Marvel's Shendu: Dominating the Multiverse

Chapter 177 Peter Parker's Compromise

Parker eventually replied to the message.

It wasn't a decision made after careful consideration. On the morning of the fourth day, he stared at the photo under his pillow for too long, then picked up his phone and typed three words under the message "Four days left".

"I agree."

After sending the message, he put his phone face down on the table, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and went to school as usual.

The reply arrived when his third class ended.

"Tonight. Warehouse district, Queens, abandoned harbor on East 17th Street. 11 p.m.

A coordinate system has been provided.

Parker stood in the hallway for a while, put his phone back in his pocket, went into the classroom, sat down, and turned to the corresponding page in his textbook. He listened to organic chemistry for a full forty minutes, without taking in a single word.

Aunt Mei made fried rice for dinner.

Parker ate the whole bowl and then asked for half a bowl more. Aunt May glanced at him, said nothing, and ladled out the rest of the pot for him as well.

"Eating so much?"

I'm hungry.

Aunt Mei put the pot back on the stove and wiped her hands with her apron. "How was school today?"

"That's normal." Parker took a couple of bites of rice. "The chemistry final exam is coming up, and the teacher said we'll have to do an extra experiment."

"What preparations should we make?"

"What's there to prepare? I can do it with my eyes closed."

Aunt May didn't reply and went to wash the dishes. Parker finished his meal, cleared the table for her, said he was going to do his homework, and went back to his room, closing the door behind him.

He sat at his desk, his notebook open, but he hadn't touched a single word.

He was considering the terms.

It wasn't that he didn't understand; the Holy Lord had been very blunt: he came, followed along, and Uncle Ben returned. That was the exchange. Parker hadn't been unaware of the consequences. Everything he'd read about morality before graduating high school told him it was wrong—a minor going to work for an unknown force in exchange for someone's life.

It was only after the Octavius ​​incident that he truly understood one thing: there are situations in this world that he cannot handle, problems that he cannot solve alone, and there are people who can do things that he cannot do.

Admitting this made him feel a little uneasy, but it was the truth.

At 10:40, he opened the window and went out.

The port on East 17th Street has been abandoned for about a decade.

Parker landed on a rusty iron rack and glanced down. Several large containers were piled in a corner, and an old barge was moored at the dock, its hatch locked. There were no lights, but the moon was bright enough to reflect light off the puddles on the ground.

He jumped down, his feet landing on the gravel without making a sound.

"On time".

The sound came from his left. Parker turned his head; the Holy Lord was standing in the shadow of a shipping container, not coming out, just standing there.

"I thought you would be late," the Lord said. "A seventeen-year-old usually hesitates three times."

"I hesitated four times," Parker said. "But the result was the same."

The Holy Lord stepped out and stopped two meters away from Parker. This was the second time Parker had seen him up close. He still looked the same as always, but for some reason, Parker felt that the air around him was different from other places.

"Have you thought it through?" the Holy Lord asked.

"I've made up my mind."

Tell me your conditions.

Parker hadn't expected him to ask that first. He thought the Holy Lord would state the terms directly.

"Uncle Ben, Ben Parker, he has to come back whole. Not a mutant, not a resurrection with a price, just him as he is, alive, healthy, himself. His memories have to be intact."

"Then what."

"Aunt May and the others, people who knew him, their memories need to be altered, so they believe Uncle Ben has always been there. Nobody knows he was ever dead." Parker paused. "Except for me."

The Lord did not answer immediately. He just looked at Parker.

Parker held on, his gaze fixed.

Why should I get rid of you?

"Because if I forget too," Parker said, "then it's as if this never happened, and I don't want that."

The Holy Lord remained silent for a few seconds.

"Okay," he said. "My conditions are: you work for me, I'll tell you where to go, and you won't do it unless I say 'I won't do it.' We'll set a two-year term for now. We'll renegotiate after two years."

"I won't hit innocent people for the next two years," Parker said.

"Is your definition of innocence or mine?"

"mine."

The Holy Lord looked at him for a while. "Alright. Keep this one. But sometimes your judgment may not be accurate, and then you must learn to listen."

That's an interesting statement. Parker didn't accept it immediately; he saved it for later.

"Deal," Parker said.

Shendu didn't say anything ceremonial, didn't announce the time, didn't count down, and the power of the Reality Stone simply emanated from the surroundings.

The air in the harbor was still for about three seconds.

Then Parker's phone vibrated.

He took it out and saw it was from Aunt Mei, with five words: "Uncle Ben is asleep."

Parker stared at the message for a long time.

Uncle Ben is asleep.

It wasn't "Uncle Ben is back," it was "Uncle Ben is asleep." Aunt Mei's tone was completely normal, just like a casual message, the kind of tone a family member would use to let each other know. It was perfectly natural, perfectly normal, as if nothing had ever happened in the past seven months.

Parker's hands were shaking.

He put his phone back in his pocket and looked up at the Holy Lord.

Is he home?

"He's asleep in your apartment," the Lord said. "He remembers what he ate tonight, what newspaper he bought this morning, and how he changed Aunt May's kitchen light three weeks ago. Everything is still there."

Parker closed his eyes, then opened them again.

"Thank you." It was harder for him to say those two words than he had expected.

The Holy Lord took the stone back and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute," Parker began, "when do I start—"

"From now on," the Holy Lord said, without turning around. "Go back first, I will contact you tomorrow."

"You haven't given me your number yet."

"You tried replying to my message yesterday, but the number was invalid." The Holy Lord paused, turned around, and said calmly, "I'll contact you."

Parker opened his mouth as if to say something, but then said nothing.

The Holy Lord walked into the shadows and disappeared.

Parker stood there for a while, the cold wind blowing from the sea and hitting his face. He looked up, but there were hardly any stars in the sky above Queens.

He didn't go back immediately.

He stood on the gravel of the harbor, going over what had just happened in his mind, making sure he hadn't stepped into any traps he wasn't aware of, confirming that he had met all the conditions, and confirming that Uncle Ben was at home, asleep, and everything was normal.

He launched a web, which swung out and flew towards Queens.

He didn't want to go in and disturb Uncle Ben's sleep. But he had to go back, to stay in that apartment, even if it was just sitting in the hallway.

He climbed onto the rooftop, tiptoed out the window, and slipped back into his room.

There was a light on in the hallway. Uncle Ben had a habit of turning on the night light before going to bed. Aunt May complained that it was a waste of electricity, but Uncle Ben said he was afraid Parker would bump into the door frame if he got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. The two of them had argued about this, and in the end, Uncle Ben won, so the night light has been left on ever since.

Parker stood in the hallway, watching the yellow light, without moving.

It's been seven months, and the nightlights have been off for seven months.

Aunt Mei lives alone and doesn't open her door.

It's lit up now.

Parker slowly returned to his room, closed the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn't turn on the light; he just sat there in the dark, listening to the occasional noises coming from the hallway. Uncle Ben was a light sleeper and would sometimes turn over, making the bed creak.

Parker pulled the Thanksgiving photo out from under his pillow, placed it on the bedside table, and turned it over so that the front was facing up.