Marvel Transmigration: I Possessed Iron Man

"Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the new champion… Spider-Man!"

"Spider-Man! Spider-Man! Spider-Man!"

The entire New York audience had become fans of Spider-Man.

Peter Parker raised his hands high, his eyes sparkling with uncontainable joy.

It was the first time in his life he had received such overwhelming recognition and admiration.

Not far from the arena, on a nearby street, Aetheris was driving his silver Audi R8. Sitting in the passenger seat was his new assistant, Nova.

At that moment, Nova was entirely focused on explaining an ancient Eastern poem to Aetheris.

"On a moonlit night by the Twenty-Four Bridges… where is the fair lady teaching the flute?"

Aetheris kept his hands steady on the wheel, doing his best to control himself. One moment of distraction while driving, and disaster could strike.

He had just received a message from Happy: Peter Parker was participating in an underground fight in Queens tonight, going up against Bone Saw.

Aetheris instantly realized — a classic scene from the Spider-Man movie was about to unfold.

With great power comes great responsibility.

In simple terms, the greater the power, the greater the responsibility.

And Peter Parker's poor old uncle was about to meet his tragic end tonight.

Aetheris didn't consider himself a good person, but when it came to a humble, kind-hearted man who had spent his life raising his brother's child with unwavering dedication, Aetheris didn't mind stepping in to save him. Besides, he might even earn the loyalty of a noble-hearted, highly capable Marvel superstar in the process.

He patted Nova's head, signaling that he had something more important to take care of.

Nova looked at Aetheris apologetically. Her mouth had gone numb, and she still hadn't completed her assigned task. As his personal assistant, she felt like she was failing miserably.

But Aetheris wasn't harsh.

"Nova, eat more bananas when you get home, and don't forget to take care of your teeth. After all, you're my favorite secretary."

Nova's cheeks flushed, and she snuggled into Aetheris's arms, seeking a kiss.

"Next time. Tonight's not exactly the moment for that," Aetheris replied. No matter how adventurous he might be, he had no desire to kiss Nova in her current state.

"Hmph, you jerk!" Nova pouted, pulling out a bottle of water and taking a few small sips.

"What are we even doing here tonight? This neighborhood is one of the poorest in New York. It's really unsafe," she complained, casting a look of disgust at the impoverished New Yorkers pointing and gawking at the Audi R8.

She wanted nothing to do with these people. Just the thought of interacting with them made her feel sick.

"Heh, you'll see soon enough. I'm here tonight to do a good deed."

Aetheris lit a cigarette and took a slow puff.

Why, you ask?

Because there's an old saying: A cigarette after a meal is better than being a living god.

Inside the arena, the fight organizer sat on a stool, counting stacks of cash. Tonight had brought an unexpected upset — Bone Saw had lost. Many New Yorkers had bet on him and ended up losing big.

The organizer, on the other hand, made a killing.

Shuffle, shuffle…

He pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill and slapped it onto the table.

Little Spidey stood nearby, eyes wide, watching the organizer count the money.

"Take the cash and get lost," the organizer growled without even glancing up, a Cuban cigar clenched between his teeth.

"Why is it only a hundred bucks?" Spider-Man frowned as he looked at the bill in his hand.

"The ad said there was a three-thousand-dollar prize!"

Peter Parker's frustration boiled over as he glared at the organizer.

"Read it again, you dumb little bug," the organizer sneered.

"It said three thousand dollars if you lasted three minutes. But you only lasted two. So no dice. That hundred bucks is a gift."

"I need the three thousand!" Peter insisted, staring him down.

The organizer stopped counting, slammed his fist onto the table piled with cash, and growled, "Not my problem. No money for you."

Peter Parker was getting his first bitter taste of how cruel the real world could be. His heart burned with frustration, but he had no choice but to bottle it up.

Fuming, he turned to leave — just as a blond man carrying a bag walked in.

Peter assumed the guy worked there and didn't bother giving him a second glance.

They're all scammers anyway.

"That damned boss… I hope you get hit by a car tonight. I hope you never find the seasoning packets in your instant noodles again. I hope you run out of toilet paper every time you use the bathroom. I hope every call you get is a scam!" Peter Parker, full of indignation, stomped over to the elevator and jabbed the call button repeatedly.

"Hurry up already! Are you trying to test my patience?" came a furious roar from the fight organizer's office.

Peter snapped his head around. Through the thick frosted glass, he saw a shadow suddenly raise something and slam it down hard.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed from the office.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened, but Peter no longer felt like going home. He wanted to see what had just happened.

Suddenly, the office door burst open. The blond man from before charged out, a cloth bag clutched in one arm, a silver handgun in his right hand, sprinting directly toward Peter.

"He's robbing me! Stop him!" the organizer shouted, clutching his bloodied forehead.

Peter clenched his jaw and calmly stepped aside, allowing the blond man to run past.

"He's a thief! Stop him!" the organizer yelled again, like he'd just lost a family member.

"Thanks!" the blond man shouted as he ran by.

A mustached security guard dashed over, but the elevator doors had already closed.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You just let a robber get away!"

Peter stood there, dumbfounded. Wait... now it's my fault for not being a hero?

I'm just an ordinary New Yorker. I see a man with a gun charging at me, and I'm supposed to risk my life to stop him?

Since when did New Yorkers have such high moral standards? Or am I just completely out of touch?

"Call the police!" the organizer shouted, running over and throwing Peter a resentful glare.

"You could've stopped him! He got away with my money!"

"That's not my problem," Peter shot back with a smirk, tossing the man's own words right back at him.

Meanwhile, just a block away from the venue, Aetheris was idly teasing his assistant. Nova had already been taken to cloud nine more times than she could count, and now she lay spent and boneless in the soft passenger seat cushion.

"Maybe I need to start working out more… why am I so sensitive lately?" she muttered weakly.

Despite the teasing, Aetheris never took his eyes off the pale yellow American muscle car up ahead.

Inside sat none other than Peter Parker's poor old uncle.

"Here we go."

Aetheris casually wiped his damp golden right hand on Nova's clothes.

"Stay in the car and don't move. I'll be back."

He jumped out and quickly began tailing Ben Parker.

Sure enough, after only a few steps, the blond man appeared again — cloth bag in his left hand, silver handgun in his right — running straight toward them.

The pedestrians in Queens scattered in terror, not a single person daring to intervene.

(End of Chapter)

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