High! That's Right—It's the Hulk!
Nick Fury's talk with Tony ended rather quickly.
Upstairs, Darren finally tore his gaze away from the ceiling and looked toward Natasha, who had somehow relocated halfway across the room. "Why are you standing all the way over there?"
Her face was unreadable. "It's cooler here."
Honestly, who could blame her?
The man had been standing beside her narrating in real time every classified word exchanged between Fury and Stark, like some deranged live translator: "Oh wow, Tony's dad helped found S.H.I.E.L.D.—plot twist!"
Natasha wasn't about to risk being accidentally charged with espionage just because this lunatic had a commentary addiction.
Soon after, Fury descended the stairs, his usual expression halfway between exhaustion and suspicion.
"Agent Romanoff," he ordered, "continue monitoring Tony Stark until Agent Coulson arrives to relieve you."
Then his single eye turned toward Darren. "As for you, Agent Darren… I've got a new assignment."
He paused for effect, probably out of habit. "I need you to head immediately to Midtown High School. There's a man named Bruce Banner—Ross is preparing to move on him. I want eyes on the situation. Report any development directly to me."
And because it was Darren, Fury made sure to emphasize:
"Report first. Act later."
[Mission from NPC Nick Fury: "The Green Monster of Midtown High"]
[Objective: Locate Bruce Banner and report his status to Director Fury]
[Reward: +1000 XP, +20 S.H.I.E.L.D. Reputation, Random Item ×1]
Darren saluted lazily. "Copy that, boss."
With that, he left Stark's oceanfront mansion.
...
Outside, the dozens of luxury cars that had once lined the driveway were gone—replaced by a few S.H.I.E.L.D. utility vehicles.
"Damn. Came too late."
He sighed in disappointment. He'd been planning to borrow one or two cars to "decorate" his garage.
But leaving empty-handed just wasn't his style.
So, a few minutes later…
Nick Fury strode out of the mansion, pulling out his car keys like always, ready to head back to HQ.
Then he froze.
Right there, in the middle of the now-empty driveway, was absolutely nothing.
His car—his custom bulletproof, rocket-resistant S.H.I.E.L.D. sedan—was gone.
"..."
He stood there, the vein on his temple throbbing.
"Where. Is. My. Damn. Car."
...
Meanwhile, across town, Peter Parker was having the worst day of his teenage life.
In the hallway just ahead, his high school crush Mary Jane was not having a friendly chat with her boyfriend, Flash Thompson.
The two were—let's just say—conducting an intensive DNA exchange program.
Peter froze, heart sinking into a pit of molten jealousy and heartbreak.
"That's… quite a pair," said a voice beside him.
He turned sharply.
Standing next to him was a casually dressed man, hands in his pockets and a faint grin on his face.
"You—! You're that guy from the alley—!"
Peter cut himself off mid-sentence, eyes widening. He nearly blurted out the Spider-Man thing. Close one.
Darren tilted his head, studying him. "You look like a guy who's very emotionally invested in that couple."
Peter coughed awkwardly. "N-no, not at all."
"Come on. You can lie to me, but not to yourself," Darren said easily. "Your eyes are screaming it. You like that redhead girl... and hate that blond jock, huh?"
Peter blinked. "Wait—what? No, I—"
"Relax, I'm kidding." Darren chuckled. "But take my advice, kid—she's not for you."
Peter frowned. "Why not?"
"Because she's textbook trouble. The kind of girl who keeps every guy orbiting her like satellites. She's sweet to everyone, belongs to no one."
Peter's face hardened instantly. "Mary Jane isn't like that! I know her! She's my neighbor—she's never flirted with me!"
Darren just stared at him for a moment, then sighed and patted his shoulder in silence.
The gesture said it all.
Poor bastard.
Peter glared, suspicious now. "Who even are you?"
"Name's Darren," he said cheerfully. "New transfer. Physical education."
"You're a student?" Peter asked, incredulous.
Darren smiled. "Why? Don't I look like one?"
No, he didn't. Not even slightly.
No high school student carried the energy of a man who could commit several felonies before lunch.
"You look more like… an author," Peter muttered. "Like someone who writes nonsense for a living."
"Funny you say that," Darren said brightly. "I was a novelist! But my readers kept sending me death threats after I dropped too many series, so I realized—hey, I'm really good at running. That's when I switched careers to P.E."
Peter: "..."
Before he could respond, his senses flared—an electric tingle crawling up his spine.
He snapped his head toward the windows.
Outside, a convoy of military vehicles screeched to a halt at the school gates. Armed soldiers poured out, helmets gleaming, rifles ready.
Darren followed his gaze, whistling low. "Ah, Ross made his move."
Within moments, chaos broke out across campus. Students screamed and scattered as the school's emergency broadcast crackled to life.
"This is not a drill! Everyone evacuate immediately! Repeat—this is NOT a drill!"
Panic swept the hallways.
"Come on, Darren, we've gotta go!" Peter shouted, glancing toward the crowd.
He was relieved to see Mary Jane and Flash already running for the exits—hand in hand, of course, which stung even more.
Darren waved him off casually. "Relax. I'm a P.E. major. Worst case, I pull a muscle."
Peter: "...What kind of logic is that!?"
Then the air trembled.
"ROAAAAAAARRR!!"
The sound hit like thunder—an ancient, primal bellow that shook the walls.
A shockwave followed, blowing out every window in the hall. Glass shattered, raining down as screams filled the air.
And then he appeared.
Bursting through concrete and steel, a mountain of green muscle crashed into view. Nearly three meters tall, skin a deep jungle green that gleamed under the flickering lights, wearing nothing but a pair of tattered purple shorts that had somehow survived physics.
Every breath he took rumbled like distant thunder. His glowing emerald eyes burned with pure, uncontrolled fury.
[NPC: Bruce Banner (The Hulk)]
[Alias: The Green Goliath]
[Affection: 0]
[Evaluation: Loki's Worst Nightmare, Underwear Brand Ambassador, "The Sun's Getting Real Low…" (Do Not Use Unless You're Black Widow)]
[Status: Transforming]
The Hulk had arrived—
and Midtown High was about to experience its worst P.E. class in history.