For several days, Peter endured Stick's training. He was bruised, battered, and physically exhausted after dealing with his mentor's "teachings." Peter got the impression that Stick enjoyed tormenting his pupils, and made a point to bring it up with Professor Murdock the next time he saw him.

However, in spite of the harsh, albeit unorthodox training, Peter had to admit there was indeed a method to the madness. By the time Stick allowed him to remove the blindfold, he was able to react somewhat faster when the man attempted to whack him with his staff. Peter blocked it, and managed to duck and avoid the kunai that launched from the wall.

"Your spacial awareness is improving," the old man had said. "A few more days of this, and maybe you'll be on par with my kid sister. Starting tomorrow, the gloves come off. Get through it without being touched, and we'll talk sparring."

He's got a weird way of encouraging others, Peter thought to himself as he worked on the device in front of him. Unlike his classmates, Peter didn't go to right sleep after a day of training. He'd stay up a few hours later, working on making his web shooters functional. That night, the boy was leaning over a small desk, using his cellphone as a flashlight so he could see as he worked.

The web shooters were now fully reassembled after what felt like the 18th time taking them apart and making adjustments. The last bit of soldering was done and Peter had installed a tiny CO2 canister before inserting one of his cartridges of web fluid. Now was the moment of truth.

He tightened the repurposed watch bands around his wrists, with the trigger set in the center of his palms. Each was set to shoot webbing after two quick taps to the trigger, cutting it off as soon as the trigger was released. This bit of fine tuning came to Peter's mind when he attempted to pick up his textbook while wearing a web shooter. The resulting mess took an hour to get free of, although with with the benefit of learning that his webs dissolved after the same amount of time.

The boy stood up and took a few steps away from the wall. There was an intersection of cracks in the old drywall that he used as a target. Peter aimed his arms and activated the triggers, his middle two fingers tapping them. Instantly, two lines of web shot out and hit the cracks where they met.

"YES!!!" Peter exclaimed, leaping into the air and throwing a punch in triumph. His long awaited, frustrating, headache inducing project was finally completed. The boy only wished his dad could see him now.

"Go to sleep, kid," Stick called through the wall, hitting against it with his staff. Peter covered his mouth, he was louder than intended and by now it was very late. But now he could rest, progress had been made today. His training was going well, he was understanding his Quirk a bit better, and most importantly, Spider-Man had his webs.


The next morning, Peter got up and put on some workout clothes. He attached the web shooters to his wrists and then tied the blindfold around his head. Making use of his Spider Sense, the boy made his way to the kitchen area where he prepared tea for himself and Stick. As if on cue, the man himself walked in and took his mug.

"Something's different," he noted, sniffing the air. "You added honey and lemon." "Is that bad?" Peter asked. "Can't be worse than yesterday's," the old man quipped, he took a drink and smacked his lips. "I was wrong," he said, dumping the tea into the sink and making his own. "From now on, I'll make the tea. You focus on training. Speaking of, what the hell were you doing last night? I heard all kinds of noises."

"I was working on something, sort of a project that I finally figured out the kinks to," the boy held out his arms, displaying the web shooters. Stick ran his hands over the various parts; metal bracers, the watch straps, the triggers and the nozzles in front of the cartridges. "Jeez kid, what'd you dumpster dive for this stuff?" He asked.

"...Kinda," Peter admitted. "My dad came up with the initial idea years ago, and parts aren't easy to find. I used parts of an old laptop for the electronic components." "What's it do?" The old man inquired. "Helps me use my Quirk without hurting myself," Peter explained. "I'm not sure if Mr. Murdock told you this, but my body produces webs that come out of my wrists."

"Weird, but ok..." Stick followed so far. "The problem is when I try to use it, the web line rips open my skin and makes my wrists bleed," the boy went on. "I can collect it in liquid form in these little cartridges and it doesn't hurt, but I couldn't use them for anything. Until now..."

Peter clips in a cartridge and aims at the sōzu in the water fountain. Just before it's about to go down and tap the stone, he shoots a web, freezing it in place. Stick nodded, "Not bad. You took a problem and made an asset of it. Might be hope for you yet, kid."

The boy smiled at this, glad to have received some genuine praise for a change. "How long do those things last?" Asked Stick. Peter shrugged, "Haven't tested that yet. For now, my goal was to get them working." "Well if you're going to use gear," Stick went on. "It'll help to know its limits. Get in the dojo, kid. It's time for a field test."


Peter stood blindfolded at the end of the huge room, with Stick waiting at the other. He had a new cup of tea and sat on a cushion within a wooden platform. The boy took a deep breath and stepped forward. Everything was quiet for a moment, before the tingle alerted him to an incoming projectile. Dropping as low as he could, Peter narrowly avoided a kunai launching from the wall, imbedding into the one opposite.

"Are you trying to kill me!?" He yelled out, realizing what had happened. "Trial by fire, kid," replied the old man. "You wanna bitch about it, get over here and say it to my face." Peter knew Stick was saying that to throw him off his game, he'd done it successfully the day prior.

But now, the boy had something to make travel easier. Assuming the tensile strength of the webbing remained the same, Peter could use it to swing across the two story room. Thwipping a web to the ceiling, Peter yanked himself airborne, rushing through the air.

The tingle came back and he twisted his body around, making it a smaller target and avoiding two spears thrown by the blind master. Shooting another web, Peter swung closer to Stick's location as his Spider Sense went off. Two kunai launched from opposing walls towards the projected spot his momentum would bring him.

Releasing the web, Peter shot a new web out of each wrist, catching the throwing blades in mid air. Flipping himself forward, the webs pulled the kunai off their initial path as Peter hurled them towards Stick.

The old man quickly leapt up and spun his staff around, the kunai imbedding into it as Peter landed in front of him. "How's that?" The boy asked, thwipping a web at the tea mug and pulling it towards himself, taking a sip. "Tricky brat," Stick muttered, swinging his staff around to hit his pupil. Peter threw the mug high into the air and dodged the swing.

Shooting more webs, he trapped his mentor's feet to the ground and kicked the wooden staff up into the air. Stick threw a few punches and chops at the boy, but with a few more fast, well placed web lines, he was unable to move at all. Peter held out his hands, catching first the mug and then the staff as they fell back to the ground.

"Well, they work," said the old man, a bit sour over having been bested by a child. "You're telling me!" Replied Peter excitedly, "I was worried they might break or something would go wrong swinging for the first time. But they handled great! This opens so many possibilities for me now. Maybe I can fine tune these to make different kinds of webbing! Or have it shoot off in different directions! Or-"

Peter's enthusiastic rambling is cut off by his mentor. "Kid!" He said loudly. "Yessir?" Asked the boy. The old man gestured around himself, what little he could anyway, "Get me out of this shit."


A short while later, Peter had Stick free of the webs and they sat in front of each other at the end of the dojo. "Well, looks like I have nothing left to teach you," said Stick. "What do you mean?" Asked Peter, "The week isn't over yet." "I know that," Stick replied. "But I showed you all you need to know about honing your senses. Honestly, I haven't had a student pick this up so fast since I trained Matty back when he was about your age. I hate to admit it, but you're a quick study."

The boy's eyes widened slightly at the praise. "Just don't forget what you learned here, and always-" At that moment, Peter's Spider Sense went off towards his left side. Leaning to the right, the boy avoids another kunai launched from a wall mechanism. "'Always mind my surroundings'," Peter finished. Stick smirked, "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."

He stood up, "Come on, go get dressed." "Street clothes or my costume?" Asked the boy, taking off the blindfold. "Both, we're going out," replied Stick. "Um, ok," said Peter. He went back to his bedroom and took off his gym uniform. Putting on the skintight costume, the boy threw on some casual wear that covered everything up. His mask and gloves were kept in his pocket for the time being.

"So where are we going?" Peter asked as they left the old building. "I didn't think you actively patrolled." "I don't," replied the old man. "We're going grocery shopping." Peter almost fell over at that remark, "Come again?" "I'm not an active 'hero', kid," said Stick. "I don't just go out and patrol, I'm retired. Plus back in the day, I worked more in the shadows anyhow." "Oh..." The boy was somewhat crestfallen, he was looking forward to patrolling.

"Still, that doesn't mean if I come across trouble, I just ignore it," Stick added, making Peter turn to look at him. "I might be retired, but that shouldn't be the determining factor as to whether or not I take action. Yeah, someone might give me shit if I get caught. But if nobody else is gonna get the job done, then I sure as hell will. That's what I really hate about the spandex types."

Stick indicates towards the skyline as they walked, where one could barely make out a person flying overhead, "It's all about egos and filling quotas now. If you're gonna help someone, do it. Don't save a cat up a tree if you're expecting a pat on the back every time."

Peter looked at the old man, "Is that why you had me wear my costume under my clothes?" "Exactly," Stick replied. "In the old days, when the shit hits the fan, you had to be ready to go at a moment's notice. Added bonus of wearing a mask; nobody knows who you are. Not only does it protect you and your loved ones in the long run, but it keeps you humble."

"Is that why Mr. Murdock never went public with his identity?" The boy asked. "One of them," said Stick. "Matty used to practice law before becoming a teacher. You think he would've been able to work a single case if folks knew who he really was? He started out looking after the little guy, and he never forgot his roots."

Peter had a newfound respect for his homeroom teacher, and towards his new mentor. Then his thoughts drifted to his idol, "What about Iron Man?" "Stark? The guy's a lot of flash; talks a big game and loves the attention like the rest of 'em," Stick replied gruffly. "Still, at least he puts his money where his mouth is, and gets the job done."

The boy smiled, even among his harshest critics, there's a reason Iron Man was the Number One Hero. "Still, makes me wonder why he turned teacher?" Stick pondered, "You've probably seen him around school, he slowing down at all?" Peter struggled to think of a good answer, "He looks fine to me..."

The old man turned his head suspiciously at Peter, who looked determinedly ahead as of trying to will himself to not give any hints. What he didn't know, however, was that Stick's sense of hearing was on par with his former student Daredevil's. Stick could tell the boy was keeping something to himself about the hero, but decided not to press. He honestly didn't care.

As the duo waited for the bus, Peter looked over the map within the little vestibule. There were routes going all over the city, including one into East Harlem, where he knew Danny's internship was taking place. I wonder how he's doing, Peter thought. I'll try to message him later.


At that moment, Shang-Chi and Danny were patrolling the streets in costume, walking along a somewhat quiet neighborhood. "We'll patrol this area today," said Shang. "Sorry if it's a bit boring, criminal activity tends to die down when the weather gets a bit colder." "It's fine, better this way, in fact," Danny replied. "If we're not needed, then that means nobody is in danger."

"That's a good way of looking at things," the hero nodded. "I do need to speak with you about something, however." "Hmm?" The boy looked up questioningly as his mentor spoke. "You're looking for the Punisher, aren't you?"

Danny froze in place, "What? H-How'd you-" "I'm not unaware of your prowess as a martial artist," Shang continued. "I have nothing to teach you in that regard, and if you were serious about learning the ins and outs of street patrols, there are a dozen or so more experienced pros whom you could've joined with. But then, none of them are based near the last locations of his victims, are they?"

He eyed the boy with a serious expression, making him wither a little. "I..." For once, Danny was at a loss for words. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to have a competent intern at my side," the hero added. "But you shouldn't be pursuing personal grudges. We heroes may assist law enforcement, but we don't have the authority to arrest criminals, or carry out punishment."

Danny remained silent, so Shang continued to speak. "The only reason we're allowed to use our Quirks is because of the regulations in place for them. No matter how justifiable it may seem, a hero does not use their Quirk selfishly. If they did, it would be considered a serious crime..."

The boy looked downwards, as if considering the words. "The Punisher will be captured, whether it's by someone within my agency on the task force, or by another pro on the job," Shang concludes. "He'll face Justice, and he will answer for your father, as well as many others. But for now, you must have patience..."

Danny bowed slightly towards the hero. "Thank you, I appreciate you being up front with me," he said. "I must admit, my thoughts as of late have not the most noble." Shang-Chi nodded, "I'm glad we sorted this out. I like you Danny, and I want to bear witness to your progression as a hero. I just don't want to see you consumed by the idea of vengeance, then you'd become no better than the man you're hunting. Do you understand?"

Danny nodded in response, and Shang turned back and continued to walk on, the boy following him. Unseen by the hero, however, Danny clenched his fist tightly. No... He thought. What am I supposed to do?