Chapter 56: Birthday Song - Part 3

After talking it out with Harry, we discovered something surprising.

We’re both trainees—agents-in-training for S.H.I.E.L.D.

…Fury definitely knew, and kept quiet on purpose.

I’ve got my symbiote-host superpowers.

Harry’s got his own—something like drugs?—that enhanced his body and gave him superpowers too.

So before being S.H.I.E.L.D. trainees, we’re just young people with superpowers.

Does Fury want to build some kind of youth-only Avengers team?

It’s hard not to suspect that.

And then, there’s one major problem both Harry and I share.

"Emotional control."

That’s what Dr. Banner said.

“Telling someone not to get angry… that’s easy. But actually controlling it? That’s the hard part.”

He tapped on his tablet, and a hologram appeared.

It was some kind of academic paper.

“They say the peak of anger lasts less than ten seconds. Just wait it out, calm yourself down. Can you do that?”

Harry and I exchanged a glance and nodded.

“But what about when you just can’t hold back the anger? What do you think you should do then?”

Dr. Banner asked.

Harry raised his hand and opened his mouth to answer.

…This is starting to feel like a classroom lecture.

“Maybe… develop some kind of routine to blow off steam?”

“That works. But Harry—there’s still anger that can’t be quelled. Like, say… if someone hurt one of my friends—”

Dr. Banner gripped the tablet in his hand tightly.

There was a creaking sound as it bent.

“I’d knock them out… swing them around by the legs… smash them into a wall… drag them across the floor. Then, I’d probably feel better.”

“I—I see…”

Harry backed off a bit, clearly thrown.

…Dr. Banner looks like a scrawny intellectual type, but maybe he’s actually more of a powerhouse.

“There’s the kind of anger that fades, and the kind that never does. That second kind—you don’t have to force it down.”

“We don’t have to?”

This was supposed to be a lecture on controlling emotions. Was it okay for him to say something like that?

I was skeptical.

“Exactly. That’s what we call ‘righteous anger.’ Use it to unleash your strength—but do the right thing with it. And always come back from that anger. That’s the key.”

Dr. Banner spoke like someone who’d lived through it.

Harry and I nodded along.

…Harry probably knows who this man really is. Or what kind of person he used to be. I’ll ask him later.

“So what you two need isn’t the ability to suppress your anger—it’s the ability to channel that anger into the right actions, and the strength to return from it. Today’s class will focus on the techniques and mindset for that.”

Dr. Banner handed out the materials to us.

…It was supposed to be training, but it really does feel like school.

I nodded and opened the material… a homemade textbook.

And then, after about two hours—

Class ended, and Harry and I left the lab.

Dr. Banner sat back down at his desk and started sketching diagrams on paper.

Balancing regular work and keeping an eye on us… is he just a total workaholic?

Thinking something kind of rude, I stepped into the elevator.

It was just me and Harry.

In the quiet elevator, soft music played.

Then, suddenly, Harry spoke up.

“Um, Gwen-san?”

“What?”

“Just… today, you know. Good work out there.”

“Yeah… same to you. Good work.”

I nodded at the vague small talk.

A buffer before the real topic—those were the words that came to mind.

“So… um, has anything changed?”

“…I’m sharing a body with this thing. Of course something’s changed.”

I pulled down the neck of my turtleneck, and the black symbiote writhed.

Since we’d left Dr. Banner, “Gwenom” had stopped being scared and was back to its energetic self.

“Ah… that was a poor choice of words. Sorry—”

“No apologies. I don’t think you did anything wrong, Harry, and I don’t regret it. We’re coworkers now, so try to relax a bit. You can just call me Gwen.”

Honestly, I was getting a little tired of Harry’s constant guilt.

I mean, it’s not like I’m unhappy right now.

“…Thank you.”

“You don’t need to be so formal, either.”

“Ah—thanks?”

“Yep, that works.”

I laughed lazily.

Relationships should be more relaxed.

Being burdened by someone else’s guilt and forced politeness gets exhausting.

Then I remembered what I wanted to ask, and opened my mouth.

“More importantly, Harry. What kind of person is Dr. Bruce Banner?”

“What kind…? Well, just like he looks. A kind, gentle, smart teacher.”

“No, I mean… isn’t he hiding something, or like—something deeper—”

One thought popped into my head.

“Like… people who get dangerous when they’re angry, like us?”

“Ah—yeah… wait, Gwen, you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Dr. Banner’s hero name.”

Hero name…?

So he really is a hero, then.

…But I’m not exactly an expert on heroes. I wasn’t sure if I’d know who he was.

“Quit dragging it out and tell me already.”

“Dr. Banner is the Hulk.”

“…The Hulk?”

The Hulk… as in—

“You mean that huge, green, muscle-bound giant?”

“That’s right.”

“The one who throws trucks around like toys?”

“Exactly.”

“You—you’re kidding, right?”

“It’s true.”

I rubbed the corner of my eyes.

“The Hulk.”

The green giant.

Around two meters tall.

Massively muscular, shirtless upper body.

Letting out beast-like roars and tearing enemies apart, flinging them left and right. A hero who gets stronger the angrier he becomes—or so the rumors say.

…No, honestly, calling him a hero feels almost too generous—he’s kind of too wild for that.

Ah, that explains it.

I thought Dr. Bruce Banner was just affiliated with the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D.… but that’s not it.

He is an Avenger himself.

Now it all makes sense.

“…Yeah, no wonder he’s the perfect person to teach us about emotional control.”

“No doubt about it.”

Harry crossed his arms and nodded.

“But how do you know? His name and face aren’t in any newspapers… did he tell you himself?”

“No, Fury told me.”

…Excuse me?

He tells you but not me?

Next time I see him, I’m definitely calling him out on that.

I clenched my fist, and Harry gave a sheepish smile.

“…Haha, sounds like you’re also not a fan of Fury’s whole secret-keeping thing, huh?”

“Pretty much. You too?”

“Yeah, just the other day he suddenly put me on a plane… and flew me all the way to Africa.”

“Wow… I don’t even know what to say. Rough.”

“I’m just glad to know someone else who’s had to deal with his unreasonable surprises.”

Harry and I exchanged a look and shared a dry laugh.

Then the elevator reached the first floor.

…I kinda still wanted to talk a bit more.

That feeling came to me naturally.

Harry might give off a bit of a playboy vibe, but in reality he’s a genuinely good guy with a straightforward, sincere personality.

…Personally, I wish Michelle would pick him over Peter.

“Hey Harry, do you have time?”

“I do… is something up?”

“Wanna hear about Michelle?”

His cheek twitched slightly.

Knew it.

He’d been wanting to ask while we were talking.

…Still, he never tried to bring up another girl while talking to me—maybe that’s his principle, or just his way of being considerate.

Well, I don’t really care about that stuff.

I turned to Harry and pointed at a café on the first floor of Avengers Tower.

“That café over there… if you’re buying, I might be willing to talk.”

“…Alright. Leave it to me. I may not look it, but I’ve got a bit of money.”

“Not look it? You totally do. You’ve got rich boy written all over you.”

“R-rich boy…? I am older than you, you know…?”

I laughed.

Harry looked a little hurt.

The two of us walked into the café.

…There was something called a “Hulk Matcha Latte.”

It was one of those Avengers-themed menu items. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

For the record, it was pretty good.

…My name’s Eddie Brock.

I said my goodbyes to the guard and left Rikers Prison.

With a foul taste in my mouth, like I’d chewed on something bitter.

『Hey, Eddie… that guy just now, he’s seriously messed up.』

“Yeah, agreed. That’s the first time I’ve ever met… someone that dangerous.”

Cletus Kasady.

A psycho serial killer.

I knew he was insane, but… this was worse than I imagined.

It’s not about liking or hating him.

There’s a kind of revulsion—something incomprehensible about him.

…I’ve talked to a lot of criminals in my time as a journalist, but I’ve never felt this way before.

I straddled my motorcycle… and then noticed a cop approaching.

An older guy with a beard.

“You’re Eddie Brock, right?”

“…And you are? How about introducing yourself first?”

“I’m Patrick Mulligan. Detective, NYPD.”

He flashed a police badge.

Looked legit.

Though I couldn’t tell a real one from a fake if I tried.

“Did Cletus Kasady say anything to you?”

“Say what?”

“…He’s still connected to several unsolved cases. We don’t even know where the bodies are.”

“Ah, I see.”

I put the pieces together on my own.

Cletus Kasady refuses to talk to the police, and he won’t meet with any other reporters.

For some reason, I’m the only one he’ll see.

Me—who’s got no connection to him.

Which is exactly why the cops are keeping an eye on me, hoping I might have squeezed something out of him.

“If this keeps up, he’ll get sent right back to Ravencroft. Even cops can’t get in there. We need something before that happens…”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not gonna be any help.”

“…If we can pursue additional charges, we could push for the death penalty. But if he uses info on those unsolved cases to cut a deal… he could be looking at life in prison instead.”

“You’ve got a point.”

“That man deserves to die. For the sake of the victims’ families.”

“…Wow. A cop saying someone should die?”

“Cops are human too, you know.”

Patrick nodded without a shred of guilt.

『He talks big, but he’s kinda fun.』

Venom’s voice echoed in my head.

I didn’t respond.

No one else could hear him.

If I answered out loud, people would think I was crazy.

“So Eddie… if you learn anything, tell me.”

“Sure. If I do learn something… not that I think that’ll ever happen.”

I waved to Patrick and got back on my bike.

Revving the engine, I pulled away from Rikers.

No way I’m coming back to a place like this.

In a glass-walled cell, a page turned.

The story moved forward.

I remembered.

The man I met today—Eddie Brock.

He’s not normal.

There’s something…

Something twisted. A savage energy lurking beneath the surface.

Just like me.

But his… his violence is something beyond mine. Stronger.

The first time I saw his photo—

Those eyes, that expression, everything about him…

My instincts were right.

I want to know more about him.

About his strength.

And the true nature of his violence.

My cheeks lifted on their own.

My mouth split into a crescent-shaped grin.