I'm not Spider-Man, even though I'm parasitized by an alien!

"I will not give up."

Peter reached out and grasped Gwen's cold hands. "Don't give up on her either, Gwen."

Gwen's expression faltered slightly as Peter held her hands.

Feeling the warmth Peter was giving her, she nodded.

"This is the isotope that Agent Jesse was injected with; it can temporarily help you regain your abilities."

Peter then handed the isotope that Agent Jesse had given him to Gwen.

Holding the isotope reagent, Gwen suddenly felt an urge to cry.

She hugged Peter and buried her head deeply in his chest.

The moonlight shone in from outside, casting a soft glow on the two of them.

The next day, early in the morning.

Gwen was sitting on the bed, making a phone call to her father.

She was wearing a beige nightgown, her freshly washed hair loose and smelling of shampoo.

Because she went to bed so late last night, Gwen forgot to return her father's call.

"I'm fine, Dad. Why didn't I answer your call last night?"

Gwen coughed and said, "The truth is, my phone fell into a crack in the road and was smashed to pieces, and then a car ran over it! Next came a tanker truck, and God help the guy who tried to turn around my poor phone, but he crashed into another car instead."

"The explosion was incredibly powerful; it overturned the car and buried my phone underneath. It's still buried somewhere somewhere!"

Peter, who was listening to Gwen's phone call from outside, smiled slightly.

Gwen's lie is just too ridiculous.

Gwen seemed to understand the principle of moderation, and after being ruthlessly exposed by George Stacy, she helplessly put down her phone and looked at him with innocent doe eyes.

"Hmm, it seems Dad doesn't believe what I'm saying."

Gwen put down her phone, jumped out of bed, and said, "This is the real reason for the decline of the digital age: no one can truly escape it."

Gwen seemed to be in a good mood today, saying, "Once you forget your phone, a lot of people will be thinking about it."

She felt much better after venting her emotions to Peter last night.

"What did Officer George say?"

Peter asked her.

He said I should make up a more plausible story.

Gwen shrugged and picked up the diary from the table.

"To be honest, I've been thinking I should write something, since so much has happened lately. Even if I'm not a superhero, I have to record it all."

"Um... Can I see the contents?"

Peter was very curious about what Gwen had written in her diary.

"of course can."

Gwen got out of bed wearing cute slippers, picked up a notebook from the desk, and handed it to him.

Peter looked at the contents of the notebook with curiosity.

-

Today's plan is to exercise; don't let it go to waste.

Running: Three miles.

Second run: five miles.

-

The contents of the notebook appear to be a schedule for today.

"Is this your schedule for today?"

Peter asked Gwen.

"Haha, yes, the truth is, I originally wanted to write down my recent adventures, many friends, Sarah, Silk, Jessica, and Spider-Man Noir, I wanted to record them, but I didn't write a single word. If... if I really can't turn back into Spider-Woman, maybe this will be my most unforgettable memory."

Gwen started by saying it with a smile, but she became more and more frustrated as she spoke.

She lowered her head. "I went to WH Smith Stationery Store and proudly bought a bunch of notebooks, stationery, and ink for eight dollars and 55 cents, trying to record my adventures in different worlds, but it seems I failed."

It seems Gwen has hit a creative block.

"I feel good."

Peter put down his notebook and said to Gwen, "The story has only just begun, so there's no need to rush, Gwen."

at the same time.

JFK International Airport.

A black sedan was parked on the side of the runway next to the tarmac.

Tony Stark, who has been out of the public eye for a while, was dressed casually in a black jacket and jeans.

Even though he didn't particularly like having bodyguards, after the incident where Danfoss sent people to attack him, he had no choice but to do so for his own safety.

"Mr. Stark, the crew is ready. We apologize for keeping you waiting."

The airport manager jogged over, his attitude warm and attentive.

A Bombardier Global Express XRS is parked on the runway. It is the world’s best long-range large business jet, known as the “city of luxurious sky villas”.

The cabin door opened, and Tony Stark, accompanied by two bodyguards, entered the cabin.

The cabin's main color scheme is beige and dark brown. It is spacious and does not feel cramped. There are luxurious leather seats, a wooden workbench, and dining tables arranged in a row.

In addition, LCD TVs, global telephones, internet access, and a wide variety of fine wines are all available.

Tony Stark sat down, patted the leather seat, and looked out the window.

Outside, a beautiful flight attendant was organizing luggage.

After a long 23-hour journey, Tony Stark and his crew arrived in Bamako, the capital of Mali, shrouded in night.

The waiting hall of Senu International Airport is as simple as a grain depot in a rural town in China, standing on a field.

Stepping out of the airport, I saw a light drizzle outside.

"What bad luck, we got caught in the rain right away."

Tony Stark complained, carrying his suitcase.

“It’s the rainy season now, sir. We’re lucky we didn’t encounter any sudden storms.”

His personal secretary said to him.

"It is indeed good luck in another sense."

Looking at the clock hanging in the lobby, it showed that it was 9 p.m. local time.

"Hasn't our pick-up person arrived yet?"

Tony Stark asked his secretary.

To be honest, he wouldn't come here if it weren't necessary.

He remembered the information he had seen about Mali before.

This is one of the world's poorest and most underdeveloped countries, with agriculture accounting for 80% of its GDP and virtually no industry. It was a French colony before 1895 and became a republic in 1960.

Like all poor and underdeveloped African countries, Mali descended into internal strife and conflict immediately after gaining independence. Three republics were established within thirty years.

The most recent coup occurred two months ago when a mutiny broke out among Malian soldiers. President Ibrahim and Prime Minister Cissé were detained in a military camp, and government forces and anti-government forces began negotiations. It is estimated that if the negotiations fail, it will lead to another situation of "rebuilding the empire".

In short, this is not a very safe place.

But he came anyway.

As for why we came here?

The reason, of course, is to profit from the war.

After the copper mine incident, he recuperated in the hospital.

After his injuries had almost healed, he came here.

While selling weapons, they also took the opportunity to relax.

Just as he was getting impatient, a black Toyota suddenly drove up to the lobby door.

A man in his thirties, of unremarkable appearance, whose only redeeming quality was his refined manners, stepped out of the car.

A woman in her twenties got out of the passenger seat. She was tall, without makeup, and had some freckles on her face. She was wearing tight jeans, which made her buttocks look full and perky.

The two, holding umbrellas, walked quickly toward the airport waiting hall.

Upon entering, they saw Tony Stark and his group.

The unremarkable-looking man paused for a moment, then quickly came up to greet him.

However, they were quickly stopped by the competent security guards.

"Sir, what can I do for you?"

“Uh,” the unremarkable-looking man quickly pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, “Excuse me, which of you is Mr. Tony Stark? We’re here to pick up Mr. Stark.”

"I am Tony Stark."

Tony told the two large white men to step back.

“We are the guides hired by Mr. Obadiah to be in charge of your activities in Mali.”

"Very good, successful rendezvous."

Tony Stark shrugged. "So, can we go now?"

We remained silent the entire way until we arrived at our destination, the Lisheng Blue Label International Hotel where we were staying.

night.

Tony Stark looked out the window from the hotel.