Peter looked troubled, and Ailer, noticing the injury near his eye, asked, "Did those guys bully you again?"
"I was bullied, but not by the same group of people." Under Ailer's persistent questioning, Peter nodded, "This time, even Flash got a beating from them."
Flash was a classmate of Peter's, full name Eugene "Flash" Thompson, with "Flash" being his self-proclaimed nickname.
Flash was in excellent physical condition, a member of the school's football team, decent-looking, but with a bad temper, often using his physical advantage to bully Peter.
However, this time, Flash clearly encountered a tough opponent.
"Since you've come to me, does that mean they're no longer just playing around?" Ailer's expression darkened, looking as if he could erupt at any moment.
"..." Peter didn't speak, just nodded repeatedly.
Seeing this, Ailer said, "I'll go to school with you tomorrow and see who dares to cause such trouble!"
..................
The next day, 4 PM
At Midtown High School, students without sports or club activities were already free to go home. Peter Parker was one of them; he slung his backpack over his shoulder, put on his White headphones, and prepared to walk home.
But Parker hadn't gone far before he was stopped by two large thugs.
"Kid, where's the money?" The thug leader extorted Peter, "You should know what happens if you don't pay protection fees, right?"
"That kid nicknamed Flash almost had his leg broken by us," the thug's subordinate chimed in.
Seeing this, Peter felt a slight panic, but he had someone backing him, so he spoke with great confidence, firmly stating:
"I won't give you a single cent!"
"Looks like you need to learn a lesson!" Seeing this, the thug leader immediately felt offended, so he prepared to teach Peter a lesson with violence.
The thug leader threw a punch, and Peter subconsciously closed his eyes, but several seconds passed, and the pain still hadn't arrived.
"Peter, I need to teach you something: in a fight, your eyes are your second heart. If you close your eyes, you're not far from losing!"
Ailer's voice rang in Peter's ears. He had been hiding in the shadows to protect Peter, and the moment the thug threw his punch, he rushed out and blocked the thug's fist with his palm.
"Who are you?!" The thug tried to break free from Ailer's grip, but no matter how much force he exerted, Ailer maintained a calm expression, while the thug's own face turned as red as a pig's liver.
"You go home first, Peter. I'll handle things here."
"Then Big Brother Ailer, please be careful." Peter, though worried, followed Ailer's suggestion and went home.
At this moment, Ailer exerted a slight force, dislocating the thug's arm bone. The latter immediately let out a painful wail, and Ailer took the opportunity to say:
"I'm here to teach you how to be human. Demanding money from a high school student from a poor family? Where's your shame!"
After speaking, Ailer also kicked the thug, not injuring him but causing him immense pain.
Seeing this, the thug's subordinate immediately begged for mercy, "Please let us go, Big Brother, we were forced into this!"
Hearing this, Ailer became interested and asked, "Then you'd better tell me clearly, who forced you to do these things."
"It's an addict named Weina," the thug's subordinate said. "He and his accomplices have suddenly become greedy for money recently, and they even forced us with guns to get money, so that's why we..."
"Addict?" Ailer's face showed a mocking smile, "They probably got some new stuff!"
Ailer usually didn't concern himself with ordinary human crimes in New York City, but that didn't mean he would ignore cases related to addicts. He glared at the large thug writhing on the ground in pain.
"Stop howling, get up!"
"Yes, yes, yes!" The large thug dared not neglect Ailer and immediately scrambled to his feet.
'Crack'
Suddenly, Ailer struck out sharply, resetting the large thug's arm in the most painful way possible.
"Ah!" The large thug let out a howl.
"Now, take me to them immediately, hurry!" There was no room for negotiation in Ailer's tone; it was more like a command than a request.
"Can we just take you to the entrance?"
"Stop with the nonsense, lead the way, and also, find a proper job from now on, or I'll beat you every time I see you!"
Under Ailer's urging, the two thugs led him, and after traversing several streets, he arrived at the front door of a two-story building.
The surroundings were terrible; the grass was withered and yellow, and the trash can by the door looked like it hadn't been emptied in days. Ailer could even see flies buzzing everywhere.
"This is it," the large thug said, pointing to the house. "Can we go now?"
"Get lost." Ailer didn't spare them another glance, walking directly to the front door by himself. He rang the doorbell.
Ding-dong—
After a clear chime, an impatient voice came from inside the house.
"Who is it?!"
Ailer estimated the time, and when it was about right, he directly kicked open the fragile door panel, causing the wooden door to fall directly onto the person who had come to open it.
"F*ck, are you sick?!"
The dizzy addict cursed subconsciously, but he had barely moved the wooden door off himself and hadn't even stood steady when an M1911 was pressed against his forehead.
In principle, with over a dozen people backing him, he naturally wouldn't be afraid of a single opponent.
But the problem was, the principle was in the opponent's hand!
The loud commotion naturally attracted the other addicts, and those who could move rushed to the door, wanting to see what had happened. When they reached the door, they heard a loud shout.
"Don't move, he has a gun!" The addict yelled at his other companions.
The numerous addicts all stopped in their tracks. Ailer, seeing this, shouted, "Who is Weina?!"
"That's me." Then, a White male with a sallow face, withered hair, and empty, corpse-like eyes walked out. He was wearing a loose leather jacket, and his lower back was slightly bulging, indicating he had a gun hidden. Besides him, others also had guns hidden.
This was likely the source of their audacity.
"Tell me about the new stuff you got that makes you so eager for it," Ailer asked calmly.
Hearing this, Weina, however, showed an incredulous expression. He retorted, "Why should I tell you?"
"I'm giving you a chance, and you're refusing it."
Ailer's face showed a look of derision, then he moved to the side, acting like the wind. These addicts, whose bodies had been hollowed out, couldn't react at all, and their guns posed no threat to Ailer.
In an instant, Weina was the only addict left standing in the house.
"Now, can you tell me how you're getting your supply?"
"Yes!" Weina replied very rationally.
-----------------------
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(End of Chapter)