bioinnovel Chapter 446 [3 Chapters Combined] The Threat of Spider-Man
Chapter 446 [3 Chapters Combined] The Threat of Spider-Man
"That's more like it." He glanced at Peter with a condescending look, as if to say, "You're teachable."
He then turned to the growing number of students who had gathered around him and delivered a concluding speech in a tone as if announcing an important matter.
"In short, listen up! Spider-Man didn't attack the Iron Giant immediately, which proves the Iron Giant is good! He was stolen and used by the villains! What we should do is support Spider-Man and find the real bad guys! Not speculate here and doubt Spider-Man's judgment! Understand?!"
"I heard you!"
His response was met with several drawn-out, laughing choruses in unison.
After Frank and Peter's antics, the cheerful atmosphere in the corridor almost solidified. Many people laughed and clutched their stomachs, taking a while to catch their breath before packing up and getting ready for school as the bell rang.
However, it is foreseeable that...
This impromptu "Spider-Man defense battle," and the series of discussions related to Spider-Man, will become a hot topic of conversation at Midtown High School in the near future.
In the "audience seats" not far away, Gwen had already lowered her hand from her mouth, but the tears of laughter in the corners of her eyes had not been completely wiped away.
She naturally placed her hand on Peter's shoulder and rested her head on it. Just a glance at Peter's helpless and aggrieved eyes brought back the laughter she had barely managed to suppress, causing her to bury her face in Peter's neck, her body trembling as she chuckled softly.
Felicia maintained her usual elegant demeanor, but her large, bright eyes now appeared unfocused and vacant, suggesting that, despite being in the know, she had probably relived every painful memory of her life in order to maintain her image.
Meanwhile, as the others gradually left, Riley finally regained control of his facial muscles, slowly turning his face back to its usual calm. Only when he instinctively looked at Peter did a lingering trace of a smile remain deep in his eyes.
Under Peter's gaze, Riley's lips curled up almost imperceptibly. He reached out and gently patted Peter's other shoulder before habitually taking Felicia's hand and walking into the classroom first.
Lately, Riley has been busy with his role as "Spider-Man," which has made him forget his original wish: to protect his family, help those around him in any way he can, and enjoy the warm daily life of an "ordinary person."
Fortunately, the scene in the corridor just now, full of youthful silliness yet incredibly sincere, was like a sweet breeze, temporarily dispelling the heavy clouds of gloom surrounding Amora, the Holy Lord, and the future crisis that had been hanging over Riley's heart.
Perhaps this world is not a good place, and no matter how hard Riley tries, he cannot erase all the injustices and misfortunes.
But, at least for this moment.
In the sunny corridor leading to the classroom.
The world appears simple and beautiful.
That's enough.
……
While Riley briefly put aside his "Spider-Man" identity and reintegrated into school life.
On the other side of New York City, a new storm is quietly brewing.
……
New York, Wall Street, Roxon Energy Tower rooftop conference room.
The heavy oak door shut out the noise from the outside world, but it couldn't contain the frustration and anger that permeated the interior.
The air purification system operates silently, yet it cannot dispel the lingering unease emanating from fine cigars and expensive colognes.
Roger Thornton, the "big brother" of the energy industry, sat in the main seat, tapping his knuckles on the gleaming ebony tabletop, producing a dull, resonant sound.
His face was as gloomy as the dark clouds gathering outside the window.
On the screen is a real-time monitoring dashboard for public opinion.
In this context, the red curve representing their carefully orchestrated negative sentiment is being mercilessly crushed and devoured by a wildly growing green wave—marked as "eyewitness testimonies" and "support for Stark Industries/Iron Monger."
"What we're facing is nothing more than a bunch of terrified fools who blindly believe lies, and an arrogant playboy who only knows how to solve problems by throwing money at them! But now, can any of you tell me... why, after investing seven figures in resources, employing three media outlets, and deploying at least five of the most professional teams, things haven't gone according to plan, but instead are heading in the worst possible direction?!"
Thornton's voice wasn't loud, but it made the temperature in the conference room drop dramatically.
Suddenly, the conference room fell into dead silence, with only the faint hissing sound of the air conditioner vents audible.
Several executives avoided eye contact, their Adam's apples bobbing.
The director in charge of this media offensive was sweating profusely, racking his brains for an excuse to shirk responsibility.
"Because we underestimated the impact of Spider-Man, old man."
Fortunately, after a moment of silence, a relatively calm but still weary voice broke the heavy silence.
Calvin, the CEO of Apex Energy, pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses.
The gaze behind the glasses remained sharp, but deep within it lay a trace of helplessness after things had spiraled out of control.
Instead of responding directly to Thornton's outburst, he manipulated the control panel in front of him, switching a corner of the main screen in the conference room to play a video that was going viral on various social media platforms.
The image shows a young woman wearing pajamas.
She sat in her living room, against a simple background, her face still pale from the shock, but her eyes were unusually clear and firm.
When she faced the camera, she did not cry or scream hysterically.
Instead, he calmly and clearly recounted what happened in Times Square that day.
A sudden explosion, a huge chunk of concrete hurtling towards her, and her desperate, closed eyes, powerless to await death.
Then, the massive steel figure appeared, cleanly and efficiently resolving the crisis.
"My men have already investigated and verified it."
Calvin's voice was steady, yet each word was clear, as if he were performing an autopsy.
"This person, named Emily Rutherford, was an ordinary white-collar worker. At the time of the incident, she had just left work and was passing by when the area was hit by a violent explosion and structural collapse. If it weren't for that metal object using weapons and equipment to deal with the falling debris, her chances of survival would have been extremely low. She is a typical person who has experienced severe trauma."
He paused the video.
Before the video paused, everyone heard Emily's last words.
"I don't understand conspiracies or tricks, nor do I care who's right or wrong... but I know that it's wrong to erase the fact that this machine saved people from dire straits, and to portray the hero who saved lives as a ruthless villain! Just like how the Daily Bugle ignored the truth and relentlessly smeared Spider-Man!"
"According to conventional behavioral models and post-traumatic stress disorder, when faced with a public opinion environment in which we have successfully portrayed that machine as an out-of-control killing machine, the most likely choice for such a person is to remain silent, escape, or even experience cognitive confusion, vaguely projecting the fear of that time onto this lump of iron."
Calvin continued, his tone tinged with a hint of self-deprecating helplessness.
"But, as you've all heard, because of that wall-climbing bug, these idiots are starting to become less easily fooled."
As he spoke, he switched the screen.
The screen began scrolling rapidly, with other testimonies springing up like mushrooms after rain since Emily's video was released.
Among them, the ones with the most clicks were those young people who were envious of Flavius's sudden rise to fame and chose to take the risk by live-streaming from the scene.
Their cameras unexpectedly captured footage of the Iron Monger intercepting stray bullets several times and using his own body to act as a solid shield for civilians who couldn't escape in time.
Although their initial intention was to seek novelty and excitement, and to fantasize about becoming a well-known internet celebrity like Flas, they still did so.
But regardless of the original intention...
These unedited live stream recordings became the most irrefutable evidence.
Even the official social media account of a NYPD precinct shared a citizen's thank-you message, subtly mentioning that "the rapid response of certain emergency plans was made possible by the great assistance of an unofficial force on the scene."
For these people, it was practically a public thank you to Tony Stark for his financial support!
"These people are either genuinely grateful for being saved, or they want to capitalize on this unexpected turn of events," Calvin said coldly. "But in any case, the 'evidence' they provided is authentic, diverse, and difficult to fabricate on a large scale."
"Thanks to these people, Stark Industries' public relations department doesn't even need to get involved in making up stories themselves."
"They only need to guide and aggregate these voices, and ensure that the channels of communication are open. As for Tony Stark himself..."
He brought up another window, which displayed a summary of Stark Industries' newly released quarterly report, as well as real-time data on the "Stark Industries Assistance Fund."
"He gave his supporters a reason to stand by him with a detailed and responsible compensation plan and the fastest possible repair work."
"Most importantly... gentlemen, I think you've already noticed that these people all mentioned the same name in the video."
Spider-Man.
"That's our variable. A variable that we thought would only be used to combat crime on the streets and had no threat or impact on a game like ours."
"His presence, and the 'little things' he did during this time—the people he saved, the disasters he prevented, and even his somewhat foolish yet steadfast attitude as a 'friendly neighbor'—have subtly changed some things."
Calvin's voice conveyed a complex emotion.
If he were just an ordinary person, he would certainly hope that there would be as many "Spider-Men" as possible in the world.
But for a capitalist through and through, Spider-Man's existence is undoubtedly a major headache for him.
"While it's far from reaching everyone, he has led a segment of ordinary people—or rather, the majority of New York City—to believe that those who step forward in times of crisis don't necessarily have to be perfect, invincible heroes; they can also be kind, ordinary people who deserve to be seen and appreciated."
"Especially that student from Midtown High School who risked his life to follow Spider-Man and started to change the public's perception of him."
"He set an example of 'even if you are weak, even if you are afraid, you can choose to do the right thing.'"
"In short, because of the influence of this wall-climbing bug, those fools scrambled to step forward and become the main subject of the narrative. Stark Industries, on the other hand, was merely the entity that 'listened to public opinion and acted responsibly,' successfully avoiding the vast majority of the firepower. This tactic is ten times more sophisticated than any fancy press release."
Calvin took a deep breath, his fingers tapping the keyboard again, bringing up another screen.
It's not a data chart, nor is it a video of citizens speaking out for the Iron Monger.
Instead, it was a scene where Spider-Man, whom they had only known as a "street hero" not long ago, suddenly took over law enforcement in New York City with a strong stance and led a large number of Shadow Legion to launch a heavy crackdown on the city's criminal gangs.
"Of course, these setbacks in public opinion are still issues within our scope of handling; they are extensions of business warfare and political games. They may cause temporary headaches and financial pain, but they are not enough to cripple us."
"We have lawyers, protest groups, and a deeply entrenched network of connections. We can maneuver, we can delay, and we can even make deals and bribes."
He paused to make sure everyone's attention was on what he was about to say.
"But, as you all saw... this 'variable,' this 'wall-climbing bug,' is completely unrestrained by the rules."
Look at these images!
"He was able to quietly take over law enforcement power throughout New York City without any public announcement!"
"He can disregard traffic regulations and air traffic control to reach any location via the optimal route."
"He could even get the NYPD's lackeys to tacitly approve and cooperate with his 'non-standard' operational plans simply because of his personal needs!"
His tone was filled with deep apprehension, and his gaze swept across the faces of everyone present, revealing the same solemnity and fear in each of them.
"What does this mean? It means that everything we know, rely on, and are good at operating within—the rules of the game, administrative procedures, jurisdiction, public relations strategies, and financial influence—was a joke to him from the very beginning!"
"He won't sit at the negotiating table and listen to our lawyers cite the law, he won't care about the policy favors we obtain through political donations, and he won't be afraid of the public pressure we create through the media. His 'rules' are a different set: the situation on the ground, immediate judgment, personal moral standards, and the freedom of action provided by those hands that can stick to the wall, far exceeding the scope permitted by law."
"What's even more deadly is..."
"Based on the fragmented intelligence I've gathered and cross-analyzed, this troublesome, unpredictable guy happens to have a very close relationship with that damned Tony Stark! Even yesterday in Times Square, this wall-climbing bug stopped pretending altogether; instead of directly attacking that iron giant, he stood by his side! Clearly, he's favoring Stark!"
This supplementary information was like adding cold water to a pot of oil that was about to boil, causing it to explode instantly.
A series of suppressed gasps filled the conference room, along with the screeching sound of chairs scraping against the floor.
"Think about it, gentlemen!" Calvin leaned forward slightly, his gaze sweeping over each face filled with astonishment and doubt. "Stark, who opposes us at every turn, using cheap new energy sources to frantically tear at our foundations, is certainly hateful... but at least he's still sitting at this table!"
"He's playing a game of technology, patents, markets, and propaganda—a 'game' we can understand, deal with, and even trade privately. And this Spider-Man…"
"He could break through the ceiling or swing in through the window at any moment and flip our card table over!"
"He doesn't care about stock prices, ignores legal proceedings, and judging from his style of action during his brief reign over New York City, he can even disregard public opinion when necessary! The 'rules' he believes in are nothing more than dictatorial tyranny!"
"In other words," Calvin concluded decisively, his voice echoing in the silent conference room, "any long-term strategy we have against Stark before we deal with this 'rule-breaker' who defies all conventional definitions and constraints is like building a castle on sand!"
"He could appear at any moment from an unexpected corner, thwarting all our plans in ways we couldn't anticipate!"
"As long as he's still hovering over New York, we're destined to lose this battle!"
These words struck like a heavy hammer at the hearts of everyone present, giants who were already accustomed to controlling public opinion and the will of the people.
A profound sense of despair and helplessness quickly enveloped the hearts of everyone present.
The heavy breathing, the unconscious tapping of fingers on the table, and even the sound of someone swallowing saliva were all amplified infinitely.
Only then did many people belatedly and chillingly realize...
The masked vigilante, whom they once regarded as a clown seeking attention, and even occasionally as a "pawn" to divert public attention, has in itself unknowingly and seriously eroded the "rules" barrier on which they depend for survival, threatening their transcendent social status and the space for manipulating interests.
The poisonous seeds of conspiracy theories began to sprout in the soil of fear.
"That Spider-Man, was he... was he really doing good deeds randomly?"
The representative of Aldridge Industries, known for its suspicious nature, spoke in a dry voice. He spoke the "truth" that most people had already suspected but were unwilling to face.
"Or was this all part of a... carefully orchestrated performance from the moment he first appeared in Queens?"
"Start with small things—rescuing kittens, stopping robberies, rushing into fires to save people—build a 'people-friendly' image, then gradually get involved in bigger events, appearing 'just in time' on camera each time…like this Iron Monger incident, wasn't he already in cahoots with Stark? One played the 'victim' while providing the source of chaos, while the other played the 'superhero,' further cultivating an unchallengeable public image in the eyes of the citizens?"
"Winning people's hearts..." another person murmured, their eyes gleaming, "It's certainly a cheap, but incredibly effective method..."
"When the entire city, especially the lower and middle classes, genuinely believes he is a 'selfless' 'superhero,' this accumulating prestige becomes an invisible and terrifying power! A moral tyranny that can override votes, public opinion, and even the law!"
"If we let him continue like this, it probably won't be long before he doesn't need to personally target any industry or even just any individual. He only needs to appear at the right time and place, in front of the public, and express a vague expression of 'concern,' and that will be enough to trigger a tsunami!"
This kind of conspiracy theory, based on self-judgment, made the atmosphere in the meeting room thick and sinister.
As the capitalist group that should be most blatantly criticized, they have always been adept at manipulating people's hearts, exploiting others, and reaping huge profits. Naturally, they tend to use the most utilitarian framework to deconstruct Spider-Man's behavior.
The more they analyzed it, the more they felt that hidden behind that airtight mask was probably an extremely shrewd and ambitious operator!
The initial rage was no longer visible on Roger Thornton's face.
Having traversed the business world for decades, burying countless rivals beneath rules and conspiracies, his face now resembled a severely weathered rock. Deep wrinkles were filled with a cold, iron-blue hue.
It wasn't just anger at the invasion of territory...
More than anything, it is a sense of bewilderment and panic stemming from instinct when facing an invincible enemy.
He was accustomed to the law of the jungle, familiar with the habits of each prey, and knew how to obtain the greatest benefit with the least cost.
He had hunted down both massive opponents and cunning rivals.
But now, this "monster" that has invaded the jungle has completely shattered the rules he relies on for survival.
It is not bound by the law of the jungle, does not care about territorial markings, and may not even be there to "hunt" at all.
Its motives are unfathomable, its actions unpredictable, and its weaknesses nowhere to be found.
One second you try to threaten it with power, the next second it might rush over and blow your head off.
When you try to constrain it with rules, or try to use morality and public opinion to kidnap and restrict its actions, it simply jumps out of the rules.
This sense of "loss of control" was more unsettling to Thornton, a man who had spent his life pursuing profit and power, than any financial loss.
His cloudy but still sharp eyes slowly swept across the conference room, taking in everyone's fear, suspicion, and helplessness.
He knew that panic wouldn't solve the problem.
They had to react before that damned Spiderhead officially announced his choice to help the Starks.
"...Enough." Thornton finally spoke again, his voice hoarse but carrying a forced, cold authority that silenced all the whispers.
"There's no point in continuing this discussion. All we need to know is that the wall-climbing bug is getting in our way and may be allied with the Starks. It's a 'menace' that needs to be eliminated first. That's enough."
He slowly stood up, placing his hands on the table. His body looked withered and thin, yet he exuded an invisible pressure.
"Gentlemen, if you want to maintain your current position, then starting today, continue to dig deep into every clue about the connection between Spider-Man and Stark, leaving no stone unturned. At the same time, use all our non-public channels... I need to know who is behind that mask and where they live."
"If we can find his weakness, what we perceive as a threat might just become an opportunity for us!"
"As for public opinion..." Thornton's eyes flashed with a ruthless glint, "Temporarily halt the direct attacks on Stark. But we can... subtly guide the conversation."
"Of course, don't be foolish enough to smear Spider-Man's rescue efforts; in the current media climate, that would only backfire. But we can start questioning the potential dangers and risks that 'unsupervised superpowers' might pose to ordinary citizens. We can discuss the potential damage that 'individual heroism' could do to a well-functioning social system... slowly turning people's admiration for Spider-Man into anxiety."
"At the same time, heavily fund and support several well-known critics, having them vigorously praise Spider-Man and portray him as an 'omnipotent god'! In this way, if that wall-climbing bug makes even the slightest mistake, even the smallest insignificant flaw, it will be enough to cause his image to collapse and suffer a backlash from public opinion!"
He issued his orders one by one, precise and ruthless, attempting to use the rules he was familiar with as weapons to besiege the ruleless entity.
Even though deep down, that sense of bewilderment still lingers.
Like a seasoned hunter trying to catch a gust of wind with a trap.
"Gentlemen," Thornton said, his voice chilling as he surveyed the room, "we may not yet know how to kill this monster, but we must learn... how to coexist with it, and find a way to put it in its chains. In this new game, survival is the first step to victory."
The meeting ended in a somber and resolute atmosphere.
When the giants leave, their steps are no longer as leisurely as before.
The skies over New York remained clear.
But when they look up, they always seem to sense a shadow that terrifies them, silently hanging between the skyscrapers, watching them and mocking their seemingly unbreakable set of rules that have been in operation for a century.