Marvel: I Have A Super USB Drive

Joe's face remained unreadable as he scanned through the information he had gathered on Kingpin.

He played around with the neuralyzer between his fingers and slowly moved around the holographic information. 

His hyperactive mind raced with countless thoughts. That was the problem with possessing a nearly uncontrollable superintelligence: one would inevitably end up with convoluted thoughts. At least he could efficiently partition his mind, keeping the most vital information at the forefront.

Sighing to himself, Joe swiped at the hologram, revealing a new image: a bald man in his thirties, sporting a psychopathic grin that twisted his insufferable face. He appeared utterly unfazed in the signature prison outfit as if boredom washed over him at the prospect of mingling with his kind.

"Benjamin Poindexter. Multiple cases of manslaughter. Arsonist charges for razing his home to ashes. He deliberately imprisoned himself to roast his abusive father into a barbecue. He also happens to be a freelance assassin." Joe reviewed the man's criminal data. 

His brows arched with interest because he had basic information about the character from his past life. Yeah, it's totally meta. 

"Mr. Dexter, or should I call you 'Bullseye'? You really are a naughty boy. And now that you are glued to the Kingpin like his dog, you get to do everything the way you have always wanted." 

Minerva's virtual particles coalesced into her stunning form beside Joe. 

"Today, I learned something from Buddhist teachings. There exist four noble truths, and what such a man needs is forgiveness to alleviate his mortal sufferings. According to the Eightfold Path, we shouldn't hurt others or have any intent to harm the creatures under Buddha's compassion," she said with enough clarity and humility that you might have thought she was a reincarnated Bodhisattva from an ancient temple. 

Joe scrunched his face in surprise while giving her an unbelievable side glance. 'The fuck's wrong with you, Min?' 

"Please perform a thorough self-diagnostic scan on your core," he ordered with a weird expression. "I can't have you malfunctioning right now." 

Minerva placed her hands on her waist and comically rolled her eyes. "Really? Do I look malfunctioned to you?"

"Or am I prohibited from learning about this world's religions and teachings?" She smirked sarcastically, her head innocently tilted to the side. She was feigning cluelessness. 

Joe found himself chuckling after seeing her reaction. He shook his head and waved a hand of dismissal. "Those were some of the most hypocritical words I have ever heard from you. You can't be talking about forgiveness, especially when the person involved is a hardcore psychopathic assassin."

"Do we all deserve forgiveness, regardless of what atrocities we have done in life?" Joe lightly scoffed, referring to himself and everyone. In this world, there were no saints. Being sinful contributed to one's survival. However, the sins one was willing to commit differed from person to person. 

"Maybe we do. Maybe we don't. I'm neither a supreme God nor know if one truly exists. You can only forgive yourself, I guess," Minerva commented, a thoughtful expression on her face. 

"Hmm, that's a nice perspective. However, our guy here probably wouldn't want anyone's forgiveness, even from himself. He's already fallen deep into the abyss. He's a man who only lives for chaos and blood. And a man like that..." Joe laced his hands behind his back. 

"...is irredeemable." 

Minerva nodded. "I have noticed that humans rarely change. Change is an insurmountable wall that most humans have failed to jump over. It's interesting how even a simple addiction can enslave a man to his deep desires." 

"We are all the imperfect lot, aren't we?" Joe beautifully smiled. 

"And only a small percentage of truly exceptional humans stand out from the rest," he added as he used one of his hands to place the neuralyzar on the smooth glass surface. 

As the two casually conversed between themselves, a silhouette stealthily arrived just in time above the warehouse's roof. 

It was Spider-Man. This time, he was serious about testing Joe's senses. Before, he'd been casual—nothing like a spider trained in the art of ambushing its prey. When he focused, few could detect his presence.

'Lord, forgive me for what I'm about to do.' Peter mentally braced himself, performing a ridiculous prayer pose as he crawled inside the warehouse. He knew where to evade the motion sensors and avoid being discovered. 

Back in the lab, one of Joe's ears twitched involuntarily, detecting a subtle disturbance in the airflow. His nose caught a familiar, foul scent of sweat.

'Trying to act like a ninja, spidey? First, work on your dirty suit and sweaty ass.' Joe snickered inwardly, a humorous smile tugging the corners of his lips. 

Minerva noticed this and curiously asked, "What's funny?" 

"We have a sneaky visitor," Joe explained.

"Oh, I see. I didn't expect him to be this capable. The spider serum is worth researching. But its value isn't as pronounced as the serum you took." 

"The idea of shooting sticky webs out of my orifices doesn't sit well with me." 

"But he doesn't—wait, does he? I thought he uses those custom-made web shooters." 

"Hehe, not him. But another one." 

"Another version of Spider-Man? Parallel universe? Multiverse theory?" Minerva guessed while relaxedly crossing her arms. 

Joe winked at her, saying, "You shouldn't be surprised. Didn't we engineer a suit capable of going micro?"

"For the love of me, I can't just visualize several nasty Joes being menaces to the society and spreading mayhem in different universes." Minerva slightly furrowed her brows. "And being mean for no reason." 

Joe opened his mouth, not sure what to say for a second. "I hope I don't have cheap copies of myself. That would be disastrous for the multiverse." 

"Ditto." 

Joe knowingly nodded at Minerva, feeling that it was time to expose Peter. 

Minerva quickly understood the message and nodded in response. Instantly, an intense light illuminated a specific spot on the ceiling.

Spider-Man was immediately exposed. 

'Dang it, I was caught again. That sucks.' Peter cursed in his mind as he reflexively put a protective hand over his face. 

"Guys, are you trying to make me go blind?" Peter groaned loudly. 

"You'll still be left with your Peter tingles," Joe stated in amusement. 

"Peter what? Boo, that's completely evil. My Peter—dammit, your weird words have started affecting me." 

"My spidey senses don't work that way, bro." Peter impatiently explained as he began reeling away from the light. 

"Minerva, spare him," Joe sighed. 

The intense light immediately turned off. 

"Phew, thanks, man. That nearly... killed me," Peter quipped in exaggeration before swinging and landing in the lab. 

"How do you do that?" He sighed in exasperation while removing his mask. 

"Do what?" Joe lifted his eyebrow. 

"The creepy detection thing," Peter muttered with a heavy shrug. He noticed a lone protein bar nearby, grabbed it, tore off the wrapper, and took a big bite. 

It was then that he noticed Minerva and greeted her. "Hello, Minerva." 

"Hello, Parker." 

"Kettle calling the cup black. Your spidey senses are more unnerving. And... Didn't I tell you not to eat anything you find in my lab?" Joe shifted his position and bore down on Peter with a narrowed gaze. 

"I-I am sorry, I mean, I love protein bars. Wait, did you mess them up?" Peter asked in trepidation, pausing his chewing. 

"What do you take me for? I'm a good person," Joe innocently declared. 

Minerva facepalmed herself. 'Everyone can be good but you.'

"I don't believe your words, but..." Peter awkwardly smiled. "I believe in the protein bar." He munched on it, seemingly ignoring the possibility of Joe's mischief. 

All in all, he weirdly trusted the motherfucker. 

Joe winced jokingly. 

"So what are you two talking about? There's this serious mood all over the place. It made me curious," Peter inquired as he threw the wrapper into the bin. 

"You really don't wanna know," Joe blandly stated. 

"True indeed. Heed my words," Minerva cropped in. 

Peter strangely alternated his gaze between the two. "Why do I feel like I'm being singled out?" 

"You're among us. No one's singling out anyone. Isn't that right, Minerva?" Joe glanced at her. 

She nodded in affirmation. 

"See?" Joe widely opened his arms to make a point. 

"Suspicious much. My senses tell me not to disturb the hornet's nest. Probably something my ears won't be happy about." Peter showed those Homer-type eyes as his attention accidentally dropped to the amazing pen on the table's surface. It was sleek, subtly radiating that silver luster. 

He moved toward it almost unconsciously, drawn by curiosity. It looked cool, and he simply wanted to know what it was. How was he supposed to react to something that radiated such strong Sci-fi vibes?

Just as he was about to take the pen, a firm grasp engulfed his wrist, effortlessly stopping him. 

Peter frowned at the hand, annoyance creeping in on his face. 'Why did he stop me? Isn't it just a cool pen? What more could it be? And how is his grip so strong? Fucking monster!' 

"Wait a bit," Joe asserted, pulling a pair of black glasses from his pocket. Only after putting them on did he release Peter's hand.

Peter froze, unsure of what to do next. Joe's peculiar actions made it clear that something was off.

Why did he wear black-tinted glasses all of a sudden? 

"Please, Pete. Be my guest," Joe suggested, calmly gesturing toward the Neuralyzer. 

"That is, if you want me to flash your memories with ones that might give you nightmares until you die," he added. "One simple action will determine if you want to be gay after this or want to be my stepson." 

"Choose your own adventure, rover." 

Peter redirected his gaze to Minerva to confirm if everything was true. 

Her warm, undisguised smile—bright as the morning sun—was the last thing he wanted to see in a moment like this. It was chilling, terrifying, and far from angelic.

Peter gulped loudly as he instinctively stepped back. Cold sweats trickled down his back in rapid succession. 

"I-I believe you," he whispered, his voice as shaky as his nerves. "And where did you get that dangerous, flashy thingy?" 

Joe smiled mysteriously. "It's a gift from some friends from out of town." 

***

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