94. Peter Parker’s Despair

Hiding in the bedroom, May held up a lamp. It was hardly a weapon, but it was the only thing she had left to cling to.

Nearly ten minutes had passed since Ben had told her to hide in the room, yet she had not heard a single sound from outside. The bedroom was so silent it might as well have been a graveyard.

“May? Darling, where are you?”

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through her wild thoughts, and she almost sprang to her feet at once to answer.

“Ben! I’m here! Are we safe now?”

The words had barely left her mouth when May sensed that something was wrong.

It had been Ben’s own instruction for her to hide in the bedroom. How could he possibly not know where she was?

And if that monster might still be nearby, why was he shouting so loudly? Was he not afraid of drawing it back?

Before the unease in her heart could even form into a clear thought, a figure had already appeared out of the darkness.

“Oh! Ben, you’re all right— I thought...?”

The tension in May’s chest just began to loosen, only to seize again in the next instant.

The head that emerged from the dark was indeed Ben’s face, but... only the head.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t this your beloved husband? That face of yours is really going to hurt his feelings, hahaha!”

Whip’s crazed laughter came from outside, and then one hand smashed through the wall. In an instant, it split into several tendrils like grasping limbs, reaching for May.

“Get away from her!!!!”

A furious roar suddenly cut off Whip’s words. A mass of webbing shot forward faster than the eye could follow, wrapping around Whip’s body.

Almost at the same moment, a boy in a red-and-blue skintight suit leaped down from the sky and drove a devastating kick straight into Whip.

It was Spider-Man, Peter Parker, finally back.

Force times mass times velocity equals destructive power.

That was a line some show-off loved to throw around, but with even a little middle-school physics, one could tell it was no empty boast at all—it was a very real formula.

Peter Parker, who had swung down from a great height, had already built up tremendous force, and with strength far beyond ordinary human limits, that kick was as shocking as thunder splitting the earth. If there had been a slab of concrete there, he would have shattered it to pieces.

Though Whip was a liquid symbiote, its core was still human. This blow was unavoidable, landing squarely on him, and at once a barrage of crackling bone splinters rang out.

“Ahhh! It hurts, it hurts! Damn you, bastard, aaaaah!”

Whip’s body bent at an angle no human should ever be able to make, yet under the adhesive pull of the dark orange symbiote matter, it rapidly returned to normal.

Spider-Man froze for a moment at the sight, but he did not hesitate long before attacking Whip again.

“Useless, useless, hahahahaha!”

Facing Spider-Man’s relentless flurry, Whip laughed madly, his hands transforming into blade-like shapes as he slashed back, forcing Spider-Man to retreat and dodge.

Because his weakness could not be found, because he was nearly impossible to kill, because even the slightest touch of his attacks could be fatal, Whip was still far too strong for Peter Parker at this moment, despite being only a lesser, common sort among symbiotes.

“Damn it... Aunt May, where’s Uncle Ben? We need to run!”

In his panic, Peter even forgot to keep up the pretense of being Spider-Man and blurted out “Aunt May” directly.

“Oh? As for Uncle Ben... isn’t he right here?”

Before May could say anything, Whip laughed and pointed toward the round head lying in the distance, leaving Peter Parker staring wide-eyed in rage.

“You damn bastard!!”

He had just been telling May to escape quickly, but the instant he saw Ben’s body, his eyes went red. The web-shooters in his hands sprayed without any regard for supply, while his fists and feet hammered at the enemy like mad.

But it was all useless. His blows barely registered on Whip, and the webbing that worked so well on others had only limited effect here.

Instead, Whip grew more and more excited with each exchange, taunting Spider-Man all the while and seizing every opening to carve several new wounds into him.

The cuts were not deep, nor were they fatal, but they hurt terribly all the same. Even if Peter Parker were a fool, by now he could tell his enemy intended to toy with him to death.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it... No, I have to run... But what about Aunt May? Can I escape if I take her with me? How am I supposed to run? What even is this monster? Is Uncle Ben really dead?”

The more dire the situation became, the more panic seized his heart. Peter Parker was, after all, only a high school kid who had just gained power. How could he possibly remain calm when the knife was at his throat?

His head was filled with scattered thoughts, so much so that even his counterattacks grew sluggish, let alone any plan to break the deadlock.

“What’s wrong, my superhero? Is that all you’ve got? It was fools like you who put me in this state in the first place. Thinking about it now really makes me... angry!!”

Whip suddenly increased the force in his hands. Peter failed to notice in time, and a slash tore from his chest down into his abdomen, leaving a huge wound behind.

“Puh...”

After coughing up a mouthful of blood, Peter Parker no longer had the strength to support himself. He sank weakly to his knees, though his head still remained stubbornly raised, his eyes seeming to blaze with fire.

“It’s you... It was you!! I should have caught you that day!!!”

Only then did Peter Parker remember who this was, and remember how, out of a petty desire for revenge, he had let the man go.

But there are no medicines for regret in this world. No matter how bitterly he regretted it, it was already too late.

“Ah, I’m so glad you recognized me in the end. That way, killing you will actually mean something.”

Whip laughed uproariously and, in doing so, revealed the human face hidden within.

After a symbiote parasitizes a host, it is influenced by the first host’s personality. Whatever Whip had originally been, by now it had become bloodthirsty and deranged.

Peter Parker burned with fury, and at the same time felt overwhelming sorrow over his own helplessness. He also worried that after his death, Aunt May would be subjected to whatever cruelty awaited her.

All sorts of emotions churned together in his mind, until he felt he might scream, might howl.

Unfortunately, he also knew that such things meant nothing. If he had even a moment to spare, it would be better spent thinking of a way to deal with the enemy before him.

As a man destined to become a superhero, Peter Parker undoubtedly had the basic qualities of one. Regrettably, his power was still insufficient, and no amount of last-minute inspiration could save him from the enemy he now faced.

“Is this really it... Is everything ending like this...”

As though by fate, as though by coincidence, Peter Parker let out the same despairing lament as Ben Parker had once done.

“Your takeout’s getting cold. Better go pick it up.”

Suddenly, a voice that belonged to neither of the three present, nor to the symbiote, cut in. Then Peter Parker saw, in his line of sight, a greatsword wreathed in flames.