MARVEL -BLACK SPIDERMAN

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Peter was unaware that SHIELD had already taken notice of him, Gwen, and the existence of the alien.

At that moment, he was preparing a place for the "Queen" to live.

There was no way the "Queen" could stay at his current place. Although he considered putting it in the basement, he quickly dismissed this dangerous idea, fearing the severe consequences if Aunt May and Uncle Ben found out.

Using the money he had, Peter rented an abandoned villa in a nearby park to temporarily house the alien.

After high school, he planned to rent a house in the name of his college studies, so it wouldn't be so problematic.

Sitting in a nearby park, Peter fell into deep thought.

Just a moment ago, the "Queen" wanted to leave with him. It had taken him a long time to calm it down.

Peter could sense its thoughts. It seemed like it wanted to protect him, fulfilling the role of a guardian.

But what was this?

He became the queen, and the "Queen" became a worker bee to protect him?

Peter opened his phone and saw all the news notifications about Kraven the Hunter's murder. One article also mentioned Tony Stark. He had accepted a media interview and claimed he would be establishing a "supernatural creature research fund," intending to study ways of dealing with these creatures.

Despite being embroiled in a scandal with a beautiful reporter, Tony still had the energy to make these kinds of statements.

While browsing the news, Peter received a message from Helen.

"Is the Queen okay now?"

"You can come and see for yourself. We're not divorced, and you haven't been deprived of custody of the 'Queen.' So, I can't stop you from visiting," Peter replied.

Helen quickly sent another message: "Bad metaphor, but a good idea. Looks like I need to change my identity."

"What identity?"

"You'll know when the time comes."

"Okay, I'm looking forward to it."

Peter set his phone down and prepared to head back.

As soon as he stood up, a young boy appeared in front of him.

"Sir, can I borrow two dollars?"

The boy, around seven or eight years old, had long light brown hair and a cunning look that didn't match his age.

"Today is Wednesday," Peter noted, checking his phone. "It's 10 a.m., and you should be in school at your age. What are you doing here in the park? Skipping class?"

Peter, who had never skipped class himself, began to lecture the child.

"I'm not skipping class," the boy said confidently. "I'm studying. This is also a way to learn. I can't waste all my time in school."

Peter's interest was piqued by the boy's arrogant words.

"What grade are you in? Fifth or fourth?"

"That has nothing to do with age," the boy replied, hands in his pockets. "In school, many students leave with almost no knowledge after ten years of education. I think the science knowledge taught in school is too simple. Many students are still learning basic algebra after high school."

Peter, raising an eyebrow, asked, "So, are you still learning basic algebra?"

"Before I was in first grade, I used calculus to solve problems."

Peter looked at the boy, fighting the urge to slap him and ask, "Who did you learn from at such a young age?"

"So, what do you need the money for?" Peter decided to engage with the boy.

"To buy lottery tickets," the boy said seriously.

"What?" Peter asked in disbelief. "You want to borrow money to buy lottery tickets?"

With this American child, Peter slowly stretched out his hand, considering whether a slap might be the best choice.

"I'm not borrowing money. I'm seeking an investment. I'll give you half of the winnings."

The boy didn't notice Peter's impending gesture and tried to convince him to give him two dollars with this "get-rich-quick" scheme.

"How much money can you give me?" Peter asked skeptically.

"At least five hundred dollars, with a return of 250%. It's a sure bet."

The boy was determined to convince Peter to invest in his lottery plan.

"Really? Then why don't you buy it?"

"Because they won't sell lottery tickets to minors. Plus, there's risk involved."

Peter took two dollars from his pocket and asked, "What risk? The risk of losing all your money?"

"Of course not," the boy said confidently. "I've collected data from 45,000 winners and found a pattern. All the winners hit on November 23, November 29, and May 27 across different years. Today happens to be November 23."

Peter nodded. "Is that all?"

"There's more. If those three days each year fall on a Wednesday or Saturday, the winning numbers are limited by a specific formula."

The boy went on to explain, "I've calculated this formula. It will generate some numbers, limiting the winning numbers to a select few. The probability of winning the first prize goes from one in ten million to one in two hundred. So, if you buy 200 tickets, one will definitely win the first prize."

Peter, listening to the boy's wild story, found it too outrageous.

"What kind of lottery company has such absurd loopholes?" Peter asked.

"Why don't you buy 200 tickets to win the jackpot?"

The boy scratched his head. "I don't have that much money. Also, I suspect the lottery system has been tampered with. If I claim the jackpot and mess up their plans, they'll find me. I'll only attract attention if I win the big prize."

"I just want to buy a used separator."

He handed Peter a number and asked hopefully, "Can you buy a lottery ticket for me? The drawing is soon."

Seeing how confident the boy was, Peter decided to give it a try. If he lost his investment, at least he'd get to deal with the mischievous child again.

Ten minutes later, Peter stared at the lottery ticket in his hand, then glanced at the lottery results on his phone screen. He was silent.

He actually won!

And the prize was exactly what the boy had said – a thousand dollars.

Was the kid really a genius?

Instead of keeping the thousand dollars, Peter kept his promise and handed over five hundred to the excited boy. "What's your name?" Peter asked.

"Reed Richards," the boy replied.

Peter was taken aback when he heard the name.

Even if he wasn't deeply versed in the Marvel world, he knew this name.

Reed Richards. Mr. Fantastic from the Fantastic Four.

He was known as the smartest scientist in the Marvel universe and had a superpower that allowed him to stretch and reshape his body at will to suit different combat situations.

But Peter had a hard time connecting the child in front of him to the genius scientist known as the smartest man on Earth.

With Reed gleaming with happiness like it was his birthday, Peter asked, "Do you know Susan Storm (Invisible Woman)?"

Reed thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know."

"Do you know Doom?"

"No, should I?"

Reed tilted his head and looked at Peter. "Are they your friends?"

"No, they should be yours."

As Peter spoke, he pinched Reed's face, pulling it outward, causing Reed to grimace in pain.

The feeling was normal, not like the "Mr. Fantastic" from the comics who could stretch his body at will.

"I don't have friends named Susan or Doom. My best friend is Ben Grimm," Reed added unexpectedly.

Peter paused when he heard the name.

Ben Grimm – wasn't that the Thing from the Fantastic Four?

Was the "Mr. Fantastic" in this world just a child?

Reed, pinched by Peter, was getting angry.

"That was rude. Maybe you should explain your behavior to me," Reed said in a mature tone.

"Perhaps we can discuss future cooperation, Reed," Peter said, his smile growing a little mischievous.

At the same time...

Stark Tower.

"Tony, our stock price fell by over three percent yesterday," Obadiah said, entering Tony's office. He held a newspaper in his hand. "Didn't you say you wanted to acquire 24% of Lundin Mining's shares?"

"Lundin Mining might be surrounded by scandals, but this is a good opportunity for us to acquire shares," Obadiah continued.

Tony glanced at his phone. "By the way, I ordered a pie. Want to try it?"

"We were talking about stocks, Tony. When did you start loving pie?"

"Just last night," Tony said casually. "I discovered that banana pie tastes amazing and contains potassium, which can be used to treat mental illness with homeopathic medicine."

"Mental illness? What kind of mental illness do you have?"

"Heartbreak from a woman," Tony said seriously.

"I've told you, Tony, some women aren't that easy to shake off."

Obadiah knew about Tony's scandal with the reporter.

"Thanks for the advice, Obadiah," Tony said, picking up the newspaper and leaning back in his chair. "But you don't need to worry about the stock price drop. Everyone has already forgotten about us."

As he spoke, Tony placed the newspaper on the table. The headline read: "Kraven the Hunter Killed by Werewolves and Unknown Creatures!"

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