85 Chapter 85: Captain America's Good Friend?

"I haven't heard of her,"

Matt pushed his sunglasses and said, "Maybe you should go to Japan. Their headquarters are there, and you might gain something."

Peter naturally didn't believe Matt's nonsense. "Although you're blind, your lying skills aren't very convincing."

Matt shifted positions, moving the phone to his other ear. "I'm not lying, it's just that people often misinterpret what I say. For example, I don't know Helen Nolan, but I know that might be her alias."

He coughed and tapped the glass on his left side. The sound of the glass echoed around, but it was soon muffled by the soundproof glass in front of him.

"My ears can pick up subtle sounds, no matter how insignificant. Like those two cops on your left, talking about a funeral they attended yesterday."

He glanced behind Peter, at the two cops further away. "They're talking about that damn funeral, talking about the bastard who got drugged, a real scumbag."

Peter was surprised and glanced back at the two cops. Even after his partial transformation, he could easily hear their whispers.

But Matt, separated by a layer of glass, could still hear?

Matt didn't notice Peter's expression. He reached out and touched the glass. "Glass doesn't completely block my senses."

Peter frowned. "You're getting off topic."

"Not really," Matt said. "I heard the cops talking about a big news in Brooklyn this morning. A Victorian building was destroyed, and I knew it had to be you and that woman. Controlling plants isn't something an ordinary person can do."

"What's her real name? And what's her purpose in New York?"

Facing Peter's questions, Matt shook his head. "I don't know. She's had many names, and I can't accurately describe them because her life is legendary and she's lived long enough."

"Legendary?" Peter wondered why Matt used that word to describe her.

"Yeah, maybe she fought in World War II, even with Captain America. At least she should be older than both of us. When you've witnessed enough legends, you become one, don't you?"

Listening to Matt's description of Helen, Peter's expression became serious.

Matt continued, "As for her abilities, I'm sure you've seen them. She can control minds, just being near her can influence you. Perhaps her hormones are too potent. My employer's products are based on her abilities, but the side effects are too severe."

Peter remained silent for a moment, then asked, "What's her position in the Hand?"

"I'm just a lawyer solving problems for others, and I'm blind. Do you take me for an all-knowing god?" Matt showed his hands and added, "And my hands are handcuffed."

Peter didn't buy it. "Maybe I'll go tell Kingpin again, let him know his most trusted henchman betrayed him, so you better answer my questions honestly."

"Okay, I give up. I only know she's high-ranking in the Hand, at least naturally."

Matt leaned forward and said, "Maybe it's because of what's inside her, that's the real 'beast.'"

With a flash of cold light in his sunglasses, Matt added, "That thing is always chasing evil."

"And you should be careful," Matt lowered his voice, "because demons like to parasitize other demons, and they attract each other."

Peter didn't respond. He stared at Matt and shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. After all, Murdoch, you're the asshole called the demon."

Getting enough information from Matt, Peter prepared to leave. But Matt didn't hang up the phone immediately. Instead, he reminded Peter, "One last reminder, they're undead. If I were you, I'd stay away from those things."

"Thanks for the advice," Peter said, slightly surprised. "For that, I won't mail the evidence of your crimes to the judges for now."

Matt: ...

At night, at the Parker residence.

After returning from Matt's, Peter went to the hospital.

The result was that there weren't many changes in the embryo inside him.

The only possible change was that the embryo's size had reduced slightly.

And he could feel a constant sense of fatigue in his body.

Combining Dr. Ryan's words, he speculated that it might be because the alien embryo released black substances, completing its reproduction and entering a weakened state.

Sitting at his desk, he rotated the glass bottle in his hand.

The spider in the glass bottle was cautiously guarding against the wasp on the other end.

The wasp could turn the spider into a zombie to serve it.

In Peter's sight, the wasp took advantage of the spider's distraction and jumped to the orb-weaver spider, stabbing it sharply.

Female wasps used their stingers to temporarily paralyze spiders.

Once paralyzed, the wasp would deposit an egg into the spider's abdomen.

When the spider recovered, it wouldn't be aware of the attached egg. Once the egg hatched, the developing larva would attach to the spider.

When the wasp larva was ready to transition to adulthood, it would produce chemicals that affected the spider's nervous system.

As a result, the zombie spider changed its web-building behavior.

The improved web was more durable and served as a secure platform for the larva to develop in its cocoon.

Putting down the bottle, Peter fell into contemplation.

Although it seemed that he and the alien embryo were in a symbiotic relationship now, and his abilities had become stronger, how could he be sure he wasn't the zombie spider?

He thought of the black viscous substance he had spit out.

He had searched for it that night but found nothing on the rooftop, as if it had disappeared into thin air.

If it was the alien embryo's reproduction, it wouldn't have disappeared so easily.

Perhaps Helen, who was at the scene, knew. But he quickly shook his head. Their positions were now enemies.

Withdrawing his thoughts from the complex mind, Peter looked out into the dark night.

There wasn't a single cloud in the night sky, and the humid air was filled with moisture.

With a slight movement of his mind, his black exoskeleton covered his body.

Jumping out of the window, he landed on the street.

The pitch-black, lightless night made him, with his semi-alien body, feel comfortable.

Perhaps it was the natural adaptation to darkness ingrained in his body that made him addicted to wandering alone in the city in the middle of the night.