Shortly after Peter left the old house, the wail of police sirens echoed nearby. A squad car soon pulled up in front of the house.
A middle-aged man in uniform rushed out and ran anxiously toward the entrance. It was George Stacy, Gwen's father.
"Peter? Peter, are you there?" George called out, stepping inside as he quickly made his way upstairs.
He pushed open Peter's bedroom door, only to find everything neat and untouched—no signs of a struggle. He let out a sigh of relief, but a moment later, a puzzled look crossed his face.
"Where the hell did this kid go at this hour?" he muttered, pulling out his phone and dialing Peter's number.
Meanwhile, Peter had already returned to his private villa with 2B Miss, and was busy repairing her damaged systems in his lab.
Hearing his phone ring, Peter glanced at the screen. It was George.
He raised a finger to his lips, signaling 2B Miss to stay quiet, and answered. "Uncle George? What's the matter? Why are you calling so late?"
"Where are you? Why aren't you at home?" George asked, clearly concerned.
Peter instantly realized George must be standing in his house right now. He pulled up the surveillance feed—sure enough, George was visible on the monitor.
The fight earlier must've drawn police attention, and George, realizing the incident occurred at Peter's house, had rushed over out of concern.
Peter was touched by the gesture but knew he couldn't reveal the truth. Not about his new residence, and definitely not about 2B Miss. These were secrets he couldn't share—not even with Gwen.
Thinking quickly, he replied, "Uncle George, I've been worried that those gangsters might come back, so I've been staying at a friend's place this past week. Did something happen again at my place?"
George sighed. "Good thing you weren't there. Those guys did come back. They smashed your front door and made a mess of the kitchen, but otherwise, everything's fine. I'll have someone come fix it in the morning. Stay where you are for now, don't go back yet."
Peter pretended to be shocked. "What?! That's insane! And I was just thinking things had finally calmed down. Guess I'll have to stay put a little longer."
"Yeah, good call. Hey, which friend's place are you staying at? Harry's?" George asked.
Peter's face tightened. "Uncle George, Harry and I aren't exactly on good terms anymore. It's another friend—you wouldn't know them."
"A female friend?"
"What? Of course not. Where would I find a girl willing to let a guy crash at her place? Besides Gwen, I don't have any other female friends!"
"Really?"
"Absolutely."
George chuckled. "Now that's more like it. Gwen's been working overtime every day recently. You should step it up. I expect good news from you two soon, alright? Oh, and she orders an iced Americano every afternoon to stay awake. Maybe you could surprise her by showing up as a delivery guy. Romantic, don't you think?"
Peter laughed. "Are you seriously encouraging me to pursue your daughter behind her back?"
"How would she like it if she knew? That's why I'm telling you secretly."
"Wow, I've seen guys betray their bros, but this is the first time I've seen someone betray their own daughter."
"This isn't betrayal—it's giving you a shot, kid. Don't be ungrateful."
"Fine, fine," Peter said, smiling. "I'll drop by her company sometime. It's been a while since we've seen each other anyway."
"She's been swamped," George said with a sigh. "Sometimes doesn't even come home—sleeps at the office. Apparently, her company's got some big project under wraps."
Peter frowned. "Isn't she at the Osborn Group? That's a biotech company. What kind of project demands this level of overtime?"
"That's the strange part. I've asked, but Gwen keeps saying it's a trade secret. She won't tell me a thing. But forcing people to work overtime every day—these capitalists are heartless."
Peter nodded. "Got it. I'll visit Osborn Group tomorrow and check in on her. I'll let you know if I learn anything."
"Alright. Stay safe, kid." George ended the call, then looked at the three corpses on the ground in Peter's home. His expression darkened.
"Looks like I'm working overtime tonight, too."
Back at the villa, Peter stared at his phone thoughtfully. For some reason, he had a bad feeling. He immediately dialed Gwen.
After three rings, her tired but gentle voice answered. "Peter? Why are you calling so late? Is something wrong?"
Peter smiled, relieved. "Can't I just call our beautiful Miss Gwen for a casual chat? It's been a few days since we've had a meal together. When will I be lucky enough to dine with you again?"
Hearing her voice, Peter's unease disappeared, replaced by warmth.
Gwen chuckled. "Chatting's fine, but I'm super busy. As for dinner, that's impossible until the project wraps up."
She sounded apologetic but genuinely happy to hear from him.
Peter sighed. "What kind of crazy project is Osborn running that you're being worked to the bone?"
"I honestly don't know. I'm just a small cog, doing whatever's needed. And everything about the project is hush-hush—strictly confidential."
"Well, take care of yourself. Don't overdo it. Your health matters more than work."
"Don't worry. If I get tired, I just crash at the office."
"Alright then. I won't keep you…"
"Wait," Gwen suddenly interrupted as Peter was about to hang up.
"What is it?" he asked, confused.
"Thank you… for calling to check on me. I'm really happy. You… never used to call first."
Gwen stammered, her voice shy. Her face was probably flushed red on the other end.
Peter grinned. "Wow, touched by such a small gesture? Planning to repay me with your heart and soul?"
"You—! Ugh, forget it! I'm not talking to you anymore. Once I'm done with this project, I'll deal with you. You're dead meat!"
She hung up in a huff.
Peter chuckled at the busy tone. Teasing Gwen always lifted his spirits.
Just then, 2B Miss asked, "Creator, do you like that woman named Gwen? Is she your girlfriend?"
"Why do you ask?" Peter turned to her.
"Because I detected a significant increase in dopamine and serotonin levels in your brain. That suggests emotional pleasure. Based on my data, men often exhibit these signs when they like a woman."
Peter blinked. "You're not wrong. I do like her. But she's not my girlfriend—not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not strong enough to protect her. If she became my girlfriend now, it could put her in danger."
"Human emotions are illogical. I cannot comprehend them." 2B Miss tilted her head, confused. "I think my CPU is overheating…"
White smoke gently curled from the top of her head.
"Whoa, whoa! Stop thinking about it! You'll fry your circuits. Even humans can't figure out love."
He sighed. "It brings joy but also pain. It's romantic, but also practical. It makes you want to give the world to someone—sometimes at your own expense. Complicated stuff."
"2B Miss wants to collect all the best things in the world for Creator. Is that love?"
Peter stared at her, surprised. He hadn't expected this level of emotional development from her. It must be the effect of the learning and growth module in her AI.
Still, he wasn't too worried. Her internal code contained absolute, unbreakable obedience protocols—she could never harm him, even if she gained sentience.
What concerned him now… was something else.
If 2B Miss truly developed human emotions… and wanted to experience love with him…
Peter stole a glance at her. He had to admit, her design was stunning.
As he got lost in thought, 2B Miss smiled seductively and gently placed her hand over his heart.
"Creator, your heart rate has increased again. The 'have-a-go' protocol has been triggered. Do you wish to proceed?"
Peter choked. "What?! Stop that! I'm a decent guy. Don't say such… perverted things."
"Are you a 'decent guy' who likes to pitch a tent?" she asked innocently.
"I don't know what you're talking about! I have work to do!" Peter turned his face away, clearly flustered.
But before he could recover, 2B Miss slowly removed her black stockings and leather boots.
"Creator, I have a deeper wound here. Can you help me… plug it?" she asked, biting her lip.
Peter froze.
She no longer resembled a battle robot—more like a highly-skilled service droid. And he was very sure he didn't code this behavior.
How did she learn this?
The learning module? Online sources? Data leaks?
His thoughts swirled, but before he could figure anything out, 2B Miss lowered herself in front of him, red lips parting—
And then…
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
"ALERT! LOW BATTERY! ALERT! LOW BATTERY!"
Peter stared blankly.
A moment later, he looked around guiltily. Seeing no one, he scooped up 2B Miss and placed her on the wireless charging dock.
She now resembled a lifeless machine.
Peter exhaled in embarrassment. Was I really about to lose my first time… to my own robot?
He buried his face in his hands.
He was definitely… a bit of a pervert.
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