Herman was a man who enjoyed a good laugh.
He shot Peter Parker a half-smile. Moments like this had been rare lately—watching Spider-Man publicly embarrass himself was just too entertaining!
"I just... I just... I'm sorry."
Peter Parker stood before Herman with his head down, looking like a kid who'd been scolded, face burning with shame. He felt like he'd done something wrong and been caught red-handed.
Seeing that, Herman chuckled and stopped teasing Peter Parker.
"Really, no need to apologize. This is a deal—we genuinely need these photos."
Herman studied the pictures in his hand carefully. Every angle. Every pose. No ordinary candid could reach this level.
Part of it was Peter Parker's excellent photography—on par with a seasoned professional—and part of it was how well Peter Parker played to the camera. Even before they were released, Herman could already see these shots becoming a hit with New Yorkers.
Young Spider-Man fans would probably cut them out and paste them on pencil cases or other personal stuff. It was no exaggeration. In New York City, Spider-Man's popularity surpassed that of many Hollywood stars. He was the traffic magnet of this era.
"I just wanted to make some money. I know this kind of thing isn't great, but I figured..."
Peter Parker was still apologizing. His chatterbox side was starting to come out.
"Are you that strapped for cash?"
Herman looked at Peter Parker, puzzled. With Aunt May's current salary, he shouldn't be going hungry. The pay Herman set for Aunt May was higher than most urban white-collar jobs. Otherwise, Peter Parker wouldn't have mistakenly thought Aunt May had something improper going on with him.
"My aunt's birthday is coming up, and I want to earn the money myself to buy her a gift."
Peter Parker was a good kid who knew how to repay kindness. Still, raising money by selling photo sets... pretty unique.
"You..."
Herman was about to speak.
"It's the boss!"
"Boss, why didn't you notify us first!"
"A warm welcome to our new leader's first visit to our newspaper!"
At that moment, the management team, having gotten word, rushed out one after another, bowing and scraping before Herman.
As an old and established newspaper, the staff were all fairly young, the oldest barely in their forties. The previous generation of veterans had likely already worked themselves into the grave.
"Wait for me in the conference room. I'll hold a brief meeting shortly."
Herman wasn't impressed by their flattery. If Tony Stark ever groveled before him, that would be truly satisfying.
He first drove away the sycophants, then led a somewhat bewildered Peter Parker past the newsroom and into the office reserved exclusively for the boss.
Outside, a crowd of employees chattered about the new boss.
"It really is him! Even more handsome than on TV!"
"Oh my god! Our new boss is actually Homelander! I was about to quit, but now I think I can stick it out a little longer!"
"Did you see that solid, reassuring build? I'd love for him to pick me up and... well, do unspeakable things!"
With his sharp hearing, Peter Parker caught every word of their gossip. After hesitating, he couldn't help but ask,
"Sir, is The Boys really your autobiography?"
Peter Parker was still young and, like any other kid, spent time surfing the internet. As a well-rounded model student of the new era, he strongly disagreed with the values depicted in The Boys.
However, since the girl he liked adored the show, he had forced himself to watch a few episodes—just the first handful.
Even so, he thought the superheroes in it were absolute scum. Especially the man standing before him, the one who played Homelander. To Peter, Homelander was the very definition of human trash.
He couldn't understand why his crush liked it so much.
Did being handsome mean you could get away with anything?
The thought of her ignoring him at school while plastering Herman's photos all over her backpack made Peter's chest ache.
"If you can't speak properly, then say less."
Herman's smile was bright and sunny.
But Peter's hair stood on end.
That was the reaction his body had when it sensed danger.
"I'm sorry!"
Peter blurted out an apology, genuine fear in his voice.
He might be strong, but he didn't think he could stand up to someone who could literally punch a person apart, or punch holes straight through an enhanced human.
"Do you know why I called you in?"
Herman forgave him easily, settling into the leather chair left behind by the former boss.
"To settle my freelance payment?" Peter guessed cautiously, still a little confused.
Could it be that his aunt's boss was about to give him a lecture? Teach him how to be a superhero?
"That's something Finance handles. I called you in to offer you a job."
Herman fiddled with the Spider-Man photos in his hand.
"But I'm still in school... I can't take on a job."
Peter hesitated. He had no intention of dropping out just to work. With his strong grades, his goal was Empire State University, where he hoped to become a scientist like his late parents.
Photography wasn't his passion or his dream.
"You can think of it as a side gig, just like submitting photos to the newspaper. Wouldn't it be nice to earn a bit of extra pocket money?"
Herman set the photo on the table and gestured for Peter to sit across from him.
"Sir, you mean... you want me to keep taking Spider-Man photos?" Peter finally realized.
What other part-time job could he possibly do here, besides fiddling with his own pictures?
"Of course not just that. Photos of you fighting criminals too. Don't worry, I'll pay you very well."
Herman spoke with absolute confidence. Money was the last thing he lacked.
Peter was tempted. A part-time job that didn't require dropping out of school sounded perfect. He had always wanted to save enough to cover his college tuition.
In the U.S., university wasn't cheap. The better the school, the higher the tuition.
Especially for schools that produced scientists—knowledge came at a price. Many graduates spent years paying off student loans. Even though Aunt May had found a decent job, Peter still wanted to help ease the burden at home.
...
Herman constantly monitored Peter Parker's surface thoughts. Every flicker of the boy's mind was laid bare to him, completely unnoticed.
"Looks like it's in the bag."
Herman felt the situation was already settled. Spidey couldn't escape his grasp.
"I don't mind the job, and I want the pay, but wouldn't this make it too easy for my identity to be exposed?"
Peter Parker was tempted by the offer, but a lingering worry gnawed at him—fear that this might reveal Spider-Man's true identity.
"You only need to hand the photos to me. No contact with anyone else. I'll just tell others that the source of the material is Spider-Man himself."
Herman's suggestion was reasonable, and Peter considered it for a moment.
"I might give it a try, but I can't make any promises."
Peter worried he wouldn't always be able to carry a camera while doing his vigilante work.
"I don't need photos of bio-engineered humans or augmented humans. Aunt May wouldn't want me sending you into that kind of danger. Just material from taking down robbers, fugitives, and gangsters. I need at least fifty photos for each incident."
"As for payment—how about a thousand dollars?" Herman said calmly, straightening the photos laid out on his desk.
"A thousand dollars!"
Peter Parker had never seen that kind of money before. His eyes went wide.
"Sir, I promise I can complete the task. I won't let you down!"
The words burst out almost instinctively.
Peter accepted the job without hesitation. People may laugh at him, but in the end, weren't they all the same as him?
Even Spider-Man couldn't escape the sweet trap of the 'too good to resist' law!