Chapter 102: Take Me to the Bell Divine Clinic

Bang, bang, bang—

Every clash between Gwen and Peter sent a surge of force rippling through the air, erupting into explosive sounds like the breaking of the sound barrier. The distortion of the air was visible to the naked eye. Had they not been in a deserted new district, the commotion alone would have drawn crowds of curious night owls.

Gwen’s learning ability was extraordinary; as the battle progressed, she seemed to evolve. At first, she relied on her remarkable healing, quickly recovering from the dizzying elbow strike Peter had landed. Old grudges and new injuries merged, and she dove back into the fray without hesitation.

Though their strength was nearly equal, the gap in combat skill left Gwen at a clear disadvantage. In the early exchanges, she gained nothing—her attacks were consistently countered, her defenses were always breached. Yet with her powerful physique and stubborn will, Gwen pressed on, learning swiftly as she fought.

Soon, she began to adapt, no longer striking blindly as if she were an empty canvas, her small fists pounding Peter’s chest in vain. Instead, she started to use her body with greater agility, anticipating Peter’s moves. Still, the gap remained vast...

Gwen thought ruefully, feeling the ache in every fiber of her body. She hated to admit it, but the gulf between her and Peter could not be bridged in the short term.

She watched as Peter, seemingly untouched, stood before her in black, his hands forming an impenetrable barrier. Gwen hatched a plan, deciding not to waste any more time battling him.

Mostly, she just couldn’t win... Gwen saw no reason to persist—she had no masochistic tendencies.

Whoosh—

Feigning a punch, Gwen pivoted, using the opening in Peter’s defense to launch herself toward the building in the direction of the truck, legs propelling her with sudden force.

Peter reacted instantly, relaxing his tense body and twisting to pursue Gwen in a flash.

As much as he enjoyed trouncing her—especially since her combined strength and reflexes nearly matched his—his mission was clear: he could not let her reach the truck. Peter never forgot that.

Running swiftly to the building’s edge, Peter reflexively prepared to use his web-shooters to swing across to the opposite structure. Then he remembered Xi’s instructions.

He couldn’t reveal his identity... Peter reminded himself.

Watching the black-and-white figure leap effortlessly across the gap, spanning more than ten or twenty meters, Peter took a deep breath, sprinted briefly, and jumped!

Then, tracing a perfect parabola, he plummeted toward the ground...

???

On the way down, Peter was utterly baffled.

How could Gwen clear the gap so easily while he failed? Their physical abilities were nearly identical!

Ahead, Gwen prepared to leap to the next building, glancing back at Peter’s fall, a smile blooming beneath her mask.

At last, she had bested him in something... Gwen thought joyfully.

Their physical prowess was similar, but just as Gwen’s lack of combat skill left her outmatched, so too did technique determine the victor when raw ability was equal.

Over the past month, Gwen had honed her parkour skills: minimizing airborne resistance, optimizing force application, perfecting jump trajectories. She hadn’t mastered the ideal method, but she was far ahead of Peter, who was a complete novice.

In parkour, Peter’s brute-force leaps paled in comparison to Gwen’s calculated moves.

But...

When the web-shooter’s sharp sound cut through the air, Peter swung toward Gwen at high speed, clutching the milky-white web with both hands.

Gwen’s smile froze instantly.

Without turning back, she seized the moment and continued running toward the truck!

————

After receiving the alert, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on duty in New York arrived at the devastated Stark Industries weapons research division before the police could respond.

Agent Raphael was stunned by the ferocity of the battle as he first stepped inside.

Their deployment wasn’t slow—in fact, it was rapid, easily ten times faster than the police. Yet in that brief window, the enemy had inflicted heavy casualties and wreaked havoc on the surrounding buildings.

What kind of being could do this?

“Sir, they’re still breathing, their pupils respond, but for some unknown reason, they’ve fallen unconscious and can’t be awakened.”

Raphael listened to the report from an agent crouched beside a Stark security guard.

He fell into deep thought. In other words, the enemy hadn’t killed anyone, but had rendered the guards incapable of action.

This meant the enemy’s goal wasn’t simply slaughter or uncontrolled violence. Their foe was logical and intelligent.

The thought made Raphael scratch his head; he dreaded enemies who were not only powerful, but cunning and disciplined.

What was the intruder’s aim in breaking into Stark Industries?

Raphael glanced at the agents busy investigating nearby. He figured it wouldn’t be long before he had an answer.

“Agent Raphael, you might want to take a look over here!”

Hearing the call from a nearby agent, Raphael withdrew his gaze from the fallen guards and walked toward the voice.

This was the most devastated section of the weapons research division.

The scorched earth looked as if it had been bombarded relentlessly, walls shattered and scarred, ground cracked, and not far away lay a pool of unidentified metallic debris.

This wreckage was little more than scrap metal, testament to the battle’s intensity.

The agent who called Raphael was freshly graduated from the academy, still young. He was crouched beside the second steel wreckage, which was more intact than the first—its torso remained whole, though the abdomen was pierced and the right arm severed. Judging by the blood trickling out, there was someone inside.

“What’s wrong?” Raphael approached and asked.

The young agent pressed his ear to the mask of the steel automaton and said, “Sir, the person inside is still alive!”

Alive?

Raphael’s interest was piqued. He stepped forward, mimicking the young agent and placing his ear against the mask.

He heard a broken, intermittent voice:

“Take... take me... to... Bell... Bell... Bell Sanctuary... Clinic...”