Chapter Ten: The Birth of Spider-Man

Peter’s blood was not at all what Michael expected; it seemed unchanged, as if nothing had happened.

Could it be that Peter was Richard’s test subject from the very beginning? Perhaps the spider only activated abilities Peter already possessed, rather than causing a mutation?

No, that couldn’t be right.

When the mutated spider was invented, Peter was already five or six years old. Most likely, Richard had infused the spider with his own genes, or perhaps with Peter’s, which allowed the mutation to occur and made Peter into Spider-Man.

But Peter isn’t the only Spider-Man. In another world, Gwen became Spider-Woman, and there’s also that thick-lipped, dark-skinned boy who became Spider-Man.

Maybe Peter hadn’t been bitten yet, and Michael had drawn his blood too early.

Still, both the mutated spider and Peter’s blood held research value. They could serve as controls in future experiments.

...

“Ah—”

Gwen, hard at work, suddenly felt a sharp pain in her neck. Facing everyone’s curious stares, she managed an awkward explanation: “I think something bit me.”

She traced the spot and found a red and blue spider, its mission completed.

“Where did this come from?”

After checking some records, she discovered it was simply one of the company’s spiders bred for silk production, without any strong toxins. (The plot here aligns with The Amazing Spider-Man, though in the second film the spiders are venomous, and Harry needs their toxin to treat his inherited illness. Here, the spider is set to be harmless.)

It might have escaped somehow, but Gwen soon dismissed the incident.

When her shift ended, Gwen felt unusually exhausted—enough to alarm her. She called George, who came to pick her up.

On the drive, George chattered away, but Gwen’s fatigue only deepened. Her vision blurred, and finally, she blacked out.

George realized something was wrong and rushed her to the hospital.

After a series of tests, the doctor concluded: “She’s just overtired, as if she hasn’t rested properly in days.”

George blamed himself for not paying enough attention to Gwen, failing to notice how worn out his daughter had become.

After settling Gwen in her room, he went to talk with his wife.

At dusk, Gwen awoke, ravenous. She found her mother had left dinner for her in the kitchen, anticipating she might wake hungry.

With no time to reheat, Gwen devoured her meal, stuffing food into her mouth like a famished soul. Still unsatisfied, she raided the fridge for steaks, eating them all in one go, finally easing her hunger.

...

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Gwen glanced at her mother and replied, “I’m fine. Just really hungry.”

She didn’t know what was happening, but once her stomach was full, her clarity returned.

“Let’s go to the hospital and have you checked.”

“Alright.”

The sudden changes unsettled Gwen, filling her with fear.

But what happened next stunned her even more.

In the darkness, Gwen could see the flying gnats in the air, could hear the fluttering of their wings. She caught one with a quick squeeze, crushing it effortlessly.

The Stacy family returned to the hospital for another round of tests, more thorough than before, using every available machine.

Unexpectedly, Gwen’s body was found to be exceptionally healthy—her physical abilities far surpassed those of an athlete, with no trace of parasites.

George credited Gwen’s remarkable fitness to her own training. He knew she was influenced by him, possessed a strong sense of justice, and had secretly enrolled in several self-defense and martial arts classes, hoping to become a hero.

With Gwen’s health assured, George and his wife finally relaxed.

But Gwen herself was unconvinced. Only she knew how dramatic her transformation was.

She suspected everything stemmed from that spider.

Back home, hunger struck her again, and she consumed vast quantities of food.

This frightened her.

Yet tonight had already been exhausting; Gwen didn’t want to disturb her parents further, so she went to sleep alone.

In her dreams, a red and blue spider crawled slowly toward her, but Gwen couldn’t wake up, no matter how she tried.

Suddenly, she snapped awake from her nightmare, leaping straight onto the ceiling. As footsteps approached outside her door, Gwen finally broke free and tumbled down.

Just then, Helen pushed the door open, looking at her disheveled daughter. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just had a nightmare.”

“I called in for you—you don’t need to go to school or work today.”

Gwen suddenly remembered her transformation might be connected to Dr. Connors’s research. She needed to find him and ask some questions.

“No need. I’d rather go to work.”

“Gwen, you should rest more.”

“I’m fine, full of energy.”

With that, Gwen performed a backflip off the bed, grabbed clean clothes from the wardrobe, and changed quickly.

Helen was startled by her agility, leaving the room with a bewildered expression.

“George, did you teach Gwen anything? I mean, fighting, backflips, things like that?”

George looked at Helen, wondering if she’d realized Gwen was no longer just a meek girl.

As a good father, George replied, “Yes, I taught her a bit of self-defense... You know, just in case—we can’t always be there for her.”

“Oh.”

Helen reluctantly accepted her daughter’s newfound combat prowess.

But Gwen faced new challenges—her strength was so great she tore several garments.

By afternoon, she finally learned to control her power, but for now, she could only wear ordinary casual clothes to work.

Arriving at the company, she sought out Dr. Connors.

“Peter, why are you here too?”

Peter looked at Gwen and replied, “I’m part of the experiment now, Dr. Connors’s student.”

“Oh.”

Gwen accepted this, then turned to Dr. Connors.

“I have some questions for you, Doctor.”

“Didn’t your mother call in sick for you? If you’re unwell, you should rest.”

“Dr. Connors, if animal genes are combined with human genes, aside from gaining the animal’s abilities, are there any other effects?”

Dr. Connors pondered for a moment. “I don’t know. I’m glad you’re thinking about this, but we haven’t had any successful subjects, nor have we conducted human trials, so I can’t predict the outcomes.”

“The results we envision in the experiment are the optimal ones, but that doesn’t mean all results will point to that outcome. Our task is to complete the gene transplant and ensure the outcome matches our expectations.”

“This requires hundreds or thousands of animal experiments, so we can grasp the key points—discovering the path to success from patterns of failure. Sometimes, there are coincidences, such as a perfect success appearing early.”

Gwen couldn’t help but step back.

Judging from her current situation, she was the most coincidental of all—spider genes had fused perfectly with her, without any adverse reactions or spider organs emerging.

So she was afraid, afraid that if she revealed the truth, she’d become a test subject herself.