Chapter 42: Brand-New Power Part 1

Fidgeting restlessly, I—Peter Parker—glanced around the room.

A glass-paneled ceiling.
Despite the bright daylight outside, the lights inside were still on.
A space about as wide as a school gymnasium.
White, smooth walls made of some unknown material.

The whole place had a kind of artistic curve to it, as if shaped by a designer's hand.

In other words, this was no ordinary room.

And, naturally, the person who owned such a place wasn’t ordinary either.

I sat in a chair, waiting for him.

A line appeared across the white-painted wall… then it opened.
It was only now that I realized it was a sliding door. Otherwise, it blended in perfectly with the wall.
Looks like it’d be a hassle for everyday use, I thought.

But the one who came through from the other side wasn’t the person I was waiting for.

I shifted to sit back down.

Actually, what came in wasn’t even a person.

It was a robot.

Instead of legs, it had three wheels.
On top was a single mechanical arm.
Resting on a tray-like platform was a glass.

The robot slowly rolled toward me and offered the glass.

"Ah, thanks..."

I said, taking the glass.

…A dark, fizzy drink.
Probably cola.
No—more like 90% sure it’s cola.

"This is cola," came a voice.

See?

The robot in front of me—J.A.R.V.I.S.—spoke.

No matter how you look at it, it’s a retro-looking robot, but in reality, it’s a cutting-edge AI-powered butler.
The robot itself doesn’t house the AI; it communicates remotely with a central supercomputer, which controls it.

I drank the cola in one go and handed the glass back to J.A.R.V.I.S.

"So then… is Mr. Stark—"

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Got a bit tied up.”

A slightly loud—deliberately attention-seeking—voice echoed through the room.

He looked to be in his early forties.
Short beard, neatly trimmed hair.
Wearing a black suit with a white shirt, but no tie, and the top two buttons left undone.

You could tell, just from his appearance, that he was both meticulous and free-spirited.

He was the person I’d been waiting for.

Tony Stark—better known as Iron Man.

Iron Man.
One of the de facto leaders of the hero team known as the Avengers.
A genius scientist and CEO of the major corporation Stark Industries.
He dons a self-made armored suit and fights as Iron Man.

He’s a senior hero I really admire.
He once let me temporarily join the Avengers, covered for me when my identity was nearly exposed, and even helped fund my school.
For someone like me, who doesn’t have parents… he’s not exactly a “father,” but—well, I kind of see him as a guardian.
Even if that’s just one-sided.

"Mr. Stark!"

I stood up to greet him—

"Ah ah, easy there. Stay, stay. Peter, hugging guys isn’t my thing."

Waving his right hand lazily, Stark stood before me.

He snapped his fingers, and the floor under him opened, bringing up a chair.
He plopped into it with a thud.

"You should sit down too... Huh? Where’s the cola?"

"…Huh? J.A.R.V.I.S. gave it to me."

I remembered the cola I just drank.
…Ah. Apparently, that was supposed to be his.

"…Well, whatever. So? What’s up, Peter? It’s rare for you to come to me."

"W-Well… a lot’s happened."

I averted my gaze.

A lot really did happen.

Mainly—

"‘A lot’... You mean that building you wrecked?"

I turned to him, startled.

He sipped from the cola handed to him by J.A.R.V.I.S., wearing the look of someone who already knew everything.

"You knew?"

"More or less. I asked J.A.R.V.I.S. what went down while I was away. Got a report from Rhodey too."

Rhodey.
Full name: James “Rhodey” Rhodes.
A soldier, and Mr. Stark’s best friend.
He’s also a hero, going by the name “War Machine,” and part of the Avengers…

"Wait, didn’t the Avengers head into space to fight the… Kree Empire, or something?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, we did. It was a nightmare, honestly. I’ve been swamped cleaning up after all that... You get it, right? I’m pretty much the only one who can handle paperwork properly. The rest are all stiff ex-soldiers or shiny mohawked space drifters."

Stark let out a bitter smile, like he’d just swallowed something sour.

Right.
Even if War Machine’s part of the Avengers, he’s still a military man, so he probably didn’t go to space.

I nodded, thinking I understood now.

"Well, that’s all in the past. I’m not interested in things that are already over. This is about you now—what do you need? …Oh, and just so you know, my secrets for charming cute girls are strictly classified."

"…If you keep talking like that, Ms. Potts is going to scold you again."

Virginia “Pepper” Potts.
Mr. Stark’s secretary—and wife.

"I landed someone as cute as Pepper, so clearly my methods work, right? Case closed."

Watching Mr. Stark act like a clown, I gave a wry smile, remembering why I’d come here—to Stark Tower.

Lately, I’ve fought a lot of supervillains.
Lizard. Rhino. Green Goblin… and Red Cap.

Especially Red Cap—I’ve been on the losing end every time.
Even against Lizard… If it weren’t for help, Gwen’s dad, Mr. George, would’ve died.

…I realized I needed more power.

Of course, I’ve been training.
Practicing web shots to be faster and more accurate.
Taking martial arts lessons from Iron Fist.

Ever since the fight with the Sinister Six, I’ve been working hard.

And today, I came here—to get stronger.

"Um, Mr. Stark?"

"What is it? Make it quick, I hate beating around the bush."

"The suit you made for me before… would it be okay if I kept it?"

That red and gold suit Mr. Stark made for me when enemies came invading from space—
It’s called the Iron Spider.

It had three mechanical limbs that extended from the back... The suit’s shock absorption was insane… I remember thinking, as expected of Mr. Stark.

But that suit was too powerful for the kind of low-profile hero work I do in New York—what you'd call your "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man."
So Mr. Stark had been holding onto it for me.

"...Hmm, Peter? You remember what I told you back then?"

"'If you’re nothing without the suit, then you don’t deserve to wear it,' right?"

Those were his words.

What he really meant was—if you can't be a hero without power, then you were never meant to be one.
And having too much power can end up attracting even greater threats.

That was the idea.

"Exactly. So tell me, Peter… even knowing that, you still need the suit? That high-tech suit? Isn’t your handmade one enough?"

Mr. Stark looked me straight in the eye as he asked.

Just chasing power for its own sake is dangerous.
I get that.
But even so...

"When the time comes and someone needs help—if there’s something I could’ve done, but didn’t… I’d regret it so much I wouldn’t be able to live with myself."

Like—
If, back then, Red Cap hadn’t saved Harry when he was falling…

"I don’t want to live with the regret of not saving someone. That’s why I want to do everything I can now."

"And you think that includes needing the suit I made?"

"Yes. I believe… that’s the one thing I can do right now."

"I see."

Mr. Stark knocked twice on the armrest of his chair, then stood up.

The chair retracted into the floor with a quiet shhhk, disappearing as smoothly as it came.

He’d given his approval.

Overjoyed, I jumped up from my seat—

"For real? That’s a huge he—"

"Yeah, no. That suit? I scrapped it. Doesn’t exist anymore."

"...Huh? What?"

I couldn’t believe my ears.

"You know, the Iron Spider or whatever? It’s gone. I disposed of it."

"What!? Why would you do that!?"

"Ah—hey now, keep it down."

"...Sorry."

Okay, sure, I raised my voice a bit, but can you blame me?

Mr. Stark started walking toward the wall he’d entered from and continued speaking.

"I mean, it was outdated. Rushed job. I was never really satisfied with how it turned out."

"You’ve gotta be kidding…"

"Calm down. Deep breaths. Hoo-hoo-ha, like that."

"That’s not deep breathing—that’s a prenatal class exercise."

"Was it? Huh."

Even as I stared in disbelief at his deadpan joke, I tilted my head.

Just then, the door opened and J.A.R.V.I.S. returned.

"Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S. Good work."

Mr. Stark said that as he picked something off J.A.R.V.I.S.'s tray.

…It was a wristwatch.

Didn’t look particularly fancy.
More like something a rugged teenager would wear.
Looked durable, but not expensive.

Then, just like that, he held it up in one hand and—

"Here, catch."

—and tossed it toward me.

"Whoa—wah!"

I scrambled to catch it.
It was so light, I wondered if it was just a cheap toy with nothing inside.

But when I looked at the face, it showed the current time.
Okay, at least it's a real watch.

"...What is this?"

"Hmm? Well… just put it on for now."

I did as he said and strapped it onto my right wrist.
…Honestly, kind of cool.

"Now… open the dial. It’ll pop open, like click."

"Ah, okay…"

I opened the watch as instructed and found red, blue, and yellow buttons inside.

"Now, press them in this order—blue, red, blue, yellow."

"Got it… blue, red? Blue? Yellow…?"

I pressed the buttons in the sequence Mr. Stark gave me.

Then—suddenly, my vision went pitch black.

"Whoa!?"

Something enveloped me.
It didn’t even take a full second to realize that.

Immediately after, my vision returned.
And what I saw looked like something out of a video game… or a fighter jet cockpit.

I turned to Mr. Stark in protest.

"W-What is this!?"

"Still don’t get it? J.A.R.V.I.S., mirror."

With a snap of his fingers, Mr. Stark summoned a holographic panel in front of me.
It displayed my current reflection.

…Spider-Man.

But I’d come here today in casual clothes.

And this wasn’t my usual suit, either.

The black spider emblem on the chest… was white.
The spider’s front legs stretched all the way to my shoulders.
The red and blue color scheme was still there, but now with white accents throughout.

"This! Is a nano-machine suit."

"Nano-machines?"

I’d heard the term before.
Machines at the nanoscale—tiny enough to rival microorganisms in size.
So this meant—

"A mass of microscopic metal units, bonded into fibers. Strong, nearly unbreakable… and no need to suit up manually. You can jump into action anytime, anywhere as a superhero. So—what do you think? Isn’t this the suit you need most right now?"

"Th-thank you…"

I nodded and thanked him, though I was honestly more overwhelmed than anything.

"As for your web shooters—right, you don’t have those. You’ll have to prep those separately. Just stash them on you and clip ’em on when needed. Downsizing those? That’s your job. If I do everything for you, your brain’ll rot."

Then Mr. Stark accepted a thick stack of papers from J.A.R.V.I.S.

It looked like a dense textbook… which he promptly tossed to me.

"Whoa—hey!"

I scrambled to catch it and flipped through a few pages.

…Incredible.

It included the suit’s structure, maintenance instructions… even how to create the nanomachines themselves.

"The nano-machine maintenance kit will be shipped to your house later. It’s about the size of a game console—no need to worry about it crashing through your floor."

This level of support… honestly, it was overwhelming.

But I couldn’t help wondering—why is he doing all this for me?

The moment that thought crossed my mind, Mr. Stark spoke up, as if reading it straight from my face.

"Sigh... You’ve got potential. Not quite on my level, but you've got ability. And the right mindset. You’re a good kid… even if you look a little easy to fool. You’ve got a good grasp of science and tech. So basically, what I’m saying is—"

He scratched his head awkwardly, clearly a little embarrassed.

"Yeah… you’ve got what it takes to be a hero. Someday, when I’m older and can’t keep doing this hero gig, you kids’ll be the next Avengers."

"Mr. Stark…"

"Hey, don’t get the wrong idea, alright? I said you have the potential—I’m not saying you’re Avengers material just yet. This is about what’s to come. You’re still just a chick. And I’m, what… a chicken? Ugh, terrible metaphor—makes it sound like I’m some coward."

"Mr. Stark…"

Even with all that sentiment, he still managed to end it with a dumb joke.

I couldn’t help but laugh wryly, and then I gave him a nod.

"Alright, I think that wraps it up. To deactivate the suit, just tap the spider emblem on your chest four times in quick succession."

"Uh? Oh—okay, got it."

When I followed his instructions, the suit vanished without a trace—leaving me back in my normal clothes.

“The nanomachines are all stored in the watch. I haven’t really named it or anything... maybe something like ‘Spider Bracelet’... no, wait, that sounds lame. Forget I said that.”

Stark chuckled and started walking. I followed suit.

“By the way, Peter. Got any plans today?”

“Uh, no... not really.”

Well, it was Saturday. No school... and no job either—since my workplace got wrecked.

The Daily Bugle building’s still under repairs.

“Then how about we grab lunch together? You like burgers?”

“I do.”

“Perfect. If you’ve got anything you want to ask, ask me then. I’m older, so I can offer some advice... I’m a pretty decent guy, wouldn’t you say?”

I couldn’t deny that. Stark really was the kind of person who looked out for others.

“Okay then... there’s one thing I wanted to ask about. From earlier.”

“Earlier? What is it?”

“Uh... I was wondering if you had any tips on... how to get a cute girl to like you...”

When I said that, Stark blinked a few times—then gave me a look like are you serious?

“How’s it looking, Tinkerer?”

I was standing behind the Tinkerer, watching as he fiddled with my Red Cap suit using some bizarre device.

“Man... you really need to stop breaking this thing every other week.”

He grumbled as he ran a scan, muttering to himself while data flashed across the screen. I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

“...Can you fix it?”

“Hard to say.”

His half-hearted response made me uneasy.

“I need that suit. Without it, I...”

…I can’t act as a villain. Without the suit, I’m not Red Cap anymore.

“...I see.”

Tinkerer tilted his head like he was both exasperated and convinced, then nodded.

“Well, maybe it’s not just about fixing it. Might be time for an upgrade too. You broke it again fighting that Captain guy... seems like it’s overdue, don’t you think?”

“...Yeah, maybe. I guess you’re right.”

Honestly, I had no complaints about the suit. Its shock absorption had saved me countless times.

Without it, I couldn’t stand a chance against Spider-Man... Jessica Jones would’ve taken me out in one hit.

“Two months.”

Tinkerer held up two fingers.

“...Isn't that a bit too long?”

“We're talking about planning, refining, and actually carrying out a full upgrade of your suit plus prepping weapons—all in just two months! Two months will fly by… honestly, it's barely enough time.”

“...That’s true.”

Maybe I’d just gotten the wrong impression because Tinker's usual work speed was abnormally fast.

“Really, you should be thanking me. So yeah—no suit for two months.”

“But without the suit, I—”

“I'll notify the Unsilly Court. Just think of it as a long vacation, yeah?”

Tinker waved both hands casually.

“You're almost on summer break from school anyway, right?”

“...I am, but—”

“Come on, it's summer vacation. You're a student. Go hang out with your friends—hit the beach, the mountains… stuff like that matters too, you know?”

I frowned slightly.

A student… a high schooler at Midtown High… That’s a fake identity.

And the fact that I was clinging to it—that was something I didn’t want someone like Tinker, who's closely connected to the Unsilly Court, to find out.

“Fine…”

I nodded, pretending to be reluctantly convinced.

…Honestly, I was a little happy. But I made sure not to show it.

Keeping a poker face is something I’m good at.

“Well then, once it’s ready, I’ll get in touch through the Unsilly Court.”

Tinker gave me a wave, and I left his workshop.

Summer was beginning.

…That awful season when the sewers get hot, rot, and stink.

I gagged.