Chapter 24: The Memorial

Inside the car, the radio broadcasted the news.

"When the fire broke out at Midtown High, the school was hosting the regional football championship. It is reported to be a fire caused by a circuitry mishap, with other eyewitnesses mentioning a short circuit on the band stage."

Turning a corner, the old Toyota headed towards the church near Midtown High.

Ben, who was driving, sighed softly as he listened to the radio.

"What a tragedy. May the departed souls rest in peace."

Peter, sitting in the passenger seat, shook his head as he watched the passing scenery and said to Ben, "This isn't a natural disaster, Uncle."

Three days had passed since the tragic incident at the football game.

Unsurprisingly, the incident became a hot topic in the media, with almost all outlets defining it as a fire caused by a circuitry mishap.

The radio host continued to report, "Four fire trucks from Brooklyn were dispatched to Midtown High to extinguish the fire, but the school's fire hydrants were damaged, preventing the fire from being extinguished in time."

"So far, five bodies have been discovered, one of which is a teacher from Midtown High, and the other four are participants in the football game, reportedly members of the 'White Sharks' football team, all under the age of 18."

"In addition, two firefighters were hospitalized for smoke inhalation."

Listening to the radio host's report, Ben's brows furrowed tighter.

"I made a mistake. I shouldn't have let you go to the football game that night," Ben said, feeling some self-blame for allowing Peter to go to school that day.

"I wasn't injured, so you don't need to blame yourself, Uncle. Besides, some things are just unpredictable," Peter comforted Ben.

"Yes, some things are beyond our control."

Ben hit the brakes, waiting for the red light at the intersection.

"In life, we always encounter things, sometimes good, sometimes bad, and when bad things happen, we just have to endure, especially when you can't change them."

Peter nodded, asking Ben, "What if we can change it?"

"Then we do our best to change it."

Ben turned to Peter, saying, "I believe, Peter, my nephew, that when bad things happen, you will do your best."

Peter shook his head, replying to Ben, "No, I didn't, I could only manage so-so."

"I know you, Peter."

The traffic light turned green, Ben pressed the gas pedal, driving forward, and continued speaking to Peter, "You're not the kind of person who settles for so-so."

A few minutes later, the car arrived at its destination, parking in front of a church.

The "fire" incident at Midtown High's football game resulted in the deaths of many students and teachers.

The memorial service for the deceased was held in this Christian church.

Many people from Midtown High, including teachers, students, and parents, had already arrived.

People dressed in solemn black clothes, wearing white flowers on their chests, looked solemn and dignified.

The atmosphere was heavy with grief and sorrow.

Ben and Peter, both dressed in black clothes with ties, got out of the car.

Peter had originally had no intention of attending such a funeral, but at Ben's insistence, he eventually came with him.

"Hey, Peter."

Just as he was about to sit down in a random seat, he heard a voice from behind.

Peter turned around and saw a somewhat handsome face.

"Harry Osborne?"

Based on his previous memories, he quickly recognized the person in front of him.

Harry Osborne, the son of Norman Osborn, also a good friend of Peter Parker.

"It's been a few weeks, Peter. Aren't we familiar enough to that extent?" Harry, in a black suit and tie, walked over and patted Peter's shoulder.

"Even if you call me little Norman, it's more intimate than just using my name," Peter joked.

Recalling, he asked him, "I remember you went to some international event?"

"United Nations charity event, which can help you accumulate credits and expand your network for a better university. My father signed me up for it, of course, his goal isn't for me to go to a good university but to toughen me up."

Harry shrugged, nonchalantly saying, "My father is always like this, authoritative and always seems to have a plan, while I'm the one who always lacks direction."

Perhaps realizing it wasn't appropriate to talk about his father like that, he quickly changed the subject. "I heard Gwen's in the hospital?"

"Yeah."

"That's really bad news, along with everything that happened on the playground."

His expression became somewhat heavy as he said, "I didn't expect something like this to happen at school."

Peter nodded slightly to the naive and seemingly unloved teenager in front of him, preparing to sit on the chair nearby.

Harry seemed oblivious to the intentional distancing from his "friend" and moved closer, sitting next to him.

"Peter, was it really a fire that night? I heard it was a spider monster."

Before he could finish his sentence, he was glared at by the guests attending the funeral in front of him.

Realizing he had spoken too loudly, Harry quickly lowered his voice and continued, "Were you there that night? Was the spider monster real?"

Peter, listening to the priest's prayers on stage, looked straight ahead and said, "Maybe you should ask your father. Isn't he a big shot? He might know more than you do."

"He's not an all-knowing god. Why would he know these things?"

Seeing Peter's reluctance to talk, Harry stopped questioning.

"We fear death, we reject death, yet we will inevitably face death. We do not always exist, but our spirits do not die. Don Rhodes, Taylor Branton, Jim Nantz, Bill Chansler, these are our friends, all who died young, but they are remembered by us."

The priest on stage preached the eulogy.

"For us, they are not perfect, but they are close to perfection. They are the defenders of dignity and courage on the field. The 'Hand of Death' will not easily erase our memories of them."

Peter, sitting in the audience, listened to the preacher mention the "Hand of Death," his expression slightly puzzled.

Being called the "Hand of Death" by Mrs. Weber, and now hearing it at the funeral, was quite ironic.

Shaking his head, he automatically blocked out these uninformative eulogies.

Just as he was about to go out for some fresh air, his heart suddenly contracted.

His pupils dilated for a moment as he grabbed the armrest next to him.

...