I Am In Marvel

In Midtown High School, a high school classroom with televisions, radios, and folding blackboards.

No matter how reluctant Peter was in his heart, Ned, who thought he had reached a consensus, became his tablemate as a friend.

Other students are still reporting, choosing seats.

Taking advantage of this time, Ned opened the topic to Peter, "Peter, which hero is your favorite in the Avengers?"

"Hero?" Peter answered without hesitation, "Iron Man."

"Oh!"

Ned was even more excited, spitting wildly, "I like Iron Man too! His steel suit is so handsome, of course, he is also very rich. But he is only the second one in my mind, and the favorite is sure enough. Still a symbol of peace, he is the veritable number one hero!"

This Peter did not refute.

Indeed, when discussing this topic, whether men, women or children in New York City, they will default to the symbol of peace. This is the consensus of everyone.

When it comes to a symbol of peace, no one compares him with other heroes.After all, the symbol of peace is the first superhero. He ended the long-standing World War II, founded the Avengers, and saved the world several times. No matter his fame or his achievements, he is not comparable to other heroes.

The existence of a symbol of peace is more like a kind of belief, and it has even gone beyond the framework of the hero itself.

The corner of Peter's mouth turned up quietly. If the fat man Ned in front of him knew that he had fought with the peace symbol (torture), I wonder if he would even drop his chin in surprise.

"Just sit here and wait for someone?"

The male student near the classroom podium quarreled, took the remote control from the podium, and turned on the TV next to the blackboard.

The newly opened channel was broadcasting news and current affairs, and the smoke-bearing fire footage immediately attracted the attention of all the students in the classroom.

"Last night at 6:50, there was a sudden fire accident in the Remy Five-Star Hotel in the central street of Queens. The fire was serious and basically covered the fifth floor. Fortunately, there were no casualties, thanks to a person wearing red and blue. Mysterious man in tight clothing..."

As the female reporter explained, she released a video.In the video, Spider-Man can be seen vaguely reverberating with spider silk, rescuing a victim from the fifth floor to the ground at the door.

Ned looked at the news in surprise and said, "Wow, is that a new hero? That guy seems to be able to fly?"

"No, he shouldn't be able to fly." Peter touched his nose, the feeling of watching himself on TV is really good.

Ned continued to comment: "His clothes are biased towards the design style of Iron Man. Wouldn't they be made by imitating the Iron Man suit?"

"This..." Peter didn't know what to say. After all, the spider suit was made by Tony. It can be said that Ned had touched the truth inadvertently.

"Since he is a new hero, he should always have a name? Let me think about it. How about calling him Fire Monkey? That's cool." Ned looked at Peter with interest, wanting to hear his opinion.

Peter corrected a little excitedly: "He is called Spiderman, not Fire Monkey!"

"Uh." Ned looked dumbfounded, apparently frightened, and the other classmates also cast doubtful eyes on Peter.

"Naive." A short-haired female student sitting in a corner reading quietly, glanced up at Peter.

"That, I also listened to others."

Peter spread out his hands in embarrassment and buried his head on his bag.

The news finally made a phased summary: "The cause of the fire has not yet been identified. The police have preliminarily ruled out an accidental fire. This incident is likely to be induced by humans. Please continue to pay attention to the New York News Channel for specific follow-up situations..."

"Human?"

Peter lifted his head, and recalled last night, the mysterious figure wearing a glass helmet and armor cloak, driving by in the red mist.

Who is that?

At this time, a restaurant in New York.

About 30 years old, but with a scumbag and a sense of vicissitudes, he can no longer be called a young uncle, wearing a waiter suit, squatting in a daze at the restaurant door in frustration.

His name is Scott Lang. He was in jail for stealing, only a few months after he came out.Although I barely found a job at the bottom, after the divorce, even the custody of a few-year-old daughter could hardly get back.

Scott now needs a sum of money, a large sum of money, and it is estimated that he will not earn it in half his life as a waiter.

Perhaps he knew Scott's current situation, and his "old friends" appeared in twos and threes, and offered him a cake-like advice to him in a difficult situation.

After Scott heard the suggestion from his old friend, he didn't think too much, and immediately refused: "Still still? Please, I have already washed my hands with the golden plate and cannot go to jail!"

"Shhh, man, be quiet."

One of the fat cheeks draped Scott's shoulders and said in a low voice: "We really need you this time. I can guarantee that this is your last order. As long as you put it on the money, Not only will you not worry about the rest of your life, but even your daughter can return to you."

Scott was silent and had to say that he was moved, and he could do anything for his daughter.

"Tell me, who is the target." Scott said solemnly.

"I know, you won't refuse."

The fat man made a fist in excitement and said simply: "The other party is a businessman and scientist who has properties in many places in New York. He has a villa that has been idle for a long time. According to my understanding, there is a super safe room. By the way, the name of the businessman. It's called Hank Pim..."

Late that night, a van with curtains was parked on the road in the villa area.

"I'm going."

Scott, wearing a night suit, put on his headset and mask, and got out of the back door of the van.The other accomplices who stayed in the car manipulated various instruments and equipment, shielded nearby surveillance and signals, and monitored every move in the nearby streets, with a level of professionalism no less than that of international thieves.

After Scott left the van, he approached the target villa. He came to the wall and swiftly and dexterously climbed into the yard. After opening the security window with a tool, the cat crawled into the villa.

"Along the hall, there is a staircase on the right hand side, go up to the second floor, and the goal is the third storage room in the top..."

Following the instructions of his companion from the headset, Scott turned on the flashlight and went to the storage room on the second floor. When he saw the fingerprint security door, the corner of his mouth couldn't help but smile.

This is too pediatric, so naturally it can't trouble him.

Paste the old fingerprints left by the handle with tape to reproduce the lines, and then pass the scanning checkpoints with the re-engraved fingerprints.

Five minutes later.

Scott didn't touch any alarms, and smoothly entered the storage room, and saw the thickened steel insurance door that was two meters long and one meter wide.

"No wonder you are looking for me, this is a troublesome guy." Scott exclaimed.

"What's the matter?" the companion asked suspiciously.

"It's Carbondale, made in 1910, using Titanic steel."

Scott smiled habitually, "Remember to hit an iceberg, it's very cold-resistant."

Scott is a former chief engineer and a top thief. He knows how to pry open the safe at a glance.

A small hole is drilled in the main structure of the safety door. After a large amount of water is injected, the freezing is accelerated by liquid nitrogen, and the inside and outside of the safety door quickly freeze into ice...

'Boom!'

After a while, the entire safety door blasted open, and the door fell to the floor with a bang.

Hearing the sound of breaking the door, the companion over the headset couldn't hide the excitement and exclaimed: "Look, what's inside!"

Scott was also extremely excited, and with a stride, he crossed the fallen steel door and entered the safe room.

But inside was empty, there was only a table on which was placed a set of dusty crimson motorcycle suits, plus a strange helmet.

"What is this stuff?"

Scott opened his mouth wide and was completely speechless.