target, they were still arguing, their voices carrying through the now-silent room.

"This time I definitely hit first!" Spider-Man shouted, his tone filled with competitive energy.

"Yeah, right!" Gwen shot back, rolling her eyes under the mask as she flipped over a pile of debris. "My eyes are way better than yours. I totally hit him first!"

The Spidermen launched the figure into the air with a series of precise web shots and kicks, performing an intricate aerial combo that left the creature helpless.

In midair, Gwen shot out two webs, one sticking to the figure's back, the other to its legs. With a powerful tug, she yanked the figure down, slamming it into the ground with enough force to send a shockwave through the room.

Before the figure could even attempt to recover, Spider-Man was already in position. He launched another web at the figure's chest, pulling himself toward it like a cannonball. He collided with the creature with a powerful kick, sending it soaring into the air.

The agents, who had been frozen in shock, finally reacted. Their mouths fell open in unison, their expressions forming perfect O's of disbelief.

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