Chapter 161

[Third Person's PoV] 

Peter and Gwen walked out of the amusement park, both chuckling as the day faded into night.

"You're going to let me drive, right?" Gwen asked mischievously.

Peter tossed her the keys with a grin. "I never imagined my girlfriend would be a biker girl."

Gwen scoffed playfully. "You just want to see my ass arched up on the seat, don't you?"

"You're goddamn right I do!" Peter responded with enthusiasm, giving her a thumbs up.

Gwen chuckled in amusement as they reached the parking lot. Peter let out a low whistle as he watched Gwen throw a leg over the bike. She loosened her ponytail, letting her hair fall around her shoulders, and leaned forward on the bike, puckering her lips toward Peter and ruffling her hair a bit as she arched on the seat.

"ZOINKS!" Peter exclaimed, whipping out his phone to take pictures.

Gwen couldn't help but laugh, hearing his exaggerated reaction. She struck a few poses for the photos before grabbing her helmet and tossing Peter's to him. "Let's get going, you dork."

"Yes, Mommy!" Peter said shamelessly as he hopped on the bike and wrapped his arms around her bare waist.

Gwen blushed slightly, leaning back toward Peter. "I don't know why, but hearing you call me that felt weirdly nice."

Peter just laughed, knocking her helmet gently with his. "Maybe because someone's a kinky little lady."

"Perhaps," she teased, making a kissing noise as she nudged his helmet with hers before leaning forward and starting the bike.

"Oh lord, have mercy," Peter muttered as he watched Gwen lean forward, his hands tightening around her toned waist.

"Hold on," Gwen said with a grin as she revved the engine. *Vroom* *Vroom*

"With pleasure," Peter replied, and with that, they took off.

Gwen and Peter weaved through traffic, the cold wind rushing past them as they sped along, always staying within the speed limit like the upstanding citizens they were. 

As they came to a red light, both of their visors flashed as a HUD appeared, momentarily catching Gwen off guard.

"What is it, Aria?" Peter asked, noticing the alert.

"Sorry to interrupt your date, but I have some important news," Aria replied.

"No problem, we were done with our date. I'm just glad nothing ruined it. So, what's wrong?" Peter asked.

"It's the Tinkerer..."

"Huh? What about him? Shouldn't he be in jail?" Gwen asked, joining the conversation as the light turned green and they continued driving.

"He is, but that's the problem. While in prison, he's met someone who will be known as the Shocker. They're becoming fast friends, and they've started stealing from their recreational activities while acting on good behavior."

"I see... So, it's likely the Tinkerer is planning to build the Shocker's... well, shockers. Why are you telling me this instead of reporting it to the warden?" Peter asked curiously.

"You mentioned before that some villains are fated to be born, and no matter what we do, we can't stop it. I was just wondering if this is the same case. Should I intervene or leave it up to fate?"

"Although I said most of them, not all need to be born or will be born. We should prevent the ones we can. Report what you've found to the warden and make sure they're punished accordingly, while ensuring they can't attempt this again," Peter instructed.

"Alright, sorry for interrupting," Aria said before disconnecting.

"What did she mean by saying that some villains are fated to be born?" Gwen asked curiously.

"I don't really know how to explain it so it makes sense... Okay, do you remember how in Miles' universe, there were a lot of Peter Parkers who became Spider-Man? Well, that's fate. It shows that in almost every universe, Peter Parker is destined to be Spider-Man."

"And wherever there's a Spider-Man, there's a villain to put him to the test, to push him past his limits over and over again. It's like a law of the universe," Peter explained.

"How the hell did you come up with that theory?" Gwen asked, glancing back at Peter in surprise.

"Think about our universe as a comic book. It would get boring if all we fought were everyday thugs," Peter replied.

"Wait, is that how you see our lives? As a comic book?" Gwen asked, shocked.

"Yes and no. I mean, come on, we're superheroes fighting supervillains. You were the one who named me Spider-Man. Don't you find it weird that even though you 'came up' with the name, there's another Spider-Man across the multiverse?"

"That just sent a shiver down my spine. You're about to give me an existential crisis," Gwen said jokingly, though there was a certain edge to her tone.

"And didn't you notice how they all had almost the same origin story? They were bitten by a radioactive spider, and because of their careless mistakes, their caretaker paid the price, giving them the push to become a hero in their last dying breath," Peter continued.

"Peter... please shut up. You're honestly scaring me..."

"Right, sorry, my bad... Anyway, as I was saying before I got sidetracked, there will be villains born to test us—test our resolve, our limits. Take Doc Ock, for example. He bested me using his cunning. He forced me to choose between capturing him and saving people in need. And he and I both knew which one I would choose."

…

Elsewhere… 

A long, tentacled arm moved rapidly across a whiteboard, holding a marker as it scribbled down complex scientific formulas. Otto stood before the board, muttering to himself.

"Do I even need to steal someone else's body? I could just use my own DNA to create the most perfect clone of myself. With a bit of genetic coding and editing, I could craft a marvelous new body. After all, I'm already perfect, but I can make myself even better. And as I do that, I could mix my DNA with that of a spider."

His eyes gleamed with ambition. "But it can't be just any spider. It needs to be an enhanced spider. I'll need to run tests and secure funding for this, but I must avoid drawing Spider-Man's attention," Otto muttered, venom dripping from his tone.

"Although this feels like a disgrace to my intellect, I have no other choice. I'm desperate—I don't have the luxury of being selective about how I acquire my funds," Otto grumbled in frustration. He moved away from the whiteboard to his work desk, where he began assembling a small device with the limited resources available to him.

It didn't take long before he finished. He grabbed his long green coat and fedora, then picked up a specialized belt designed to avoid surveillance detection.

Stepping outside, he noticed it was nighttime and nodded in approval. "Perfect," he muttered as he exited his building.

After walking around the neighborhood for a while, Otto found what he was looking for: a black van parked a few buildings away. He skillfully lockpicked the van and slipped inside. Once in, he hotwired it and began driving off, making a few stops along the way.

Eventually, he spotted what he needed—a solitary ATM. Grabbing one of the large bags he had brought, Otto got out of the van and approached the machine. He quickly connected the device he had built, pressing a few buttons.

The ATM began spitting out money, and Otto smirked as he held the bag out to catch the bills. Once it finished, he disconnected the device and returned to the van, driving away.

He soon arrived at another ATM but noticed people nearby. He decided to wait, counting the money he had already collected. "$36,000... It's not a lot, but these machines usually hold around $100,000. I'd need to spend the entire night going around the city—and the neighboring one—if I want to gather over a million dollars."

His eyes narrowed in thought. "Wait... Spider-Man mostly operates in New York. If I leave the city, I should be much safer."

A new plan began to form in his mind. "I'll gather as much money as possible and then leave the city for a while. Once I'm out, I can start recruiting men and hire a crew of henchmen to do my bidding. That way, I can acquire even more money quickly. While they collect, I can dedicate my time to starting my experiments."

Otto's face twisted into a sly grin. "I'll need to remain anonymous, so if they get caught, it won't trace back to me. Yes, this is perfect!"

Otto grinned as he continued to strategize, the gleam of his plans reflected in his cold, calculating eyes. He knew that the path he was embarking on was risky, but the potential rewards outweighed the dangers. After all, he had always been a man who prided himself on his intellect and ability to outthink any opponent, including Spider-Man.

Driving out of New York seemed like the wisest move. It would allow him to operate in the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the authorities and the ever-watchful Spider-Man. He would find a small, inconspicuous town where he could set up a temporary base. There, he would build his army of henchmen, people desperate enough to follow orders without question. They would be his tools, nothing more.

Once he had the funds and the manpower, the real work would begin. Otto envisioned the possibilities of his genetic experiments, combining his already superior intellect with the physical abilities of an enhanced spider. He could surpass Spider-Man in every way, creating a new body that would make him invincible. The thought filled him with a twisted sense of excitement.

"Spider-Man won't know what hit him," Otto muttered under his breath as he drove towards the city limits. "I'll build an empire, one that will bring this city to its knees, and then, I'll come for him. The fool won't stand a chance against me."

With that, he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal, the van speeding into the night, leaving the city that had been both his home and his prison. Otto Octavius was no longer the man he once was. He was becoming something more, something far more dangerous. And as the city slept, unaware of the storm that was brewing, he felt a surge of triumph. Soon, the world would witness the rise of a new power, one that would bend it to his will.

He had much work to do, but the pieces were falling into place. All he needed was time, and that was something he was willing to take by force if necessary. The game had only just begun, and Otto was determined to be the one to win it.

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