Chapter 126 - 126

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"What?" Gwen shook her head, while Miles stared wide-eyed. "I thought you were leading up to saying it was wrong, but instincts can't always be fought!"

"Not exactly," I shook my head, not looking up from examining the little corpse. "Even if it is instincts, and they really can cause discomfort, in this case they were acting in the right direction. We won't be here for very long, and you, kid, need to master your powers. And the more they push you now, the easier it will be for you to survive later. There's no time for a normal warm-up period, so the express-training option is the most effective. And in this business, bruises, emotional pumping, and the desire to punch your sparring partner in the jaw are very useful things."

"Is that why you're provoking me?" Morales asked again, having calmed down and clearly started using his head.

"Mmm... Well, you're partly right—it's Spider-Man who should be trolling opponents in battle, not falling for the simplest jabs about his race. But actually, I'm just the God of Mischief and I like mocking people." And now, not forgetting the charming smile.

"The heroes in your reality are real pieces of work, I see," Gwen hurried to insert a remark, preempting the guy.

"Actually, I'm a Villain."

"What?!" the teenagers marveled in two voices.

"Oh, don't start with that!" I turn to them. "I'm not some crazy loser! I became a legend a thousand years before maniacal laughter was mainstream! And anyway, I'm a school teacher, which by definition makes me the cruelest tyrant, despot, and petty dictator in the world."

"Hah..." the blonde exhaled, then closed her eyes and hid her face in her hands. "Your jokes..."

"Are you sure he was joking?" the black kid looked at her sideways.

"I hope so," Gwen answered without taking her hands off her face.

"Well, now that we've sorted out my moral character, I suggest returning to this guy who arrived from a very lousy place," I get to my feet, demonstrating the closed container.

"What do you mean?" the blonde immediately returned from her "safe space."

"Besides the big number '42', there's 'Alchemax' written here in ti-i-iny print. And considering what that company represents, judging by local sources, we have here either 'test subject 42', or 'model 42', or 'prototype 42', basically something like that, possibly 'project 42'."

"And what's the big deal?" Morales didn't understand.

"The big deal, oh my slow-witted friend, is that somewhere near your universe there is a company, quite possibly run by an 'alternate Fisk', and he has a numbered project representing a spider with super-soldier serum in its mandibles. Though that's not for sure and I'll need to study the sample in calmer conditions later. After all, turning your prey into a killing machine instead of a tasty juice box with yum-yums isn't very logical from an evolutionary standpoint, nor from the concept of a biological weapon. Unless it was grown as an ingredient," I thoughtfully scratched my chin. "I wonder how they put this inscription on? Did someone really tattoo an eight-legged creature? Masochistic perverts... Or was it coded in the genome, and it hatched like that? Hmm..." I glanced at the guy. "Take off your clothes!"

"W-what?!" he jumped back. And hung from the ceiling, yes. "W-why? Don't come near me!"

"Right, for some reason I feel like I'm being thought of very poorly..." I sigh. "Calm down, I'm only attracted to beautiful, smart girls with a strong character," out of the corner of my eye I noticed Gwen starting to demonstratively study the obscene graffiti on the walls. "And generally, I am a God of old, strict moral rules, whatever those illiterate Scandinavian savage-perverts made up about me, so for hinting at sexual interest in men I might just kill you."

"Then why do you need me to undress?" Miles was in no hurry to come down from the ceiling.

"To make sure that a genetic marker wasn't transferred to you with the spider bite, and you didn't get a stylish tattoo on your back declaring that you are either a big fan or the legal property of Alchemax. You know, these 'ebony' traders..."

"Was that another racist joke?" the guy inquired suspiciously.

"Yeah, something like that. I see you're starting to understand!" A heavy sigh came in response. But the shady character did climb down from the ceiling. And even let himself be examined.

"Well? Well, what is it?" he hurried us impatiently, pulling up his jacket and t-shirt.

"You're in luck—the dark skin hides the dark lettering. You can barely see a thing."

"What?! No-o-o!" Panic-panic-panic.

"Don't listen to him! There's nothing there!" Gwen snorted angrily, although not ceasing to smile.

"That, by the way, is also a problem. How are you going to be a hero in tight spandex with a figure like that? You should pump some iron or something, you're skin and bones," I didn't miss the chance to "misunderstand" the girl's words.

"Everyone in my family is a big guy anyway, so it'll come naturally," Miles waved it off, putting his clothes back in place.

"Yeah, when you hit puberty," Miss Stacy unexpectedly dunked on the guy. And judging by how he winced, there was some very embarrassing story behind it... although... wait a minute...

"Is this somehow connected to that 'putting a hand on the shoulder' thing?"

"Oh ye-e-eah..." Gwen confirmed.

"Oh no-o-o," Morales groaned, literally turning black with shame... well, meaning, getting even darker than he was.

"Well, well, well... Let me guess," I move the container with the spider into the pocket dimension, to all the other samples already collected, and pull the cane into my hand. "The original plan was for it to be something like..." I take a step towards Gwen and, catching her right little paw with my free hand, also catch her gaze and turn on the charm over 9000. "Baby... I'm drowning in your eyes!" And a lot of velvety intonations in the voice, after which slowly kissing her fingers.

"Get lost!.." the blue-eyed blonde flared up like a tomato, snatching her hand away, but couldn't control her face, and it kept trying to treacherously spread into a silly smile.

"Did I guess right?" I turn to the black kid.

"Ah, leave me alone!" he waved his hand, turning away.

"By the way, you know what I just thought about?" Twirling Gungnir between my fingers, I decide to change the subject.

"I hope it's not about how to hit on a girl who is a thousand years younger than you, according to your own words," Morales pouted without turning around. Ho, well, at least he knows how to listen and perceive what he hears.

"The idea isn't bad," I playfully wink at Gwen, to which she snorted, though without ceasing to smile, "but I'm talking about something slightly different."

"And what is that?" the girl tilted her head to the side ironically.

"You see... Spiders don't have their abdomen on their back..." and now meaningfully slide my gaze down the figure of our guide from top to bottom and stop my gaze.

"Eh?.." Miss Stacy didn't understand right away, but when she turned in the direction I was looking, and followed the gaze. "O-oh!" it sounded even a little embarrassed.

…

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