Chapter 16 Mrs. Weber's Terror

"Although I am surprised by your evaluation, I don't think I am a person who likes the god of death."

Peter shook his head, walked behind Mrs. Weber and pushed the wheelchair for her.

Taking a few deep breaths, Mrs. Weber forced herself to calm down.

"I know you saw it, Mr. Peter."

"What did I see?"

"You see yourself destroying the city you are in. No one can stop you. The endless black ocean has brought death to the whole world."

Peter slowly pushed Mrs. Weber's wheelchair forward and said calmly, "So what? That doesn't mean it will happen in the future."

“That’s part of the future.”

Peter lowered his eyes and glanced at Mrs. Webber. He was silent for a moment and said, "I'm not a villain in a comic book. Why should I destroy the world?"

"Besides."

Peter paused and said, "Humanity's cruelty will eventually lead to its own destruction. This should have nothing to do with me."

Although he doesn't think he is a good person and has no plans to become a great superhero in the future.

But he's not crazy enough to destroy the world.

There are many extraordinary powers in this universe.

Would he eliminate all superheroes, magicians and other extraordinary beings? Would he become the enemy of the world?
I'm afraid I don't have such power.

Perhaps the illusion I just saw was just Peter Parker from a parallel world?

Or is it simply a picture created in one's own sea of ​​consciousness?
He didn't care about it.

Mrs. Weber looked at Peter deeply and said, "Nothing remains unchanged. Our current thoughts will not be carried into the future. We may become another group of people in the future."

"I'll keep your advice in mind, Mrs. Webb."

Peter didn't want to talk about this topic anymore and said, "If this is the life guidance Mrs. Weber gave me, I should benefit from it."

Mrs. Weber shook her head. "It's more than that. I saw death around you. This is not just a metaphor. Your loved ones may be approached by the shadow of death."

"Relatives?"

Hearing this, Peter slowed down.

“Yes, the one who loves you or the one you love is approaching the shadow of death.”

Mrs. Weber said dimly, "If you could see it, maybe you could change your fate, but maybe nothing can be changed. The fate I know is always cruel."

Listening to the other party's prediction about death, Peter frowned.

Is that Uncle Ben?

But Uncle Ben will be sacrificed only after he becomes Spider-Man.

According to the information he knew in his previous life, Aunt Mei would continue to live with him in peace.

Besides Uncle Ben and Aunt May, who else?
"I have arrived."

Mrs. Weber's words interrupted his thoughts. Looking up, Peter found himself in front of Ward 965.

Christine was in the ward, running around anxiously. When she saw Peter pushing Mrs. Weber in, she immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

She was even more surprised when she saw that the person pushing the wheelchair was Peter.

Isn't this Dr. Ryan, the extremely mysterious patient?

"Ms. Weber, you shouldn't have been out there."

Turning her attention away from Peter, Christine straightened her face and spoke to her patient.

"I just want to go out and move around. The air here makes me feel a little stuffy."

Ms. Weber smiled and turned her eyes to Peter. "Thanks to this child, he sent me back. We talked a lot on the way and I got a lot of inspiration."

After hearing this, Christine walked up to Peter and thanked him. "Thank you, I'm Christine Palmer, Ms. Weber's attending physician. Thank you for sending her back."

"Peter Parker, you're welcome."

Peter held out his hand and shook hers briefly.

"Can we go outside and talk for a minute?"

Because of the relationship between Dr. Ryan and Strange, she became curious about Peter and suggested to Peter that they go out and talk.

Peter glanced at the beautiful female doctor, not knowing what she was thinking, and didn't take it seriously, just nodded slightly.

"can."

In the corridor, Christine thanked Peter again, "Ms. Weber has myasthenia gravis. She will need surgery soon, so we suggest that she stay in the ward to rest."

"Ah."

After Peter responded, he asked Christine, "What is Ms. Weber's occupation? A fortune teller?"

Christine explained to Peter: "Ms. Weber has retired. Maybe she had a similar career before. She seems to be very perceptive and can always feel our emotions better. I think Ms. Weber may have dabbled in psychologists or fortune tellers."

"Dr. Christine, Ms. Weber has a nosebleed!"

She wanted to say a few more words to Peter, but the nurse came out hurriedly and told her that Ms. Weber was not in good condition.

Christine gave Peter an apologetic look and walked quickly towards the ward.

Pushing open the door of the ward, she quickly examined Ms. Weber.

After confirming that there was nothing serious, she put down the stethoscope, exhaled, and couldn't help but look up to look outside the ward.

There was no sign of Peter outside.

Strangely enough, although Peter looked young, she did not regard him as a teenager.

Instead, I felt like I was communicating with a man of the same age, or even more mature than me.

Moreover, there was an aura emanating from the other person that made her feel a little strange.

It wasn't the sickly aura of a patient, but rather it had a frightening and strange aura.

Shaking her head, she pushed the strange feeling out of her mind and focused on her work.

the other side.

Gwen was enjoying her coffee alone in the coffee shop.

She said she was drinking coffee, but she didn't really understand.

Her favorite is milkshake.

The reason she went to the coffee shop was that a friend gave her a coupon for free coffee.

The reason she chose to come alone and not with friends was that she was very restless and wanted to be alone.

She had another nightmare last night.

She dreamed that the horrible face of the dead Josh appeared in front of her, with empty eyes in her ears, repeating one sentence: "Peter is the murderer!"

No matter how she explained, she couldn't get rid of that face.

"Well, I have to catch the real murderer quickly, otherwise Peter's situation will get worse and worse, and I will become more and more nervous."

After stirring the coffee for half a day, she put the spoon on the table dejectedly and let it gurgle.

But what should I do?
I am not a fan of detective novels. All I learned from my policeman father were some fighting skills to deal with petty thieves.

Just when she was in trouble, she suddenly saw a familiar figure coming out of the hospital opposite.

"Then that seems to be Peter?!"

Gwen blinked, a little unsure.

(End of this chapter)