Rampaging Through the Heavens: Starting by sending Chan Ho-nam to Stanley

Chapter 211 Wrestling

Outside the school.

A quiet alley.

On both sides were mottled red brick walls, and garbage and cigarette butts were scattered on the ground. A damp, musty smell permeated the air.

At the end of the alley was a dead wall, about three meters high, with broken glass stuck on top.

Peter stood in the middle of the alley and looked around.

nobody.

He took a deep breath, and then he jumped up.

With a light jump, as if stepping on a spring, he soared into the air, leaping more than two meters high.

His head nearly hit the second-floor windowsill, which startled him so much that he reached out and grabbed at it, his fingers digging into the gaps between the wall tiles.

He hung on the wall and looked down at the ground.

Three meters off the ground.

He wasn't afraid at all.

I was even a little excited.

He released his grip, landed softly, and his feet made almost no sound when they touched the ground.

Then he tried to climb up.

He pressed his palm against the brick wall, and it stuck.

He then stuck his other hand on it, and it stuck there too.

He tried to move up one step, but his foot stuck to the wall.

Peter pressed himself against the wall like a gecko.

He started climbing.

At first, it was very slow, stopping every few steps, afraid of falling. But soon they got the hang of it, using both hands and feet to leap upwards.

three seconds.

He climbed to the rooftop.

Peter stood on the rooftop, panting heavily.

It wasn't because I was tired, it was because I was excited.

He looked at his hands, at the white threads gushing from his wrists, and at the enormous city beneath his feet.

It can climb walls, jump very far, shoot spider silk from its wrists, and its body becomes incredibly strong.

He just tried it.

With a casual punch, he smashed the discarded brick in the alley into pieces.

This is real.

He really did mutate.

It has also become more powerful.

Peter stood on the rooftop, facing the wind, with his arms outstretched.

The sunlight shone on his face, warm and comforting.

The corners of his mouth turned up.

For the first time, he felt that the world wasn't so scary.

For the first time, he realized that those who bullied him weren't so scary.

For the first time, he felt he could become someone.

spider.

That spider.

The glass case at the science center and the words the guide had spoken flashed through his mind.

"Their reflexes are incredibly fast... Many researchers believe they have precognitive abilities."

"It can weave spider webs as strong as the steel cables used in construction..."

"Using leaping to catch prey..."

"The genes of these three spiders are mixed together..."

Peter touched his neck, wondering if he had been bitten by a spider.

school.

After school.

Peter walked out of the school gate with his schoolbag on his back.

His steps were much lighter than usual, and he had an undisguised smile on his face.

Then he saw Mary Jane.

She stood at the school gate, leaning against the railing, her red hair like a ball of fire in the setting sun.

She wore a light blue sweater, jeans, and white sneakers today—simple yet stunningly beautiful.

Peter's heart started racing.

He took a deep breath and walked over.

"Hi, Mary Jane."

His voice trembled slightly, but he did not back down.

Mary Jane turned her head, saw him, and smiled.

"Hi, Peter."

"I'm sorry about what happened today..."

Peter scratched his head.

"That plate hit your boyfriend."

Mary Jane shrugged and glanced at Fish, who was limping in the distance.

He's not my boyfriend anymore.

Peter paused for a moment.

We broke up.

Mary Jane's tone was flat, as if she were saying that the weather was nice today.

A firework exploded in Peter's heart.

But he didn't show it; he just nodded.

"oh."

"You were amazing today."

Mary Jane looked at him with a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

"How did you do that?"

"I..."

Peter thought for a moment and then said.

"I used to practice gymnastics."

"gymnastics?"

"Yes, gymnastics."

Mary Jane smiled and didn't ask any further questions.

The two walked side by side for a while.

The setting sun slowly sank behind them, turning the sky orange-red.

"Peter."

"Um?"

Have you ever thought about buying a car?

Peter paused for a moment.

"car?"

"right."

Mary Jane smiled.

"If you have a car, we can go out and have fun together."

Another firework exploded in Peter's heart.

"I...I'll figure something out."

He returned home, sat on his bed, and his mind was filled with Mary Jane's words.

"If you have a car, we can go out and have fun together."

He needs money.

He opened the drawer and took out today's newspaper.

The page with job postings was densely packed with various job opportunities.

Restaurant server, supermarket cashier, gas station attendant, tutor, newspaper deliveryman.

But the salary for each job was pitifully low, and it would take forever to save enough for a car.

His gaze shifted downwards.

Then it stopped.

[Hiring wrestlers]

[Survive in the arena for three minutes and win $3,000!]

Three thousand US dollars.

three minutes.

Three thousand US dollars.

Peter stared at the line of text, his heart pounding.

Three minutes, three thousand dollars.

If he can do that, he'll have a car.

He looked at the address: Hell's Kitchen, West 47th Street, underground wrestling arena.

Peter folded the newspaper and put it in his pocket.

Hell's Kitchen.

One of the most chaotic neighborhoods in New York.

The air reeked of marijuana and urine; half the streetlights were broken, the other half swaying precariously in the night wind, emitting...

A buzzing sound from the electricity.

The walls are covered with graffiti, with symbols and letters that are incomprehensible.

Several homeless people were squatting in the corner, wrapped in tattered sleeping bags, with half-empty bottles of liquor next to them.

The entrance to the underground wrestling arena was behind an abandoned building, a rusty iron gate.

Two burly men stood at the door, one bald and the other with a mohawk, both wearing black T-shirts, their arms thicker than Peter's thighs.

Peter walked over.

"What do you do?"

The bald, burly man looked down at him, his eyes filled with contempt.

"Here to compete."

The bald, burly man looked him up and down, his lips twitching.

"you?"

"right."

The two stared at each other for three seconds.

The bald, burly man stepped aside.

Peter pushed open the iron gate and went inside.

Behind the door was a long, dimly lit corridor with posters of various wrestling matches on the walls.

At the end of the corridor was an even larger door, behind which came deafening cheers and whistles.

Peter pushed open the door.

A wave of heat hit us.

This is a huge underground space, which may have originally been a warehouse or parking lot.

The surrounding area consisted of simple stands made of steel pipes and wooden planks, which were filled with people.

Men, women, the elderly, and the young, dressed in various clothes, held beer bottles in their hands, cigars in their mouths, and had fanatical expressions on their faces.

In the center of the arena was a ring enclosed by ropes; it wasn't large, but it was sufficient.

The floor of the ring was covered in sweat and blood, and the ropes were worn white.

Offstage, countless guests shouted wildly.

"Kill him!"

"Arise! Arise!"

"Cripple him!"

On the field, a huge, muscular man was mercilessly dominating his opponent.

He was at least two meters tall, weighed 250 pounds, and had bulging muscles all over his body, like a mountain of flesh.

His opponent was a man smaller than him, who was being lifted above his head and thrown off the ring like trash.

"Bang!"

The man crashed to the ground, bounced twice, and then remained motionless.

The referee raised the muscular man's hand.