Life’s twists and turns are truly fascinating.

Millie had thought this, Shelk had thought this, Penguin had thought this, and now Peter was thinking it too.

Peter Parker, an ordinary exchange student at Gotham Academy, held the vigilante title of “Spider-Man.” A New York native, he had once worked with the official hero group, the Avengers, but was now flying solo.

Upon arriving in Gotham, Peter quickly realized that there wasn’t much need for Spider-Man in a city ruled by the night-bound Bat. And if Peter were to put on his suit and try to save the city in broad daylight, he wouldn’t be seen as Gotham’s “friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” No, he’d likely be met with gunfire—this was Gotham, a city that didn’t take kindly to outsiders.

So, Peter did his best to keep a low profile, to be careful, cautious, and quiet during his semester-long exchange program. He really did try!

But the vigilante in him couldn’t ignore the troubles of those around him, so he inevitably got caught up in all sorts of strange situations, always just barely managing to keep his identity hidden.

During this time, Peter worked many odd jobs, determined to pay his way through life, though luck was rarely on his side—

One time, while working as a temp, he found himself sharing a car with disguised criminals. Another time, while painting a building, he discovered it was his own school. When he tried to stop a crime, he got lost in someone’s factory and was almost mistaken for a thief. At a school club event, he ran into an Arkham Asylum breakout and had no choice but to intervene. Scattered throughout his time in Gotham, Peter worked one odd job after another until he finally landed one that he really liked—

An internship at The Gotham Gazette!

Just after attending the cathedral banquet, Peter completed his first full week on the job.

Truth be told… Peter was a bit terrified of Miss Millie White from the cathedral. During their first meeting, she had almost socially ruined him while pulling him out of a crew full of criminals.

Though the embarrassment was only witnessed by Millie, Peter, and the criminals (and Millie had likely forgotten), Peter still did his best to avoid her. However, his friend from the club, Sheila Flannegan, was well-acquainted with Millie.

Sheila was one of the quieter students at school, often keeping to herself. Some students whispered that she was a witch because she always had a rat with her.

Peter had to admit, they weren’t wrong—Sheila did have a special rat, and she could communicate with it. This made many students uneasy around her.

Tim had once suggested they recruit Sheila to help fight evil, perhaps even make her a vigilante, like a member of Young Justice—the junior version of the Justice League. But that idea hadn’t materialized, as Sheila seemed to have other priorities.

Now, back to Peter.

He had started interning at Gotham’s largest newspaper, and, naturally, he was doing grunt work.

Fetching coffee, and printing documents—the internship was monotonous and uninspiring, and Peter wasn’t learning much. It frustrated him, as young people often dream of doing great things. But soon enough, a great opportunity arrived!

When the wings of the gargoyles began sweeping across Gotham’s cloud-filled skies, Peter finally got a chance to cover a story. While his colleagues chased after the airborne spectacle, Peter was assigned to interview regular citizens. Still, it was enough to get him excited.

The senior reporter leading him was dismissive, sending Peter off to get some hot cocoa, then settling into the comfort of a café, unwilling to venture outside.

“Even if you write something, it won’t make the front page,” the senior reporter said while sipping his coffee and watching funny videos online. “If you want to go, go ahead—it’s the same story we’ve covered a million times.”

So, Peter Parker, The Gotham Gazette’s intern, set out on his own.

He was determined to capture a major scoop!

He could’ve used his Spider-Man abilities to cheat—getting a close-up of the flying gargoyles or tracking down the mysterious magician—but Peter decided to play it straight, posing as an ordinary journalist, even though he didn’t have any credentials.

After a busy afternoon, Peter sat cross-legged on the rooftop of a building in Gotham’s East End, attempting to voice-record his findings.

“The first photo—this is Gotham’s new volunteer organization, an environmental group. Online, they’re called ‘The Silent Green Hoods.’ They’re apparently big Batman fans,” Peter furrowed his brow and scratched his head. “No, this story’s too outdated. ‘The Silent Green Hoods’ have been mentioned online before. Let’s see, the internet says—”

“They’re a group of tough old convicts…”

Peter paused, confused. “Wait, why are they convicts?”

“Someone caught sight of prison guards, so it’s confirmed these people were unloaded from a prison transport truck. The guards overseeing them were few in number, but the prisoners worked with great discipline. The online community speculates that these were elderly convicts, serving long sentences… finally filled with regret. So, before dying in prison, they’ve chosen to work hard and contribute something to the city.”

But these guys were in pretty good shape…

Peter continued reading, “They were all once enemies of Batman, each one a strong and powerful fighter. Even in their old age, their strength remains formidable. After finding redemption, they became fans of Batman, but out of shame for their criminal pasts, they wear identical hoods and fan-made Batman T-shirts. They never speak to anyone, just keep their heads down and work.”

This explanation seemed so reasonable! And, after all, there were prison guards watching them, so it must be legitimate labour, right?

For someone like Peter, a well-behaved kid, there was no way he could act like other journalists who might resort to tricks to pull off a hood just for a scoop. To be honest, as he read the online speculation, Peter found himself increasingly convinced, and he even began to feel sympathetic toward these people.

“The second picture—this is of the kids bringing balloons to exchange for candy,” he smiled, remembering the scene as he took the photo, though he also thought about something less pleasant. “Luckily, these are special balloons, hard to break. Some people tried to fake them, but no matter how hard they stomped on the real ones, the balloons wouldn’t pop. Meanwhile, the counterfeit balloons burst instantly with just one step.”

Naturally, those people had slinked away in embarrassment.

But this story didn’t have much of a hook, so Peter shook his head and moved on to the next image.

“The third picture—someone had their wallet stolen, but one of the flying gargoyles swooped down and snatched it back, returning it to the owner! And I caught it on camera! Maybe the newspaper will want this one—”

As Peter looked at the photo, his excited expression slowly turned more subdued. He stared at the terrifying stone figure, which was holding a balloon that felt completely out of place with its whimsical look. He moved his thumb to cover the colorful balloon in the frame.

Without the balloon, the photo lost all its whimsical charm. In fact, if cropped, it would look like a monster attacking a person.

Peter raised his head and gazed at the banner hanging from a blimp advertising the event. Having once worked as a temp painting walls for City Hall, he immediately recognized the type of paint used for the banner—it was the same as the one he’d used.

After a long moment of contemplation, Peter deleted the rare photo.

Then, the young man dusted off his pants, stretched, and stood up. As his eyes swept across the distant skyline, he suddenly paused, raising his camera on instinct—

That afternoon, in the East End, Wayne Memorial was officially being demolished.

Years ago, Gotham’s famous philanthropists, Thomas and Martha Wayne, were gunned down here, leaving behind their only son, Bruce Wayne.

Later, a memorial was erected across the street from the alley where they were murdered. Peter, being close friends with Tim, knew each other’s vigilante identities, so it wasn’t hard for Peter to deduce that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

Vigilantes had an unspoken rule of protecting each other’s secret identities.

Through the lens of his camera, Peter observed Bruce Wayne himself attending the demolition, accompanied by Gotham’s mayor, who was holding a young girl’s hand. Peter recognized her—Vivi White. He had seen her corpse once, and later witnessed her soaring through Gotham’s night sky as the vigilante, Nightwatch. It struck Peter as nothing short of miraculous.

Life and death seemed to coexist over her head, and aside from a handful of people, no one knew that Gotham’s Nightwatch had once been dead… once, or perhaps many times?

—Peter wasn’t sure.

The usually charming Bruce Wayne had an uncharacteristic lack of any smile on his face. The mayor appeared to say a few words to him, while Vivi, with a fully bloomed yellow rose pinned to her chest, stood between them, her expression vacant, lost in thought.

And then Peter saw many roses.

Through his camera lens, Peter caught Vivi turning her head, watching as two trucks pulled up nearby, both filled to the brim with red roses. She glanced at Bruce Wayne.

Whatever passed between them in that look was hard to interpret, but Bruce offered a faint smile and gently patted Vivi on the shoulder.

This brought Bruce Wayne closer to Anna Alek, Gotham’s mayor, and Vivi seemed to lean comfortably against the esteemed mayor, almost like a beloved younger sister or daughter. But based on their ages alone, it was clear they could never be mother and daughter!

At the driver’s signal, the people of the East End hesitantly approached and accepted the free red roses from the truck. As the crowd gathered, it resembled an ocean of roses, stretching toward the memorial.

The roses were laid down in a pathway, a sea of people surrounding Wayne and the mayor as they both stared at the Wayne Memorial, soon to be demolished. Whatever they were thinking remained a mystery.

At that moment, Peter’s camera captured Vivi walking against the flow of the crowd, heading toward a narrow alleyway.

…

The journey to Wayne Manor had gone smoothly, and Alfred’s snacks were delicious as always.

After finishing her training, Vivi, operating on two accounts, crossed paths with Bruce Wayne in the East End. She had fully committed the $200 million to the construction crews, instructing her secretary to hire professional teams from other cities while relying on Gotham’s abundance of regular laborers.

The various projects were progressing simultaneously, many of them nearing completion. Vivi’s main quest had jumped from 30% to 72% simply from issuing orders. She was getting closer to earning 500 diamonds. To boost her reputation, she attended the pre-demolition rally for the memorial, which was being broadcast live on television. She even threw in a truckload of roses for free.

After all, those roses had all been harvested by Bruce.

However, midway through the broadcast, Vivi left her mayoral alias behind and snuck away.

She had spotted some notorious criminals nearby—more than just one. There were both criminals and drug dealers!

In reality, not all of the criminals had been locked away in the “Silent Long Night,” only the more radical ones who were plotting major disturbances. By imprisoning that group, the remaining criminals posed less of a threat and could be handled by the gargoyles maintaining order in the city.

Throughout the East End, hidden in its corners, “evil-intent flowers” bloomed secretly. These flowers, with their watchful eyes, monitored the surroundings. If anything suspicious occurred, the gargoyles would swoop down from the sky and stop the wrongdoing!

As gargoyles circled overhead, Vivi shook her head, deciding to take matters into her own hands—she wanted to see for herself who still dared to cause trouble at a time like this!

Gripping the metal pipe hidden in her sleeve—since today she wasn’t dressed in her usual vigilante gear—she moved around the wall in front of her. Behind it was a sleek, black motorcycle, and a man wearing a red hood was knocking out several drug dealers with a few well-placed punches. When he noticed her, the man turned, giving her a cold, sharp glance.

Then, unexpectedly, his name marker turned green!?

But… nothing about him screamed “friendly.”

The other criminals, screaming in panic, ran toward Vivi. She pulled out her metal pipe but suddenly glanced down at her chest.

Wait a second—

…

Peter stared blankly at the photos in front of him.

From his perfect vantage point, he had managed to capture something no one else had seen.

It was a sequence of five shots—

Vivi stood face-to-face with the man in the red hood and brown vest. As others frantically rushed toward her, the yellow rose pinned to her chest suddenly expanded, growing larger than a person and swallowing the panicked men whole!

The rose completely obscured the next frame, and by the time Peter clicked to the following picture, both the man and his motorcycle had vanished. He had used the distraction to slip away.

The people engulfed by the flower had tried to resist.

…But the rose moved far too quickly!