Chapter 101: Peter's Social Demise

At this moment, Peter did not have the voice modulator from his Spider suit.

But it mattered little. He deliberately lowered his voice, making it deeper, almost perfectly masking the childish tone, his vocal cords sounding mature and resonant.

Judging by the sound alone, he would seem several years older than his actual age—at least, that was his belief.

Peter?

Hearing those melodramatic words, coupled with the occasional childlike inflection breaking through his feigned gravitas, Gwen—Peter’s classmate of three years—instantly recognized the figure standing atop the moonlit steel beam.

And so, her gaze toward Peter changed entirely.

There was a hint of suppressed laughter in her eyes.

Few things are more mortifying than shouting embarrassing, adolescent lines in public during one's youth—those moments etched deep within, returning at night to provoke a self-directed curse.

The previously tense atmosphere vanished in an instant.

Peter, still pleased with his own performance, was left baffled.

This was a move taught by Hugh—the most dashing stance is to stand alone under the moon, and it should have been quite intimidating...why wasn’t she scared? Peter wondered inwardly.

He smoothly shifted his posture, subtly displaying the muscles that had begun to form beneath his tight suit.

The Moonlit Macho—Peter, limited edition, slightly diminished.

He glanced sideways, his voice bubbling with an exaggerated baritone, and asked, “Who are you?”

Pfft...hahaha—

Gwen quickly covered her mouth, lest she burst out laughing.

She only regretted not bringing a camera to record Peter’s moonlit display of bravado—his self-assured, supposedly suave demeanor. She vowed that when Peter grew up, she would play this footage for him on a relentless, round-the-clock loop...

Why was she covering her mouth?

Oh, I see. She’s awestruck by my aura... Clearly, Hugh’s second strategy was effective after all.

Freed from Hugh and Ivan’s restrictions, Peter’s childish nature emerged unmistakably.

Moreover, Ivan’s task was simply to prevent anyone from following the truck, so with time to spare, Peter decided to enjoy himself—after all, despite his ability to punch through a wall, he was still just a ten-year-old child.

But Gwen was different. She watched as the truck moved farther away, and had little time to waste with Peter here.

She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m in a hurry, I won’t play along.” Her voice, somehow, had become far more neutral, devoid of that soft, girlish timbre.

With that, Gwen looked toward the truck, preparing to leap once more across rooftops to follow it.

But—

Peter jumped down from the beam, blocking her path.

“You—” Gwen’s words were cut short as she suddenly realized something she had overlooked.

Peter was not wearing his brightly colored Spider suit.

Instead, he wore a silver-black tight-fitting stealth outfit.

Why?

Over the past month or two of Peter’s heroic career, no matter how damaged his suit became, a brand new one appeared the next day—thanks largely to Ivan’s exceptional tailoring.

That meant Peter almost never changed his suit.

So why had he changed clothes today—and now he was blocking her way...

A suspicion Gwen could hardly believe crept into her mind:

Was Peter in league with the truck?

The revelation struck her like thunder, making her even doubt if this person really was Peter.

In her memory, Peter had always been timid, but Gwen could sense the kindness at his core—he was not someone who would aid the wicked.

“Move aside!” Gwen’s tone grew colder.

She pressed forward—whether or not this was Peter, whether or not he was abetting evil, his next choice would answer everything.

Move aside...move aside... Gwen pleaded silently.

But—

Peter did not budge an inch.

That was answer enough for Gwen.

If she removed her mask, her face would be pale.

“Move,” Gwen repeated, her voice even more subdued.

Peter remained motionless.

Whoosh—

The silence broke abruptly. Gwen sprang forward, her small, delicate fist accompanied by a fierce rush of wind, showing not the slightest mercy as she struck at Peter!

At such close range, her punch was so fast it surpassed the limits of dynamic vision.

But Peter reacted in time.

He quickly bent back, creating some distance, then raised both hands to catch her fist firmly in his palms.

Bang!

The tremendous force of their clash pressed the air around them until it boomed.

Cracks spread across the floor beneath Peter’s feet, dust rising in all directions.

The blow ended, and Peter’s gaze toward Gwen changed.

This was only the second time he had faced such ferocious power—Hugh had been the first.

A formidable opponent; he had to take this seriously, Peter thought.

His body responded instantly. Having parried the punch, Peter clamped Gwen’s fist like a vice, then twisted his waist, spinning powerfully, his elbow raised high.

Crash—

With a jarring impact, Peter’s elbow struck Gwen’s head.

The force nearly made Gwen lose her balance. Dazed, she withdrew her fist and leapt backward, widening the gap between them.

The first clash between two spider-powered beings—Peter was victorious.

Their strength, reflexes, and speed were nearly equal—perhaps Peter was slightly stronger, while Gwen was a bit faster. But overall, their difference was negligible.

The decisive factor was combat skill.

Gwen had never received formal combat training, neither before nor after gaining her powers; her fighting style remained at the level of “cute little fists pounding your chest”—though her “little fists” could shatter bones.

Peter, however, had undergone constant training in combat techniques from Hugh, both before and after becoming superpowered.

He knew how to use his body as a weapon.

For example, when his hands were occupied, Peter immediately resorted to an elbow strike—something Gwen couldn’t execute instinctively.

She was easily outmatched.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in her head, Gwen’s hazy eyes still refused to yield, locking onto Peter’s figure.

Her face beneath the mask grew more serious.

This encounter made her realize—without a doubt, the person blocking her, suspected of being the truck’s accomplice, was indeed Peter.