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JohnnyZ
JohnnyZ

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[Life is Good] Chapter 52 (Interlude) + Chapter 53

TN: Since the previous chapter technically marks the end of Book 1, here’s an Interlude.

In the original story, this chapter was used for an announcement and a link to the continuation, but since our circumstances are different, consider this a freebie.

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An endless white void stretched from horizon to horizon. If there were an observer—though none existed—they might wonder: how can there even be a horizon here?

But there were no observers.

Just two men and a corpse.

The dead guy had been thoroughly lasgunned, his body covered in an unreasonable number of burn marks. Standing next to him was an Imperial Guardsman, watching with calm indifference as a Krieg soldier approached.

When the Krieg trooper was about five meters away, he reached up and pulled off his gas mask, revealing a bald head marked with a three-headed hydra tattoo.

"Hey, Alpharius. What’s with the body?"

Strangely, as soon as he removed the mask, the man's entire demeanor shifted. He no longer looked like some caricature of a soldier—he straightened up, broad shoulders stretching, suddenly resembling a legendary warrior from ancient tales… if said warrior had lost a battle against male pattern baldness.

"Hey yourself, Omegon," the Guardsman replied, reaching up to grab his own face—then ripping it off. Beneath the Phantom of the Opera act was an identical twin to the Krieg soldier.

"This guy? One of the readers."

"You… wait. Why the hell did you shoot him, brother?"

"He suggested adding NTR into the second book and cucking our good boy Toby."

Alpharius' expression twitched into something between disgust and actual physical pain.

Silence. Omegon slowly turned his head from his brother to the corpse, then back again.

“…And you haven’t burned the body why?

"Was waiting for you." Alpharius shrugged, flicked a match, and casually tossed it onto the corpse. The body immediately burst into flames, clearly soaked in something extremely flammable. The two bald giants grinned as they watched the fire crackle. Nothing quite like watching a Slaaneshi heretic burn.

Well. Except watching more Slaaneshi heretics burn.

"Omegon, you do know the second book has already started, right?"

"Oh? Already? Let’s go?"

"Let’s go! Hydra Dominatus!" Alpharius pumped his fist.

"To infinity and beyond!" Omegon echoed enthusiastically.

A beat of silence.

Alpharius turned to stare at him.

"…Seriously?"

"What? Buzz Lightyear is awesome," Omegon muttered, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Toy Story, Omegon? Really?"

"No, but think about it—Buzz is clearly the prototype for an Astartes!"

"Omegon, he’s a toy. A literal toy."

"…Uh… Praise the Omnissiah?"

"Okay, you know what? Screw this. Just click the “next chapter”…"

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Chapter 53

The whole poetic, reflective mood? Yeah, that vanished the second Petra—either forgetting I was strapped to her or just wanting to show off—decided to pull a full-on acrobatic flip midair.

I could have asked, "Madam, to what do I owe this grand display meant to impress my humble self?" but, honestly, my brain was too busy screaming OH SHIT, FUCK!!! in a continuous loop.

Look, maybe this is cool for her, but at the moment, I’m a glorified backpack. And we, the noble species of the rucksack family, do not appreciate being spun around like that. Centrifugal force and all.

Spider seems to forget that I don’t have superhuman strength. Like, yeah, she’s a superhero, but I literally told her—multiple times—that I’m just a regular guy. Does she have goldfish memory, or is this selective hearing?

Unsurprisingly, my arms slipped, and suddenly, I was dangling like an actual sack of potatoes, flailing like an idiot. Thankfully, someone realized they messed up, because once I managed to grab onto her again and stop myself from flopping around like a loose kite, she stopped with the aerial circus act and started swinging in a straight line.

Nope. I need a glider. I want a glider. I don’t care if I have to cackle like a madman while flying on one—just give me a damn flying board. Being luggage sucks.

Hell, I think I finally understand baby monkeys who cling to their moms. Poor little guys. This is hell.

"Spider!" I shouted into her ear. "Don’t do that again!"

"Okay!" she yelled back. Then, much quieter—but still loud enough for me to catch it—she added, "Sorry."

I wanted to reassure her somehow, but yelling didn’t seem ideal, and my only real options were either rubbing her stomach or patting her boobs. So instead, I just squeezed her a little tighter to show I’d heard her. Hopefully, she got the message.

Still… question—how exactly were we planning to find criminals?

I mean, at this speed and altitude, we’re only going to notice something big, like a full-blown police chase with sirens blaring. I couldn’t make out a damn thing below us, and while I don’t know about my two Spider-ladies, I seriously doubt they could either.

Turns out, the question answered itself.

We reached Hell’s Kitchen and landed on one of the flatter rooftops. Petra detached herself first, then unbuckled me before stashing the harness in a dark corner.

"We’re doing a sweep of the Kitchen. If anything’s happening, it’ll be here—dangerous neighborhood," she explained.

"On foot?"

"No, Silk and I will be jumping across the rooftops, holding onto you. Nothing complicated, don’t worry."

I nodded reflexively, already lost in thought.

Gwendolyn. That’s it. That’s who she is.

The pieces clicked into place. Her costume wasn’t the one I remembered from those old cartoons. It was more like a black-and-white variant of Parker’s.

And I hadn’t considered her before because of the whole getting kidnapped by human traffickers incident. I mean, how does a girl with Spider-powers even get caught by thugs?

But then again… she’s not some experienced Spidey from the comics. She’s a schoolgirl.

And back then? She was tied up. Hands and feet bound. Same as the rest of the hostages. Maybe she just didn’t have time to break free.

And now that I was really listening—her voice.

I knew that voice.

It was the same one I’d heard coming from Silk.

Maybe they got their powers together? Like that storyline where Parker got bitten first, and then the same spider bit another girl afterward? I don’t remember who it was supposed to be, but… yeah.

Not that it matters.

So what if Gwen Stacy is Gwen Stacy? No point making a big deal out of it.

Meanwhile, the girls positioned themselves on either side of me, grabbed me by the waist, and I slung my arms over their shoulders.

Then, we jumped.

And, honestly? It was kind of fun.

They had a solid grip on me, my powers kept me from getting hurt, and—most importantly—I wasn’t a damn backpack anymore.

This was way better. Like sibling piggyback rides, but at high speed.

On the taller buildings, Spider and Silk shot out their webs in sync, swinging with practiced coordination. They’d clearly worked out this movement beforehand.

I appreciated that they’d put in the effort to include me.

And I was slightly embarrassed I hadn’t figured out a better method myself.

Eh. I had an excuse—my brain had been overloaded lately. And between training, planning, and keeping up with Penny and Kristi (who was now very enthusiastically involved in our little mischief, albeit taking things slow out of deference to Penny), I hadn’t exactly been focusing on tactical movement strategies.

Anyway, back on track.

We roamed around Hell’s Kitchen for a while, but… nothing.

The neighborhood was definitely rough—run-down buildings, poor lighting, sketchy graffiti, and trash piles in some corners.

But outright crime?

Not so much.

Sure, there were a few groups of shady-looking people hanging around, mostly women, drinking, smoking—probably something stronger than tobacco—but nothing that warranted intervention.

At one point, we heard some yelling and rushed over, only to find a bunch of guys very passionately arguing about soccer (my old soul crying out—football!). Lots of swearing, lots of laughing—but no broken bones.

"I thought Hell’s Kitchen was supposed to be full of crime at night," I mused, perched on a horizontal pipe on the rooftop where we’d stopped for a break.

"Eh, not always," Parker shrugged, sitting next to me. "It depends. But it’s not like there’s a mugging on every corner. A lot of people here know each other, or they’ve got protection from some local big shot. Now, outsiders? Yeah. A random girl walking around alone? She might end up going home without her underwear—if she’s got nice lingerie."

Gwen let out a quiet giggle.

She’d been oddly silent so far.

Shy? Or just unsure how to jump into the conversation?

"Hmm…" I hummed, pretending to ponder. "So, does that mean we should hold off on helping people? You know, wait a little… if the girl’s cute?"

Petra let out an irritated tsk, while Gwen giggled again.

"Salamander! You think everything’s a joke, don’t you? Be serious!"

"Oh, please! Who’s the Friendly Neighborhood Spider who cracks jokes while beating up bad guys? Come on, Spider, don’t turn into Mama Koala. It really doesn’t suit you."

"She’s just nervous," Silk suddenly chimed in, defending Parker. "It’s my first night out, and it’s her first time patrolling with you. She feels responsible. It’s stressing her out a little."

“I’m not… Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous, yeah.” Spider sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you guys. When I patrol alone, I don’t feel this kind of fear.”

“Well, at least you’re honest. Don’t stress, Spidey.” I threw an arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her closer. “We’ll be fine. I’m sturdy, and you and Silk have precognition, strength, agility, and speed. No way some low-level thugs can actually mess with us. Just relax and enjoy handing out some light-to-moderate ass-kicking.”

“You say that like I enjoy it.” Parker muttered under her breath.

“It was supposed to be a joke, so you’d turn down the overprotective hen act. There are three of us, all with powers—what could possibly happen that would make us break a sweat?”

SCREAM!

A bloodcurdling, panicked, female scream cut through the night.

Mmm… Okay, that one wasn’t on me.

We booked it toward the sound, only to find… nothing.

An empty alley. Darkness. Silence.

The buildings flanking it were in pretty bad shape, abandoned crates were scattered around, some already broken. A brick wall, a couple meters high, blocked the far end of the alley.

“This feels very suspicious, girls.” I muttered, lighting up my palm to brighten the place.

A quick search turned up a torn-up backpack. A group vote later, we decided to check inside and found… drugs.

Neatly packaged baggies of weed, powder, pills—basically, the whole damn pharmacy.

“That’s weird,” Gwen spoke up. “A dealer wouldn’t just ditch their stash. That’s the kind of thing that gets you killed by your own people.”

Yeah, no argument there.

It was obviously some street pusher’s haul. Maybe a courier’s. But where the hell was the owner?

No tracks. No signs of a struggle.

“Which means either she got scared off, or something took her.” Petra slipped right into detective mode.

“Uh… Spider? Why do we care?” I raised a brow.

Two masked faces turned to me in silent question, waiting for an explanation.

“Like, why are we looking for a drug dealer? To thank whatever scared her off?” I deliberately didn’t mention the possibility that she was dead or… eaten. “For all we know, Daredevil did it. She’s always cleaning up Hell’s Kitchen.”

That last part? Not random.

Because I had just picked up a heat signature entering my energy vision—someone moving stealthily, practically ghosting down the wall behind the crates, barely four meters away.

“Maybe she just got dragged around the corner, beaten up, and left in a dumpster, where her kind belongs.”

“Salamander, if we save people, we save everyone.” Ah, so noble, Spidey. But trust me, some people? Not worth saving. “Look over here…”

She pointed at a nearby manhole cover—slightly ajar, not fully closed. The backpack was right next to it.

“Mmm… How about we just shut it and move on?” I tried one last time to avoid crawling into the sewer.

Parker, in absolute silence, pried the cover off completely and stared at me.

“You going in?”

“Going in. No choice.” I sighed, shrugging in resignation.

I mean, really. I can’t just leave them. What if we go down there and find Lizard? Or some other nightmare? Four mutant turtles and a giant rat, maybe?

“But before we do… let’s meet our guest.”

With that, I flooded the hiding spot with bright light from my palm.

A few seconds of stillness.

Then, from behind the crates, a woman in a Daredevil-red suit stood up.

The girls immediately shifted—Parker and Gwen stepping apart, web-shooters half-raised.

Me? I stayed put.

No need to get jumpy.

A hand-to-hand fighter? Not exactly a threat to me.

“No need to get nervous.” The woman said calmly, holding her hands up in a not-a-threat gesture. “Good evening, Salamander. Spider, nice to see you. And you are…?”

She turned toward Gwen, clearly unable to place her.

Which was interesting.

Daredevil sees with echolocation, right? How does she tell people apart? By memorizing Parker’s shape?

Must be.

Sounds like they already knew each other.

“Her name’s Silk.” Parker answered.

“Daredevil? Do you know what happened to the owner of this…” She lifted the drug-filled backpack.

“No, unfortunately, that wasn’t me.” The woman’s voice carried a hint of amusement. Then she turned toward me. “Got here just after you did. I would have stepped out sooner, but your guy here beat me to it. How’d you even notice me? I was sure I snuck in undetected.”

Yeah, fair question.

Both Spider and Silk, with all their enhanced senses, hadn’t even noticed her.

“Unconventional perception.” I shrugged, keeping it vague.

She nodded, accepting that answer without pressing further.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go down there.” Daredevil made a last attempt to dissuade us. “It’s dark, it smells awful, and we have no idea what’s down there. I can check it out while you keep looking up here.”

“No, we’ve already decided to go.” Parker was unshakable. “And it’s safer if we go together.”

“Mmm… Alright. Then I’ll go with you.”

“Oh? You want to join us on this delightful journey into the depths of filth and stench?” I couldn’t help the dry sarcasm, still slightly annoyed at Parker’s knight-in-shining-armor routine dragging me into the sewers.

“I’d be going in anyway. And honestly? I’m not thrilled about it.” Daredevil sighed. “My sense of smell is extremely sensitive. But if you’re really set on going down there… I have to join you.”

She exhaled sharply.

“I don’t want some kids getting eaten by a mutant alligator. I’d feel guilty later.”

“Ha-ha.” Gwen let out a very nervous laugh. “That’s just an urban legend. There aren’t actually alligators in the sewers, right?”

No one answered.

“No, seriously. That’s just a joke, right?”

“Just…” Daredevil made an uncertain motion with her hand. “Be careful, okay? I’ve seen some shit on the surface. What’s underneath? I don’t want to imagine.”

Silk mumbled something under her breath as we gathered around the gaping hole in the street.

I distinctly caught the words: "Smartasses."

And then, very quietly: "…maybe we should just leave the damn drug dealer."

“I'll go first. The dark won’t bother me. Then you two follow, got it?” said Daredevil.

“Uh… okay.” Spider didn’t even argue, easily handing over leadership of the “party” to Daredevil. Honestly, fair enough. She had way more experience than all of us combined, and if we were gonna wander into a literal shithole, might as well let the person who could navigate in darkness take point. Even with my glowing self providing some illumination, her skills were an undeniable advantage.

We climbed down.

And… yeah.

Toby, it’s not cool to be petty.

But I am feeling a little smug.

See, I have built-in filters in my mask. Courtesy of Dr. McCoy. The girls? Not so much. Their masks practically wrinkled with the force of their expressions, and even Murdock winced.

And yet, here we were.

I told them not to go down here. But noooo, terminal hero syndrome is a thing. Even Daredevil—who should have known better—jumped right in.

Like, seriously?

"Hey, guys! You’re planning a little swim in raw sewage? Sure you don’t wanna reconsider? No? Absolutely certain? Oh, in that case, count me in—I’d never forgive myself if I missed out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"

I expected better judgment from an adult hero. Someone with more experience. A bit of healthy cynicism. But to be fair… what else was she supposed to do?

Fight three powered teenagers? Let a bunch of kids wander into potential danger?

Daredevil is a certified do-gooder, through and through.

And now here we were, standing in a sewer, looking around.

To the left, an identical tunnel.

To the right, same thing.

Walls streaked with something unpleasant, and a revolting little river of filth ran right through the middle. The only light was coming from me, and there were no tracks—just surprisingly dry walkways on either side of the sewage stream.

“Ladies, I just wanna get this out there now: no splitting up and no sex.”

Three heads snapped toward me.

Well. Three masks.

I couldn’t actually see their expressions, but the silence was pretty damn loud.

“I’ve seen way too many horror movies about walking around in the dark. If we split up, we will get picked off one by one. If we start getting freaky, something will kill all of you first, then come for me… best case scenario, it eats me right away. Worst case?”

I really didn’t wanna relive that horror flick I watched the other night—director’s alias was "Mid Night" or something. Dude had an obsession with vampires and weird kinks. Whole thing was called Vampire’s Life.

I shuddered at the memory.

“So, just think of this as a weird guy’s personal quirk, but let’s stick together, yeah? We’ve only got two directions—fifty-fifty chance of picking the right one. That’s pretty good odds, right? And only Daredevil can actually see in the dark, and I can’t split myself into two cute little glowing Salamanders.”

In the comics, Spidey got night vision after dying and coming back. As far as I knew, Petra didn’t have that. Her senses were sharper, sure, but that was it.

By extension, Gwen probably had the same limitations.

So, really, my argument was airtight.

Unbeatable.

And… completely ignored.

“Then you two go right. I’ll go left. I don’t need light, and I’m used to working alone. I would’ve gone in here on my own anyway, and this way, we can cover both directions.”

Fucking hell.

Yuriko was right. Heroes are morons.

Going into the sewers for some random drug dealer, then splitting up?

I was fuming.

Trailing behind the two spiders—so I wouldn’t blind them—I muttered to myself the entire way.

"I’m here with you kids so you don’t get eaten by a crocodile, kids! I have to, or I’ll feel bad! Blah, blah, blah. But oh, go ahead and split up, kids! My conscience is totally at peace now!"

“Sal… you’re overreacting.” Gwen tried to soothe me.

“You know what, Silk? I have a bad feeling about this,” I carefully patted her shoulder. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer. I’ll shut up now and focus.”

“It’s fine.” There was warmth in her voice, reassuring. “I’m nervous too. Spider’s just pretending to be totally chill.”

“Pff.” Petra snorted. “I am on edge. I just don’t whine about it. And I listen to that—ugh—whiner behind me.”

She very quickly corrected herself.

Mmm. Yeah, she was gonna slip up and expose one of us eventually.

“Girls, I did say I wouldn’t bring the mood down…” I started, looking down at the thing I had just stepped in. “But for the record, can we all agree that our first adventure together is already a complete shitshow?”

The quiet, eerie tunnels of the New York sewer system echoed with three slightly tense, but genuine, laughs.


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