I'm not Spider-Man, even though I'm parasitized by an alien!

Fairness and justice will forever exist only in those illusory lies.

Peter shifted his gaze to the rapidly passing scenery outside the car window, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

This was the first time he had ever seen a murder method where the victim was placed inside a spider's web.

Was the murderer a student at the school?

Something like Spider-Man?

Or perhaps, a genetically mutated species like myself?

His brows quickly furrowed.

The next day.

New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

Peter walked down the corridor toward the office of the oncologist, Collin.

He needs the other party to help him at any time, and to closely monitor the changes of the abnormal embryo in his body using testing equipment.

As for the school, due to Josh's unexpected death, the school is temporarily closed for one day.

This is probably an attempt to suppress the increasingly outrageous rumors about Josh's death.

Because of the extremely bizarre manner of Josh's death, all sorts of strange rumors circulated throughout the school.

Peter was even rumored to be a murderer with mysterious methods.

After all, many people witnessed him throwing Josh onto the locker that day.

With that level of power, killing Josh wouldn't seem difficult.

Even though the school and the police explained that Peter had nothing to do with the incident, he was still given various titles related to spiders.

Peter, who has never been interested in school gossip, was unaware that the students had already given him the nickname "Spider-Man."

After entering Dr. Ryan's office, he was quickly examined.

The alien embryo inside her body remained the same as before, without much change.

Dr. Lane offered him advice.

Peter nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his suggestion.

He now feels more and more that his physical strength is evolving in a stronger direction.

They run faster, and their agility and strength have improved significantly.

He would have an easier time dealing with the previous "werewolf boy" now.

It seems that the alien genes in his body are having an increasingly significant impact on him.

He doesn't yet know how far this change will go, or whether it will be good or bad for him.

Will he eventually become an alien?

Or did an alien be born from within its body?

"So, are you really sure you don't need a blood test? Maybe it can help you figure out the nature of the tumor in your body more quickly."

Dr. Lane suggested he have a blood test.

"No, no need."

How can one extract their own blood, which is as corrosive as that of an alien?

It would probably corrode the syringe in no time.

As Peter left Dr. Lane's office, he prepared to leave the hospital.

Just as I reached the public rest area, an elderly woman called out to me.

"Child, can you take me to the ward?"

The elderly woman, sitting in a wheelchair, asked him with a smile.

Peter looked around to make sure the other person was calling him, then shook his head without hesitation.

"Sorry, I have something to do. You can find someone else."

He is not a helpful person.

"Really? But I can see you're confused. Maybe I can give you some immature advice."

The woman continued speaking with a smile.

Peter ignored her, but what the woman said next made him stop in his tracks as he was about to leave.

"For example, I know that you want to buy a newspaper, but you probably don't have any change in your wallet."

Peter stopped and stared at the woman, remaining silent for a few seconds.

He was indeed planning to go downstairs to buy something.

He then took out his wallet from his pocket, which contained several "Franklin" bills.

There was indeed no change left.

Peter shook his head, put his wallet in his pocket, and said, "I was indeed thinking of buying something, but not necessarily a newspaper. Until the moment I made the decision, I didn't even know what I wanted."

"But fate has already made the choice for you, hasn't it?"

Peter didn't speak, pondered for a moment, and then came over to push the old woman's wheelchair.

He wanted to see what the old woman was up to.

"Thank you."

The woman smiled and thanked him, saying, "My room number is 965."

the other side.

Dr. Christine discovers that her patient has disappeared.

When she noticed the wheelchair wasn't there, she knew the patient must have gone out for a walk in it.

She's about to go crazy!

I had clearly instructed her not to go out, but before I knew it, the patient had disappeared from the ward.

Just as she was about to confront the nurse, she looked up and saw the patient being wheeled into the ward.

The person pushing the wheelchair was someone who surprised her greatly.

Chapter 15 You Have a Monster Living Inside You, Peter

Let's rewind a few minutes.

Peter pushed the woman in the wheelchair along the corridor toward the ward.

"may I know your name?"

"Peter Parker."

Peter glanced down at the old man in the wheelchair and said, "I thought you really were a fortune teller, able to predict my name."

"Of course, but are you sure that's your name?"

The old woman looked up and smiled slightly at him.

Peter paused for a moment, then replied without changing his expression, "That's my name."

"Hmm, a name doesn't mean anything, maybe I shouldn't dwell on this."

The woman soon stopped talking about Peter's name and placed her hands on the armrests of her wheelchair.

"Mr. Peter, do you think I'm a fortune teller?"

"Is not it?"

Peter said to the woman in a nonchalant tone, “Tarot cards, or palm reading, I even know people who can tell fortunes by reading tea leaves. For example, if there are tea leaves standing upright in a teacup today, they can tell that guests will come to visit.”

“You’re very funny, Mr. Peter.”

The woman said with a smile.

As she passed through a particularly bright spot in the corridor, she took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on.

"I'm sorry, my eyes are not feeling well, and I'm becoming less and less accustomed to bright light."

She took the initiative to explain to Peter why she was wearing sunglasses.

“You can call me Mrs. Weber, or Cassandra, which will make me sound younger.”

After putting on sunglasses, she became more talkative.

“Mr. Peter, I understand what you mean by divination techniques, beautiful cards, secrets hidden in palm lines, and so on. I think those are just gimmicks, actually.”

After a pause, she continued, “There are completely different ways to glimpse fate. Some people believe that they have a specific way of operating and specific rules, so in their hearts, they make special demands on those who have the ability to glimpse the secrets of fate, believing that everyone will follow the same constraints as them.”

Peter listened to Mrs. Webber's words, nodded, and asked her, "That sounds reasonable. So, how does Mrs. Webber glimpse fate?"

Mrs. Weber gestured for Peter to stop pushing the wheelchair, and asked him, "Would you like to try, Mr. Peter?"

"of course."

Peter nodded.

Although he was an atheist in his previous life, he always held a skeptical attitude towards supernatural phenomena.

But after experiencing time travel, his beliefs changed.

Moreover, the Marvel world he traveled to was filled with magic and incredible power.

Right now, he wants to see how this rather mysterious Mrs. Weber will predict her fate.

"What do I need to do, Mrs. Weber?"

"Just give me your hand."

Mrs. Weber gestured for Peter to hand her his hand.

Peter hesitated for a moment, then placed his left hand into hers.

He couldn't see Mrs. Webber's expression behind her sunglasses, but he did see that her expression turned serious the moment she touched his left hand.