American comics: Starting with replicating Superman's talent

Chapter 303 Black Fist Peter

"Dangerous? What a joke!"

Tony Stark, the man with the flamboyant mustache, chuckled dismissively. He opened his mouth as if to utter a few harsh words, but remembering the blond youth who was only visible to him, he swallowed them back.

"I see."

As if possessed, Tony slowly tightened his grip on the card in his hand.

Even though you're a billionaire with the world's top bodyguard team, having more options means having more paths to take, right?

With that in mind, Tony was about to look up and ask the other person for more details.

My gaze swept across the edge of the pool, but there was nothing there.

It was as if the boy who had appeared earlier was just a figment of her imagination.

But the cold card in his hand clearly reminded Stark that none of this was an illusion, but a real reality.

Early in the morning.

"Beep beep beep~"

The shrill alarm clock woke Peter from his deep sleep.

"It's noisy!"

The disheveled boy raised his hand and slapped it down.

"Bang!"

A loud cracking sound instantly woke Peter.

My body instinctively got up.

"Whoosh!"

The figure that was lying flat on the bed suddenly leaped up, its hands and feet sticking to the ceiling at a speed that was even faster than the speed at which Peter's brain was working.

"Uh, where am I?"

Peter, slowly waking up, opened his eyes in a daze, only to see the upside-down furniture all around him.

"Oh, shit!"

Although Peter was a little dazed when he woke up in the morning, he still managed to figure out what had happened.

His hands were glued to the ceiling, the strong suction pulling Peter so that he could support his entire body while hanging.

"What am I doing?!"

Peter took a deep breath, his chest heaving, and the barbs in his palm slowly retracted. He lightly leaped and flipped onto the oak plank.

"I feel full of energy."

Peter looked at his arms with excitement. His once withered arms were now full of muscles, and the full power contained in every inch of muscle made Peter want to burst out laughing.

"Mr. Gino is telling the truth!"

Peter clenched his fists; he had actually become a superhero!

No, it should be called extraordinary ability!

"By the way, where is Mr. Gino now?"

Peter Parker took out his phone to contact the mysterious and powerful blond boy; he had so many questions he wanted to ask him.

For example, how did you acquire your abilities?

How to become a superhero?

What do superheroes do?

These questions swirled in his mind, making him eager to know the truth, but suddenly he discovered something embarrassing.

I don’t seem to have Mr. Gino’s contact number.

Peter scratched his head, somewhat helplessly, and got dressed before going downstairs.

Like most protagonists in stories, Peter, who grew up without parents, lived with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

Both elderly people were kind and compassionate, and they educated Peter in his values ​​very well.

"Ben, you can't keep working night shifts. The doctor said your blood pressure has reached a very dangerous level."

In the living room on the first floor, Aunt Mei, a thin old woman, held the arm of her husband, an old man with white hair, with eyes full of heartache and said, "The family can't be without you."

"I know, Mei, I know my own body."

Uncle Ben, the kind old man, chuckled and took Aunt May's arm, saying, "I just want to save more money for Peter's college tuition."

It's important to know that tuition fees for American college students are not cheap, and many even take out loans to attend school, thus incurring huge debts.

Listening to their conversation, Peter, hiding upstairs, felt a lump in his throat. He knew that he should perhaps do something for the elderly couple who had worked so hard to raise him.

"Use my own."

Peter lowered his head thoughtfully, staring at his hands.

With a cracking sound as he clenched his fist, Peter's gaze hardened: "Power! Do something!"

The boy went back to his computer desk, turned on the computer, and started searching on the local forums by scrolling the mouse wheel.

Soon, a prominent job posting appeared on the computer screen.

"Boxers are paid per boxing match, with a reward of one thousand US dollars. The more capable they are, the more they earn."

"A boxing match." Peter said thoughtfully, looking down at his hands.

He didn't know the limits of his strength, but defeating an adult was probably no problem for him!

late at night.

A large basement near Hell's Kitchen in New York City was packed with people who came to watch the game.

They could be assembly line workers just coming out of a rotting slaughterhouse, or they could be sewer cleaners.

In any case, very few people who can be found in this basement are connected to high-end individuals.

On the wooden stage, the host, dressed in cheap, wrinkled clothes, opened his arms and shouted, "Good evening, everyone!"

"Fuck you!"

"Doug, you little bastard, get started and stop talking nonsense!"

These people have no manners; they were cursing and laughing as they urged the host to start.

"Okay, everyone."

The man known as Doug, with a mustache, smiled and opened the white paper in his palm, reading from the script: "The first match is between the Thunder, currently holding a three-game winning streak, and the first rookie, Spider-Boy!"

"Place your bets now!"

As the man shouted, someone soon walked towards the crowd with a hood specifically for collecting money.

People threw their US dollars into the hoodies of the athletes whose names were written on them.

There were clearly more people suppressing Thunder than Spider-Boy.

However, some astute individuals believe that with such low odds, they are going against the grain and intend to bet on Spider-Boy to make a fortune.

As everyone dropped their chips, the iron gates on both sides of the underground passage opened quickly, and a burly man wearing a philosophical hood swaggered onto the ring.

His opponent, a slightly thin man wearing a red mask, walked timidly onto the ring.

The two stood on the huge arena, accompanied by lights and music, and the shouts of the crowd made Peter feel somewhat dazed.

"clang!"

As the bell rang, Peter was surprised to see his body instinctively twisting to beg for the incoming iron fist.

"Oh, has the battle begun?"

Peter tilted his head and raised his hand to punch his opponent in the face.

Of course, this was after the force had been reduced.

"Bang!"

The iron fist slammed into the burly man's cheek, and the next second the man collapsed like a stiff corpse.

The entire exchange between the two lasted less than three seconds.

"I...I won?" Peter looked at his fist in surprise, but then the angry shouts and cheers from the sidelines interrupted his thoughts.

"The winner is Spider-Man!"

When the referee raised Peter's right hand, he also announced the winner of the match.

Peter could even see a thousand dollars beckoning to him.

(End of this chapter)