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*****
Gwen—a sweet, adorable little girl, soft and delicate—was learning the fierce art of mixed martial arts.
When Mike first brought Gwen to the class, the coaches were stunned.
Upon learning it was Gwen's own choice, they could only shake their heads with a sigh. They figured she was just curious and would surely quit once she realized how tough combat training really was.
But as class after class went by, not only did Gwen stick with it, she also demonstrated remarkable talent. Soon, she became the favorite student among all the coaches.
By the time Mike arrived with Gwen today, the class had already started.
One of the coaches, a well-built man with a muscular physique, gave Gwen a disapproving look and muttered, "Don't be late next time."
Gwen nodded obediently, quickly changed into her gear, and began warming up.
"Are you Gwen's father?" the coach asked as he approached Mike, looking a bit uncertain.
Mike looked young—aside from some white strands at his temples and a bit of facial hair, he didn't seem much different from a young adult.
Mike nodded.
The coach smiled. "Gwen's got a lot of talent. Have you ever considered letting her pursue this professionally?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Mike replied, "No. Gwen's only learning this to stay fit."
The coach looked disappointed but still tried to persuade him. "She really does have great potential."
Mike nodded again. "I know. She picks up everything fast."
Seeing that Mike wasn't the least bit swayed, the coach gave up and shrugged. Then, turning to Gwen, who had just come over, he said, "This is your sparring partner for today."
He pointed to a boy about the same age as Gwen.
Gwen smiled politely at him, but the boy scoffed and said, "A girl? Don't come crying later. I hate girls the most."
Gwen puffed her cheeks and struck a fighting stance. "Come on, then!"
Watching this unfold, Mike tensed up. He hadn't even felt this nervous facing someone like Black Bolt.
But within seconds, his tension vanished, replaced by a grin.
Gwen was doing great—and that trash-talking kid's face was already dark with frustration.
Two minutes later, the boy had been knocked down multiple times, and finally, Gwen caught him in a rear naked chokehold.
The kid started crying.
Gwen tilted her chin proudly and released him. "Now tell me—who's the real crybaby?"
The boy looked at her and immediately burst into louder sobs.
Mike couldn't help but laugh out loud. When Gwen turned to look at him, he gave her a big thumbs-up.
Gwen scratched her head and grinned. Then, seeing the boy still crying, she extended a hand toward him. "Can you stop embarrassing yourself? You're a boy, you know."
The boy looked up at Gwen, wiped his tears, and muttered, "No one's ever hit me like that before."
"Well, I'm honored to be your first," Gwen said cheerfully, pulling him up. "Gwen Kent."
The boy, whose face had a few freckles and carried a slightly brooding expression, looked at her and shook her hand. "Harry Osborn."
"Harry, let's do our best together," Gwen said with a fist pump. "From now on, I've got your back!"
"Y-You've got my back?" Harry took a cautious step back, looking confused. "What does that mean? What are you going to cover me with?"
Gwen: "…"
She stared at Harry for a moment and said, "You're so dumb. It means I'll protect you from now on."
"Protect me?" Harry huffed indignantly. "I don't need protection from a girl. I—"
But the memory of just moments ago—crying after being beaten by Gwen—flashed through his mind, and his bravado faded.
Gwen giggled and said, "Come on, let's keep practicing."
"Okay!"
The coach, watching the scene unfold, nodded with approval. He turned to Mike and said, "Sir, are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"
Mike shook his head firmly.
The coach sighed in resignation.
But Mike's gaze lingered on the boy sparring with Gwen, his expression turning a little odd.
Harry Osborn?
Is it that Osborn?
Osborn Industries—one of the few companies on par with Stark Industries. Though Mike had no direct ties with them, the name was hard to ignore.
Watching Gwen and the boy train together, Mike stroked his chin thoughtfully.
Just let things run their course. It's not a big deal.
His eyes flickered as he glanced into the distance, then quickly looked away.
John was still at home.
Mike had decided—he'd wait until John made a move before stepping in himself.
For now, watching Gwen beat up that Osborn kid was far more satisfying.
Gwen had two days off each week. On Saturday mornings, she had combat training; in the afternoon, she had piano lessons. Sundays were completely free.
After her combat class, Mike took Gwen home. As they stepped out of the training center, they saw a luxurious car parked outside, picking up the little boy from earlier.
"So it is that Osborn," Mike muttered under his breath, then left with Gwen.
After a home-cooked lunch, Gwen took a half-hour nap. Mike then drove her to her piano tutoring session.
That afternoon, Mike continued keeping a close eye on John. As evening approached and he picked Gwen up again, John finally left his house.
While cooking dinner, Mike remained focused on his neighbor's every move.
John bought a gun and then went to a restaurant for a meal.
After that, he drove to the Hell's Kitchen area, where he sat in his car, motionless, quietly muttering to himself, psyching himself up, mentally preparing.
Taking advantage of the calm, Mike and Gwen finished dinner and began cleaning up the kitchen together.
Hours passed. It wasn't until nearly midnight, after Gwen had fallen asleep, that John finally stepped out of the car—his mind seemingly calm.
He walked slowly toward a two-story building not far away.
Seeing this, Mike raised an eyebrow.
Is it finally happening?
Then it was time for him to head out, too.
He conjured a protective barrier card and placed it on the house to keep it secure, then pulled out a teleportation card and vanished instantly.
The next second, Mike appeared directly above John.
At that moment, the "model citizen" had only gotten about ten meters away from his car.
Gazing down at him, Mike used an invisibility card and disappeared from sight.
John crept forward cautiously, keeping himself hidden. His eyes were sharp and resolute as he stared at the building ahead—a look belonging to a man who had prepared himself to risk everything.
Mike circled quietly and came to stand directly in front of John, studying that determined gaze before sighing softly.
He'd seen John's plan—the maps, the details. He knew John needed a substantial amount of money to ensure a stable life after fleeing the area.
Mike had already investigated that two-story building. It was a drug den.
John's target must be the drug dealers inside.
He was going to rob them.
"John… are you really going through with this?" Mike said calmly, his voice floating in the night.
Startled, John froze and looked up, just as Mike let the invisibility fade and revealed himself.
"M-Mike?!" John stammered in shock. His hand trembled around the gun, nearly pulling the trigger.
He stared at his neighbor, wide-eyed, and finally managed to blurt out, "You—I—what the hell is going on here?!"
(End of Chapter)