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

"Buzz!"

The phone vibrated.

Peter took out his phone and saw a text message from Gwen.

“Peter, I’ve arrived at the NYPD and I’m safe! Thank you so much for coming to my rescue tonight. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be stuck in the hospital, suffering from disinfectant or formaldehyde.”

"You're welcome. Who are those guys?"

Peter texted Gwen to ask.

"Dad said they might be people with hands and abilities."

Peter closed his phone case, frowned slightly, and glanced into the alley.

"Hand"

New author, new book. If you have any readers, please add it to your favorites and recommend it. Thank you!

Chapter 5 Uncle Ben's Universal Formula

Parker's house, night.

"Peter? Aren't you sure you won't try some?"

Aunt May stood in the kitchen, holding a plate, and spoke to Peter.

The plate contained freshly baked flatbreads.

"It's banana and coconut flavored, with cinnamon and honey. It tastes great. Maybe you should try it and see if it suits your taste."

Uncle Ben said from the side, "Mei thought you didn't have a good appetite, so she spent two hours making it for you."

Peter, who was standing next to the locker by the door and flipping through today's newspaper, looked up at Aunt May and Uncle Ben after hearing this and said, "I've already eaten, Aunt May, Uncle Ben."

“We didn’t see you eating anything.”

Uncle Ben shook his head. "Peter, don't tell me you eat out. If you buy food outside every day, your allowance won't be enough."

"Maybe I can make money myself."

Peter put down his newspaper and said to Uncle Ben, "I'm fine, Uncle Ben, so don't worry about me."

Aunt May disagreed with Peter. She put the plate on the table, wiped her hands with her apron, and walked over to Peter.

“You’ve been feeling down lately, I can tell, Peter. You’re a kid who can’t hide your feelings.”

As she spoke, she grasped Peter's hand, "Perhaps we can help you."

After a moment of silence, Peter looked up and gazed into Aunt May's worried eyes.

"I'm very good."

In the end, he still said something that slightly disappointed Aunt May.

Even though he hadn't spent much time with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, Peter could still feel their genuine care and concern.

But he couldn't tell the two of them about the problems he was facing.

This is not something that the two of them can solve.

Uncle Ben, sitting at the dining table, broke the silence in the room.

He stood up and said to Peter, "Peter, if you're not adjusting well to school, you can try taking a couple of days off. Maybe I can take you to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Didn't you say you wanted to experience it?"

"No, thank you, Uncle Ben."

Peter shook his head in refusal, "I'm not interested at the moment."

“Okay, maybe you think I’m being long-winded, but I still want to tell you, Peter, you don’t need to worry about this. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. You may not be a physically strong young man, but you have a brilliant mind. You are good at science.”

"And my talent is in spouting long-winded, profound truths."

Uncle Ben said in a very serious tone.

He coughed and picked up a notebook from the chair next to the sofa. “I know a formula that works for me no matter what, and I believe it will work for you too, Peter.”

As he spoke, he wrote a formula on it: "W/G^p==G^r"

"The greater the ability, the greater the responsibility."

Peter: "."

Peter fell silent upon hearing Uncle Ben utter that most famous line.

Why do I see an aura of death surrounding you, Uncle Ben?

"There's no such formula, Uncle Ben. Did you make it up yourself?"

After a moment, Peter looked up and asked Uncle Ben.

"Of course, I can explain the meaning of the symbols to you, for example, P represents..."

Uncle Ben was interrupted by Aunt May before he could finish speaking.

"Alright, Ben, stop with the long-winded explanations. I don't know what P stands for, but I know 'G' probably stands for 'funny'."

Aunt May walked over, glared at her husband, and patted Peter on the shoulder. "Our little Peter might need a rest. My ears are ringing from listening to him."

Ben shrugged helplessly after his wife exposed his blunder, "Okay, I might have talked a bit too much today."

Having dealt with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, Peter sat at his desk, browsing the web on his computer.

A soft buzzing sound came from downstairs; it was Aunt Mei using a vacuum cleaner to clean the floor.

Chemotherapy, hospital, radiation.

Peter typed in keywords into Google, and information on relevant hospitals in New York popped up.

After a battle with the Hand, he became convinced that the Xenomorph's genes were constantly influencing him.

Abnormal placentas can connect closely to various organs in the body, much like cancer cells.

Radiotherapy and chemotherapy can remove cancer cells, but they are unlikely to have any effect on the aberrant embryo.

Although they are ineffective against abnormal embryos, these hospitals have the best testing equipment, as well as drugs and methods to suppress cancer cells.

Even if medication cannot help suppress embryonic development, it is at least important to understand what mutations have occurred in the embryo within one's body.

New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

After some searching, Peter identified a hospital.

This hospital is one of the top medical systems in the United States, with its neurosurgery and oncology departments consistently ranking among the best in the country. Many presidents and high-ranking officials have received treatment here.

The next step is to raise some money.

It is well known that the American healthcare system has always been one of the worst.

He had previously heard of a "runner" who had fled to the United States and went to the hospital for treatment of back pain.

The dedicated and kind doctor simply talked to him attentively for fifteen minutes, and then politely saw him out.

The next day, this "runner" received a bill for $5670.

This left the "runner" utterly bewildered: Is a simple touch really worth $5670?!

It's worth noting that many experienced skilled workers in the United States only earn around a thousand dollars a week.

Seeing everyone's confusion, the doctor wrote a sentence on the bill: "Touch it, $10; Know where to touch it, $5660."

Runren: "."

Back to making money.

For a good person, it might take some time to make a sum of money while being law-abiding.

But for someone like him who arbitrarily tramples on the rules, making money should be the easiest thing.

Peter stood up and looked at the ticking clock on the wall.

The clock hands pointed to eleven o'clock; there was still some time before the middle of the night.

He needs to be ready to go after Aunt May and Uncle Ben have rested.

A wave of hunger washed over him; it was his body sending him a danger signal.

This was accompanied by a feeling of nausea in my throat.

Although the fusion of alien genes gave him physical abilities beyond those of ordinary humans, the discomfort in his body was a reminder to him.

He felt as if the Sword of Damocles hung over his head, ready to fall at any moment.

But if they fall, they will die from having their chest ripped open.

While waiting, Peter casually ate a little chocolate to consume a small amount of energy.

Peter didn't start until after midnight, after Aunt May and Uncle Ben had rested.

Peter grabbed a baseball cap from the cabinet and put it on, then quickly entered the neighborhood where, in his memory, the most notorious gangster area.

In the deep darkness of the night, his body almost blended into the blackness.

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Chapter 6: On the Little Matter of Making Money

Peter stood under the streetlight, his hands in his pockets, his gaze casually sweeping over the passing vehicles and pedestrians.

Bennhorst is probably one of the safest neighborhoods in Brooklyn.

Not only are thefts frequent, but drug trafficking and smuggling are also rampant.

The large immigrant population in the area, with its diverse ethnic mix, has led to social disorder and difficulty in management.

"Whoosh!"

A Lexus sped past him without slowing down at all.

Peter tightened his baseball cap and continued waiting for the fish to bite, his expression unchanged.

Even if you just rob a few thugs, you probably won't make much money.

He couldn't find the location of the gang's headquarters, so he had to resort to this wait-and-see approach.