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

"should be."

Peter walked out of the bus stop with an umbrella and reached out his hand to Gwen.

Gwen paused for a moment, then quickly walked over and took Peter's arm.

She hid under Peter's umbrella, and the two walked home together.

"So you're really not going to do anything about it, Peter?"

Gwen hesitated before asking Peter.

"This is not something I can handle."

Peter shook his head and said to Gwen, "I'm not a magician."

"I'm not a magician either, although I really admire those cool spells."

Gwen thought of Strange, "I can't believe that Dr. Stephen could be the one to destroy the world. He's such a gentle and confident man."

Gwen was somewhat skeptical that Dr. Strange would become the villain.

"Sometimes, we are all bound by heavy shackles."

Peter expressed his understanding.

"And in order to break free from these shackles, anyone could slide into the abyss."

Gwen nodded.

She put herself in Dr. Strange's shoes.

Would I do this if I lost Peter?

Could it be that in order to save Peter, he might do something similar to Dr. Strange, reversing time and changing the ending?

In the past, she felt she might not have been able to do such a thing.

But now she's having second thoughts.

Even if the world is destroyed, would you still risk everything to save your loved ones?

She looked up at Peter.

If it were Peter, he would do that for his own sake!

No, based on my understanding of Peter, he would definitely do that.

Then I had a reason to do that.

"What are you thinking, Gwen?"

Peter's words suddenly rang in her ears.

Gwen coughed, clearing her mind of the jumbled thoughts. "I was thinking, even though you say you don't care about the end of the world, if it really happened, you would definitely stand up for it. I know you, Peter."

“I don’t even understand myself, Gwen.”

Peter looked down at Gwen and said, "I'm not some superhero who's determined to save the world, Gwen."

"But heroes don't necessarily aim to save the world. You are a hero in my heart, Peter."

"is it?"

Peter never expected Gwen to say something like that.

"Thank you, Gwen, this is probably the highest compliment I've ever received."

After bringing Gwen home, Peter stayed in his room, staring at the ring on his hand that had been transformed from the Dark Book.

Although he said that the destruction of the world had nothing to do with him, his actions betrayed him, and he began to seriously consider how to retaliate.

It seems that the Dark Book is the only usable tool right now.

Although the consequences of this thing backfiring can be severe.

Thinking of the Dark Book, he also thought of its current vessel—Wanda. He wondered how she was doing.

Perhaps I should go and take a look at this container.

"The rent is due but I haven't paid it! This is terrible!"

If she didn't repay the money, this shabby little room, which Wanda called an apartment, might not even be hers anymore.

Those guys came to the door this morning, when the sun had just risen.

They pounded on her door and left a red IOU—unlike the pink one left last time, or the yellow one left the time before that—under the room where she now lived.

Evicted, homeless!

In her mind, she heard the voices of the nuns scolding her, an invisible scolding: You will never be a proper nun, not even as an infant, you never wanted to hold your bottle.

This is what the nuns on Mount Wandager love to talk about.

When you were a baby... you didn't even want to hold a bottle.

You speak too late, unlike your younger brother.

You don't learn how to use a potty until all the other girls have learned to use one.

You won't pray to the Lord every day like a good nun.

They never called her stupid, never used such harsh words.

However, insults are everywhere, and the hidden meanings behind words are like monsters lurking beneath the bed.

Furthermore, these people in Wanda Mountain often use the pretext of helping them with their physical examinations to actually study their bodies.

Wanda is not even ten years old yet, but her body is growing exceptionally fast.

If she walks outside now, she would definitely be mistaken for a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl.

This is also why she was able to rent this room after she escaped.

However, she is currently unemployed.

After being fired from Wendy's, she was fired from a fast-food restaurant—by a guy who looked Mexican, who accused her of embezzling money from him, which sounded like a bizarre way of saying she was stealing.

She knew nothing about this and had no idea why the other party accused her of embezzlement.

Okay, maybe that Mexican guy with the funny way of speaking got it wrong.

Marjorie, who was like a sheep—an old woman with a fluffy wig and wild thoughts—fired herself without any explanation.

What should we do now?

So annoying, so annoying, so annoying!

Calm Wanda!

You won't be kicked out until the weekend.

Everything is fine; you just need to find the root of the problem.

She opened a Walmart shopping bag, reached into the plastic bag, and took out a pair of pliers, a screwdriver, and a burnt-out light bulb made of frosted glass, covered in charcoal ash.

She got a little agitated last night, which caused the light bulb to explode for no apparent reason.

Glass shards pierced her palms, forcing her to use tweezers to remove each piece with her trembling hands.

The small fragments that were accidentally left in her palm were eventually squeezed out by the flesh next to them.

She has become quite professional now.

She carefully removed the bulb base with pliers, then used a screwdriver to poke out the rest of the bulb's inner casing—the central coil and all those tiny connecting parts.

Wanda reached into the bag again and grabbed a can of air purifier, a box of drink straws, and a roll of black electrical tape.

As she spoke, she casually "rescued" a small wooden box from under her sofa cushion.

This was once used to store the tarot cards given to her by a nun, but these things were actually worthless.

Because these tarot cards never reveal the future, she always had to use that little book to figure out how to arrange the cards.

She let out a breath and set the tarot cards aside.

She stretched out her hand and gazed at the unusual hand.

She was well aware of her uniqueness, as if she possessed extraordinary talent, capable of casting spells like a magician.

"You're different from everyone else, Wanda!"

These words rang in my mind like bells, making a continuous sound.

Every time she heard this voice in her mind, she was simultaneously calm and extremely excited.

She knew why those people were studying her, because she could sense that they hoped to get something from her...

Just as she was thinking about her superpowers, the phone in the room suddenly rang.

She should have checked who was calling before answering the phone, but Wanda answered it without thinking.

The moment she heard the angry voice coming from the other end, she felt it was all too late.

"Hey Anna, you should pay your rent!"

(Anna: Wanda's pseudonym)

"I will, but I need some time. I'll give you the money."

"Really? Lying is not a good thing, Anna."

"Yes, I swear, I will get a sum of money soon."

After Wanda hung up the phone, she immediately remembered a suspicious-looking guy she had contacted earlier.

The other party once told her that her figure and temperament were very suitable for a job he was in charge of.

If you need money, you can contact him.

Okay, although it's a bit far-fetched, we can give it a try now.

So she rummaged through the trash can, found a business card, and dialed the number.

"Hello, we've been in contact before. I want your job, but I need some money right now."

Wanda got straight to the point right away.

"I can give it to you when we meet."