I'm working on Marvel's Spider-Man in American comics.

Chapter 12 The Coming Shock

Herman Schultz turned over on his worn mattress. This might be the last time he would sleep in this bed. Regardless of whether his plan succeeded or not, the outcome waiting for him would be neither good nor bad. Either he would die on the street or spend decades in prison.

But what does it matter? As long as the whole world, no, as long as the whole of New York remembers the name Hermann Schultz, it will be enough.

As the morning light streamed through the grimy windows, Herman had already bought a two-dollar hamburger from the burger shop downstairs. The burger was cheap, but the price was that it tasted rather mushy. The cheap patty and hard bread tasted like sawdust in his mouth. But he had no right to complain about the taste of the burger. The burgers here were specially prepared for the poor people of Harlem. The poor people of Harlem could not afford more expensive burgers.

The rusty iron gate of the abandoned construction site creaked in the wind as it was stealthily pushed open. Hermann lifted the rusted manhole cover and expertly burrowed into Manhattan's intricate sewer system. In the darkness, the squeaking of rats and the heavy thud of his footsteps intertwined into an eerie duet. He continued down the sewers, arriving once again at Otto's underground warehouse. The mingled smell of motor oil and mildew still lingered. The moment the door opened, three dark green electronic eyes lit up in the darkness. A mechanically synthesized electronic sound echoed eerily through the sewers.

"You arrived earlier than the agreed time."

"I don't have the patience to wait any longer. Has the stuff arrived yet?"

Hermann impatiently brushed the spiderweb off his sleeve, only to be met with a shrill, mechanical laugh. Two mechanical claws emerged from the shadows and hurled the bulging package onto the metal table, with a sharp, clanking sound from the parts.

"The boss is also interested in getting rid of that spider." Otto's electronic eyes flickered. "It was delivered last night, and there's not a single one missing."

Herman flipped through the expensive gold-titanium alloy parts and said nonchalantly, "All I wanted were controlled materials. They were delivered so quickly. Who is that 'big boss'?"

"Isn't this what you asked for? Why don't you believe it?"

"Just curious."

The mechanical claw that was about to retract paused in mid-air, then suddenly stabbed in front of Hermann, almost touching the tip of his nose.

"Want to know? Why not go to Hell's Kitchen and ask for yourself?"

Hermann understood, and a dry laugh rose in his throat.

"Wilson Fisk, haha, the famous Kingpin... No wonder, he must have ordered a large number of alien technology weapons from you, right?"

"I only care about business. I don't care what my customers do with my products."

"I heard he's been busy lately, and it's something to do with some...demon."

Hermann looked at Otto without saying a word and decided not to bother himself any more. After confirming that everything was in good condition, he picked up the package and prepared to leave. However, before leaving, Otto stopped him with an outstretched mechanical claw.

"Like I said, you can actually complete your design in my lab. I really admire young people like you who have talent."

"No, thanks anyway."

Hermann declined Otto's invitation: "My equipment is so advanced that the entire sewer can't handle it. Believe me, I've tried it."

"The Midtown Bank building? It's truly a masterpiece."

Otto's electronically driven laugh continued, "Well, then I'll be looking forward to the moment when you can show off your skills. I hope it won't be too long."

"You won't have to wait long."

Herman took the package and left. Logically, the New York police should have been hunting him, but he'd slept at home all night and hadn't heard anything. As he left, he noticed the police hadn't come chasing him. Either his underlings were keeping their mouths shut, or the police simply looked down on him as a "small fry."

If it's the latter, they are totally wrong.

Back in the long-abandoned, unfinished building, Hermann pulled out his welding torch and other equipment from his days as a mechanic and began to work. A dazzling blue light emanated from the torch. He transformed the gloves and elbow pads from hockey protective gear into weapon mounts, wires with different colored insulation snaking through the arm guards like veins. He soldered in several parts from an old scare launcher. Next to the pliers lay bunches of cut wire, the copper strands intertwined. He bit through the insulating tape and wound the wires together.

As the setting sun lengthened his shadow, Herman wiped the sweat from his face with the black cotton glove on his right hand and raised his left hand. He put on the new generation of terror transmitter. As the battery system he designed was connected, the indicator light flashed green.

He slowly clenched his fist, the indicator light turned from green to yellow, and in nervous anticipation, Herman threw a punch with his left hand.

The indicator light turns from yellow to red.

A piercing scream stirred up a thick cloud of dust, leaving a clean trail in the long-abandoned corridor. Simultaneously, a "bang" was heard, and Hermann was slammed directly into the wall by the powerful impact.

“Cough, cough, cough, heh…Hahahahaha! I did it! I did it!”

Now, all it needed was a matching suit of armor, and everything would be complete. This was exactly what Herman was going to do next. That whole bag of gold-titanium alloy, the same one Iron Man used for his armor shell, was his strength. Herman looked at his blueprints. The right-hand scare emitter and the entire suit would take about a week to complete. "Then I'll let you be arrogant for another week, Spider-Man."

At the same time, neither Herman nor Peter were paying attention, the Avengers' investigation into Spider-Man's identity was continuing. In the president's office of Osborn Industries, Iron Man Tony Stark held an unfriendly meeting with Norman Osborn, the president of Osborn Enterprises.

Norman Osborn is only a few years older than Tony Stark, but he looks much more mature and stable. His slicked-back brown hair and dark green suit form a sharp contrast with Stark, who is used to wearing a T-shirt under his suit jacket.

"Anthony, long time no see."

"It's been a long time, Osborne."

Tony Stark actually dislikes Norman Osborn. His meticulously combed back hair gleams in the sun like the scales of a cold-blooded animal. He is a bit like Obadiah from Stark Enterprises—a pure, Edison-like businessman.

"When I first heard your invitation to meet, I thought Stark Enterprises was planning to enter the biotechnology field. Thank God I don't have to compete with you."

"I've handed the company over to Pepper. Unless there's something absolutely necessary, I'm not really paying attention to it right now."

Tony casually changed the subject from business to business, and Norman Osborn didn't seem to want to discuss the topic in detail. Instead, he picked up the champagne glass and handed it to Tony: "So, when are you getting married?"

"what?"

"Getting married and officially starting a family. Having children of my own, those were the happiest years of my life..."

Norman said with emotion, then looked at Tony: "I am about the same age as you, Anthony. We are both in our forties, but you still don't have any children."

"I... Pepper and I haven't thought about getting married yet." Tony really didn't expect that he would be urged to get married even though he had no elders. "We've just started, and many things haven't been decided yet... Let's get back to what we want to talk about. Do you know Spider-Man?"

Norman Osborn had no idea that Tony's true purpose was related to Spider-Man, so he asked with a smile: "I've heard a little bit about it, what's the matter?"

"I was thinking... Hank discovered that the spider web structure he used was consistent with the experimental results of one of your former employees, Richard Parker. I came here to find out about him."

"I'm afraid I can't help you." Norman didn't intend to hide the truth: "But Richard has been away from me for five years, and his experimental results have been taken over by others. Even if you ask me about Spider-Man, I can only say that I don't know if it is Richard."

Was Richard Parker's death an internal secret of S.H.I.E.L.D., or was it something Ant-Man happened to remember? Therefore, Norman's behavior is also reasonable.

"So... your research hasn't yielded any results in the past few years?"

"No results at all. I only created some mutant spiders. Half a year ago, the Osborne Technology Expo accidentally caused the glass in that exhibition area to shatter, and the exhibits escaped. Now they are nowhere to be found..."

It was as if a window opened in a dark room. Both men were stunned, and then Norman Osborn smiled.

"If you're looking for Spider-Man, I really don't have any information here."

"I see."

Tony shook Norman's hand and walked away. As he left Norman Osborn's office, Jarvis's comment came from the micro-headset beside his ear: "Your behavior just now was not in line with social etiquette, sir."

"When did I ever obey that stuff?" Tony muttered as he walked.

"Jarvis, open the satellite imagery, find the day of the Osborne Tech Show, and upload everyone's data to the cloud."

"Green Goblin," Norman Osborn commanded, and then Osborn Industries' own artificial intelligence began to operate according to its master's command: "Enter the keyword, Richard Parker."

The searches on both sides were conducted almost simultaneously, and almost simultaneously, the same name was given.

[Keywords found: Richard Parker.]

[Search results obtained: Peter Benjamin Parker, search reason: immediate family relationship, father and son.]

Shock is a pun in English, and shocker is the code name for horror. Actually, if it is translated as shocking, the pun is more effective, but it is not as cool as horror.

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(End of this chapter)