Over the next two hours, Arthur talked about various things with Jean.
Under the guidance of his reasoning, Jean's mouth slowly formed an "O" of surprise.
This made Arthur feel as if Jean were unintentionally trying to seduce him into doing something immoral.
"Then you have to understand one truth. If you think about Professor X's tolerance and accommodation, it is impossible to make the high officials treat you mutants the same as ordinary humans."
"On the contrary, it will make them think the X-Men are fools and easy to manipulate."
"What you've been dealing with was never peaceful coexistence, but a transaction between two races."
Arthur continued, "And Jean, deals are never fair."
"The side with more bargaining power and influence will always hold the advantage."
After receiving so much useful knowledge at once, Jean felt her head wasn't enough to process it all.
It looked as if she were on the verge of enlightenment.
But something was still missing.
"Mr. Morgan, wait a moment—let me digest this information first," Jean said, begging for a pause.
"No problem, I've already finished what I had to say."
"But I can give you a little help. Think about this: Magneto, Professor X, and Tony Stark."
"These three pose the greatest threats to the United States and the entire world."
"But the three are treated differently by the government. Which one is considered the greater threat, and why do you think they are treated differently?"
"When you figure out the answer, you'll be able to understand what's happening to mutants now."
After speaking, Arthur leaned back and continued to enjoy the sun.
Jean, meanwhile, stood frozen in thought, pondering his question.
Why are they treated differently?
Before, she would have said Magneto without hesitation.
But not anymore.
In the streets.
George finally arrived at the place where Gwen had defeated the thief.
When he saw several police officers crouched on the ground, he immediately scolded them:
"What are you doing there?"
"Where's the thief? Where's the hostage?"
"We were interrogating the thief just now, Captain Stacy."
(On the floor?)
(Then he was shot dead…?)
(No, how would they interrogate him if he'd been killed?)
(He must have been subdued.)
"And why didn't you take him to the police station? Why are you interrogating him in public?"
George wasn't against interrogations happening on-site, but a small mistake in how they treated a criminal in public could easily turn into a huge problem.
The officer didn't know how to explain and helplessly said, "Captain, you should go take a look yourself."
George frowned, then walked over.
He saw the thief pinned to the floor by webs.
(Webs?)
(Where did this spider web come from—and why is it so big?)
Confused, George looked to the officer in charge of the scene, who immediately handed him a phone.
"Captain, see for yourself what happened."
George took the phone and saw a video of a girl in black-and-white tights bravely rescuing the hostage.
In the same instant, she pinned the thief to the ground with a spider's web.
"Who is this?"
"People are calling her Spider-Woman," the officer replied, unable to hide the excitement in his tone.
He had witnessed the entire act firsthand.
It would be a lie to say he wasn't thrilled.
"Spider-Woman?"
George's puzzled eyes revealed he had never heard of such a character.
"A superhero appeared today. Many people across the city have been posting videos and photos of her sightings in the past few minutes."
"Internet users are calling her Spider-Woman."
The officer scrolled down, showing George the comments below the video.
"This is nonsense!"
George suddenly grew angry.
"Fighting crime is the duty of the police."
"Take this man to the police station immediately. I'll interrogate him myself!"
"But Captain, there's no way we can tear those webs apart."
"If you can't tear it, then cut it with a knife!"
"Yes, sir!"
In truth, George despised masked vigilantes the most.
In his eyes, they were nothing more than people committing violence under the guise of 'fighting crime.'
"Spider-Woman, I'm going to arrest you!"
In a tall building far away.
Gwen pulled out her phone and took a selfie.
But for some reason, she suddenly sneezed. The phone slipped from her hand, but she quickly shot a web and caught it midair.
"Phew~ That was close!"
"The wind up here is really strong…"
Gwen continued browsing her phone, skimming through the comments on her video and automatically ignoring the more provocative ones.
A satisfied smile curled at the corner of her lips.
"Spider-Woman, hmm~ I like that name."
Gwen was delighted with her new title.
After monitoring the police channel for a while longer, Gwen took off her headphones.
"I'm going to Arthur's now."
"I'll ask him what he thinks of Spider-Woman."
Packing everything into her backpack, Gwen swiftly headed for Arthur's house.
Spider-Woman's appearance hadn't just exploded across the Internet—
it had also caught the attention of others.
Inside a black aircraft carrier, countless surveillance devices operated simultaneously.
The footage covered nearly every inch of the United States.
Each team member wore a jumpsuit bearing an eagle logo.
Beneath it was the name of the institution:
Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.
Or, in short—S.H.I.E.L.D.
The director, Nick Fury, stood on the observation deck, watching his agents at work.
At that moment, a short-haired woman approached.
"Director, a vigilante has appeared in New York."
"Would you like to take a look?"
Nick Fury glanced at the tablet she handed him, then passed it back.
With just one look, he immediately discerned Gwen's age.
"She's just another brat."
"As long as there are no problems, don't bother with her."
"Of course…"
(End of chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."