Gwen's expression was a mask of inner turmoil right now.
The bastard before her had killed Jimmy, the very person she had wanted to put behind bars with her own hands. Yet he had saved her; in a sense, he was her savior.
Her mind was a tangled mess.
She was confused not only about how to treat the "Blackwatch" before her, but also by the puzzle of how Jimmy could still attack her after he was already dead.
"W-Why... why was he able to stand up even though he was dead?"
After a moment of silence, Gwen raised her head and asked Peter.
"Some kind of virus infected him, enough to make him move around like a ghoul."
Peter looked at Gwen, his expression unchanged as he spoke.
"You mean... you wanted to kill him because he was infected with the virus?"
Gwen pressed on.
She hoped to get a positive answer from him; it might make her feel a little better inside.
"Killing wasn't the goal, it was just a means to an end"—Gwen wanted to use such a reason to absolve him.
That way, she could tell herself that perhaps this guy in front of her wasn't a total scoundrel after all.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have saved her.
"No!"
Peter shook his head, shattering Gwen's hope.
"That was merely a non-essential condition."
With that, he turned and walked away.
Leaving Gwen stunned where she stood.
After a long while, Gwen let out a breath and dejectedly walked out of the alley.
After she left, hidden in the unseen shadows, a tentacle plunged into Jimmy's body, gradually absorbing it.
......
Half an hour later.
"Creeak!"
The door pushed open, and Gwen Stacy walked inside, shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Gwen, you told me you were going out to buy a burger, but you certainly don't look like someone who just had a full meal."
Sitting on the couch and looking at his smartphone, her father, George Stacy, spoke to Gwen without even raising his head.
George Stacy worked for the New York Police Department, a cop currently facing the looming headache of retirement.
"I don't know, maybe... maybe I can find something to eat in the fridge. I remember we had some quinoa or something else."
Gwen dropped heavily onto the couch, looking rather depressed as she said, "Anyway, I'm not in the mood to be picky right now."
Nearby, George's phone was playing a video, the wail of a speeding police cruiser echoing from the speakers.
Without looking, Gwen knew her father was watching videos of Spider-Woman again.
He was constantly plotting how to throw Spider-Woman—in other words, herself—into prison.
What kind of expression would her father make if he ever found out that Spider-Woman was his own daughter?
He would probably fly into a furious rage, or perhaps enact justice upon family, though it was hardly likely to be a picture of domestic harmony.
"Mm-hmm."
George kept his head down, staring at his phone; the Spider-Woman inside it seemed to command more of his attention than his own daughter.
"Dad?"
"What?"
George finally raised his head.
He quickly noticed the abnormality in his daughter's mood.
She looked completely distracted, and her spirits were unusually low down.
"At the police station... have you heard anything about a new kind of virus lately?"
Gwen still couldn't shake off what "Blackwatch" had said about the virus, and she hoped to get some clues from her father.
If a virus like that were to spread, it would likely spell absolute doom for the entire New York City.
"A virus?"
"Yeah, something like the kind that makes people go crazy, lose their minds, and turn into zombies or the walking dead."
George hadn't expected his daughter to ask such a question. After a moment of silence, he told her, "Maybe you could consult Robert Mattison; he should know a lot about that sort of thing."
Robert Mattison was a well-known American popular novelist who frequently wrote about apocalyptic themes involving zombies, vampires, and nightwalkers.
"New York City has been destroyed by zombies in his books countless times. If a virus like that really exists, he'd know more about it than I do."
George cracked a dark joke at his daughter's expense.
"Fine, my mistake for asking."
Gwen muttered as she stood up, ready to head to her room.
"Oh, right."
George called out to stop Gwen as she was about to leave, holding up his smartphone to show her the video on the screen.
"I saw it. You did a great job!"
Seeing the serious expression on her father's face, Gwen felt her heart skip a beat.
She thought her father had discovered her secret.
She raised her head, feeling nervous and uneasy as she looked at the video on her father's phone.
To her surprise, the video playing on the smartphone wasn't about Spider-Woman at all, but had been replaced by footage of a band performance.
It was a video of her performance with the Mary Janes band at school.
The concert had taken place yesterday, and she had thought her father hadn't attended.
She hadn't expected him to go in person and record it.
"I've watched it several times already. You didn't miss a single beat, Gwen."
A faint smile broke through George's stern face. "You must have practiced a lot in private."
"You did wonderfully. I'm so proud of you!"
Hearing her father's words of encouragement, Gwen's gloomy mood lifted considerably. She pulled her father into a tight, affectionate hug.
"Thanks, Dad!"
After dinner.
Once she was inside her room, Gwen sat down on the bed.
She pulled the Spider Mask out of her schoolbag and held it in her hand.
After staring at the Spider Mask for a moment, she shifted her gaze toward the drum kit in the corner of the room.
She let out a breath, gently laid the Spider Mask down, and switched on her desk lamp.
Suddenly, she felt utterly exhausted.
It wasn't merely the exhaustion of the conflict between the life she aspired to live and the life her father wanted for her.
More than that, she felt lost because of everything that had happened today.
For the first time, she felt the crushing weight of what she carried on her shoulders.
Jimmy's twisted, deformed face flashed through her mind over and over again.
The spraying blood, the pungent and nauseating stench of carnage, lingered in her nostrils, as if it would never fade away.
Originally, she had only wanted to have fun and use her abilities to help others whenever possible.
Yet now she suddenly realized that putting on this mask meant bearing certain burdens.
The expectations everyone held for her, that heavy sense of responsibility...
Could she really shoulder such a responsibility?
Six months ago, she was just an ordinary high school student.
Like any ordinary girl, she worried about grades and found joy in her hobbies.
Now, she had stood by and watched Jimmy die right before her eyes, completely powerless to stop it.
If she couldn't carry this kind of responsibility, then...
Could she still wear the mask?
"Click!"
The desk lamp clicked off.
Curled up on the bed with her knees drawn to her chest and her head lowered, Gwen let her blonde hair, moistened by the moonlight, fall over her face.
After a long moment, she raised her head and took out her phone from the schoolbag on the bed.
Her finger drifted aimlessly through her contacts list.
Mary Jane Watson, Betty Brant, Glory Grant, Harry Osborn—the names of her friends slid past one by one.
Finally, her finger stopped on the name "Peter Parker."
After a moment of hesitation, Gwen dialed Peter's number.
After a few rings, the call went through.
"Gwen?"
"Hey, it's me, Peter. Are you asleep? Let me check the time—whoa, it's eleven o'clock. Night owl hour. Sorry for waking you from your beauty sleep. I didn't mean to, I... I'm feeling kind of terrible right now, and the only friend I can vent to is you."
Gwen's tone was full of grievance.
Before Peter, she let down her guard and showed her vulnerable side.