Late night in Gotham City. The rain blended with the scent of industrial exhaust, like a bowl of thick soup laced with expired seasoning.
Chen Mo squatted on the precarious stone gargoyle head of a dripping eave, the racket coming from his stomach more hyperactive than the distant police sirens.
That was hunger banging its drums to cry out for justice.
He hadn't seen a proper carbohydrate for a full twenty-four hours.
As a member of the transmigrator army, Chen Mo felt he might be bringing shame to the collective.
When other people transmigrated, they either had a system by their side to dominate everything instantly, or they were discarded young masters of wealthy families returning to power like tigers returning to the wild.
He, on the other hand, was bound to a Spider-Man Cosplay System, which strictly demanded his words and deeds align with the image of Spider-Man.
With all the constraints required by the system, how was that any different from directly demanding he be a total Holy Mother?
Ding~ Your Holy Mother System has been bound~
Tsk.
Chen Mo looked down into the narrow, dark alley below, where a scrawny guy as thin as a monkey was brandishing a rusty folding knife at a shivering lady.
This was the thirty-fifth robbery he had encountered during his night patrol.
Chen Mo silently gave a thumbs-up to Gotham's public security in his heart.
The density of talent in this place truly lived up to the reputation of Gotham City, a land of outstanding people.
God bless Gotham, amen.
If it weren't for grinding those pitiful system rewards, Chen Mo would much rather go flip through the trash cans behind the Iceberg Lounge right now to see if he could pick up some leftovers the Penguin didn't want.
But he couldn't.
System judgment: Scavenging through trash cans falls under "indecent behavior," which would damage a superhero's image.
Sigh.
...He was joking here.
No one failed to catch that, right?
But Chen Mo's desire to find a job was real.
However, due to the dual hard buffs of being an illegal immigrant and a child laborer, the currently fifteen-year-old Failure Man... boy was having a bit of a hard time finding work.
Chen Mo sighed, moved his sore ankles, and suddenly leapt down from the stone beast.
Due to the dizziness caused by low blood sugar, his feet stumbled upon landing, almost making him kneel down straight in front of the robber to pay his deepest respects.
The thin monkey was startled by the dark shadow that suddenly dropped from the sky, his folding knife almost stabbing into his own thigh.
Chen Mo stabilized his posture. His face twisted beneath his mask, but a highly cheerful voice came out of his mouth.
"Hey, lost brother, brandishing a knife late at night isn't a good habit. It will cut your pure soul."
The thin monkey froze.
He looked at the slender teenager in front of him who was wearing red and blue pajamas, built like a beanpole, and sporting a hood and a mask.
"Where did this lunatic come from? Scram! Don't interrupt my fortune!"
The thin monkey cursed and swung the folding knife as he lunged forward.
Chen Mo sidestepped, grabbed the thin monkey's wrist, and pulled backward with the momentum.
"Violence doesn't solve problems, bro. What you hold in your hand isn't a knife, it's the shackles of sin."
While saying these kinds of lines that made him want to delete his account and restart life, Chen Mo skillfully toyed with the opponent using combat techniques.
He gave a push behind the thin monkey's back, watching him faceplant onto the ground.
The thin monkey climbed up, his eyes bloodshot.
"Shut the fuck up! I'm going to kill you!"
Chen Mo lightly hopped onto the wall, hanging there like a large gecko.
"What you need is love and redemption, not more bloodshed. In this gloomy city, shouldn't we give each other a hug?"
The thin monkey suffered a breakdown.
Seeking help.
What should you do when you run into someone who chants scriptures while fighting you on the streets?
Oh, right, and you can't beat him either.
"Are you sick?! If you're sick, go get a checkup at Arkham! Don't disgust me here!"
The thin monkey threw the knife away, covered his ears, and shouted.
Chen Mo jumped down from the wall, his movements as light as a falling leaf. He ignored the opponent's breakdown--honestly, breaking down just by meeting him, how did this guy grow up so big in Gotham? He turned his head to look at the woman shrinking into the corner of the wall.
"Ma'am, you're safe. Justice may be delayed, but it will never be absent."
The lady stared at him blankly, her hands clutching her purse tightly.
"Thank you... Um, should I call the police?"
Chen Mo thought about the response speed of the Gotham police, and then thought about that group of fat guys who only knew how to sit in police cars eating donuts.
"Considering the police station's phones might currently be handling another three hundred robberies, I think you can go home first, have a cup of hot cocoa, and have a good dream."
After saying that, he turned around and walked toward the thin monkey who was trying to sneak away.
Chen Mo firmly pressed down on the opponent's shoulder. The thin monkey trembled all over in fright, tears almost coming down.
"Hero! Big brother! I was wrong! I was really wrong! Send me to the police station, please, just don't talk to me anymore!"
Chen Mo suppressed the urge to shatter the opponent's nose bridge with a punch. His fist was trembling slightly, not because of anger, but because of hunger.
But the expression on his face, if it could be seen through the mask, must be full of sunny warmth.
He, Spider-Man, was just that full of positive energy.
Chen Mo gently helped the thin monkey up, even reaching out his hand to help pat the dust off the opponent's clothes.
"Don't be afraid, lost child. God forgives every soul that recognizes its mistakes and changes. Since you've realized your mistake, then go, seek the light that belongs to you."
The thin monkey was stunned. He simply couldn't believe his ears.
In Gotham, the consequence of a failed robbery was usually being beaten into a pig's head and thrown into a trash can, or being pinned to a wall by a Batarang.
This red-and-blue freak was actually letting him go?
"You... you're really letting me go?"
Chen Mo nodded, his tone firm and sacred.
"Go on. Use your hands to create value instead of plundering. Remember, every tomorrow is a new beginning."
Could you feel it? Light was radiating inside this alleyway! Radiating from him! He was practically Gotham's little sun!
Knocking him out on the spot was out; his control over his strength was a bit unstable, and a sixteen-ton palm strike could easily kill someone by accident.
Sticking him to the wall with spider silk... Sorry, this function hasn't been unlocked yet.
The thin monkey scrambled and ran toward the mouth of the alley, his speed so fast it looked like an entire convoy from the Gotham Police Department was chasing him from behind.
Chen Mo stood in place, watching the opponent disappear into the night, sighed again, and his stomach let out another long protest.
"God bless Gotham."
He muttered to the empty dark alley.
But I really don't have money to eat.
Molly, a woman who had just been transferred to Gotham due to work reasons, had trembling hands. From her worn-out wallet that was about to peel, she fumbled out a crumpled ten-dollar bill.
This bill had clearly been through a washing machine, its edges curled, with an unwashable oil stain right in the middle.
But in Chen Mo's eyes, this thing was radiating a holy light more dazzling than the lights of Gotham City Hall.
Molly extended her hand forward, her eyes showing a kind of pity called motherliness, which was extremely rare in Gotham.
"Child, take it. I know it's not much, but you... you look like you need to buy a new piece of clothing, or eat a full meal."
Chen Mo stared at that ten-dollar bill, his eyeballs practically glued to it.
Ten dollars.
Enough for him to buy two burgers, or a pile of energy bars that could last until tomorrow.
His hand had already reached out. His fingertips touched the banknote. The paper was rough, the edges frayed--it was real.
The system alarm in his brain exploded instantly.
[Warning: Acceptance of compensation is prohibited.]
[Spider-Man Cosplay System Prompt: Spider-Man does not take a single needle or thread from the masses.]
[If this property is collected, within the next twenty-four hours, the probability of you falling off a wall will increase to eighty-nine percent.]
Chen Mo's fingers froze.
He looked down at the money, looked up at Molly's sincere face, and looked down at the money again.
Then he withdrew his hand.
The movement was very slow, like he was doing something against human instinct, and in fact, it really was.
"No need, ma'am."
He said, his tone as casual as turning down a piece of extra chewing gum.
"I charge very high fees, ten dollars isn't enough. Next time."
Molly froze.
The corner of Chen Mo's mouth twitched under his mask.
In his mind, he ran through his own words just now.
Charge very high fees? Not enough? Next time? Are those words a human being would say? This sounds like complaining about too little money.
Sorry, too hungry, emotional intelligence has gone offline temporarily.
But the expression on his face, which could be discerned from the corners of his eyes even through the mask, remained bright and sunny.
"What I mean is, keep it for yourself. This city is cold enough, don't let your wallet freeze along with it."
Chen Mo added.
He added it quickly, but his tone stabilized.
Molly's eyes turned red.
She looked at the teenager in front of her who was wearing a uniform modified from cheap pajamas, with loose threads showing at the cuffs, her lips moving.
"You saved my life... I can't do nothing."
Chen Mo took a step back, putting both hands into his hoodie pockets, not to look cool, but because he was afraid his hands would uncontrollably reach out on their own.
"Your safe arrival home is the best compensation for me."
After saying that, he gave himself a score in his heart.
Seven points.
The lines were good, the tone was fine, it was just that the rumbling in his stomach almost drowned out the last sentence.
Molly was speechless.
She clutched the ten-dollar bill, looking at him.
Chen Mo felt that if he stayed any longer, his willpower would collapse. He turned toward the wall, hooked his fingers into the brick crevices, and climbed up two steps.
"Wait!"
Molly shouted from below.
"Please tell me, what is your name?"
Chen Mo paused. He turned his face sideways, the lights of the rainy night reflecting half the silhouette of a teenager above his mask.
"No need for thanks, ma'am."
With a slight exertion of force, his entire body flipped onto the second-floor window sill.
"I'm your friendly neighbor, Spider-Man!"
Having said that, his figure disappeared into the shadows of the building.
Standing in the alley, facing the empty wall, Molly murmured to herself as if chanting.
"Thank you, Spider-Man."