Gwen's home is not far from the amusement park.

Peter suggested hailing a taxi, while Gwen thought it would be a better option to walk back for twenty minutes. But she seems to be overestimating her resistance to sweets, and a small detour and party in front of the bubble tea shop nearly doubled the twenty minutes.

By the time they reached the downstairs of the apartment, it was nearly evening. The sunset was about to disappear from the horizon, igniting the clouds on the horizon with its last red glow. Peter suddenly had a whim, took out his mobile phone, and left this scene with Gwen into a picture. And when he wanted to take a second photo, Gwen smiled and pushed his phone away.

"Come in and have some tea? Or do you want me to make you a cup of coffee? ”

"Black tea is fine, no sugar and milk."

"You're weird." Gwen grimaced at him, then pushed the door open. And in the next moment, she had to hide the eccentric side of her personality and become the lady in the eyes of everyone again. The reason is simple, George. Stacy was sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Coming back?" George put down the New York Journal in his hand and took off his reading glasses for reading. Gwen kissed him on the cheek and stepped aside. George glanced at Peter and couldn't help but sigh.

"Peter, why don't you stay for dinner? I brought some cold ham and grilled ribs from the unit, and Gwen would be enough to make a mushroom bacon pasta later. ”

"Huh? Is that possible? Peter, who was struggling whether to come up and say hello or sneak away, was stunned. That... Then I am very honored! ”

As soon as he said this, he already regretted it, Aunt Mei must have started to prepare dinner at this point in time, and she would be quite disappointed if she knew that he would not come back for dinner. On the other hand, it would be rude for him to refuse George's invitation now.

Well, I'm sorry Aunt May.

Peter quickly sent a text message to Aunt May. Although she is a little slow to get started with many modern technology products, these basic functions are still fine. Gwen had gone upstairs to change her clothes, and George, who had just come out of the kitchen to make a cup of tea, waved at Peter, motioning for Peter to sit down on the couch across from him.

"Oh, your black tea."

Peter took the tea with some trepidation, and his mind kept thinking about whether he had said something that was not suitable for George to hear. George, on the other hand, had already spoken, and as soon as he did, it was a topic that Peter did not want to talk about.

"First of all, I'm glad you're at least a little more self-controlled. At least none of the people you've been sent to the police station have been beaten to the point of cerebral hemorrhage. What a blessing, do you think we should open a bottle of wine to celebrate a little? George's slightly mocking tone was still cold, but it was much better than the hostility it had been a few weeks ago.

"I'm sorry, I'm not yet 21 years old and can't drink."

George frowned, and Peter suddenly shouted in his heart that something was wrong. This sentence, which was supposed to be a joke, turned into an alternative counterattack after he said it in a blunt tone. And George just looked gloomy for a few seconds before he put the matter behind him.

"Then I won't talk nonsense. I want you to suspend all your nocturnal activities for the next period of time, until we resolve the current mess. ”

George's words were straightforward, and Peter couldn't give an answer for a moment. He took a sip of black tea, which was much more bitter than he was used to. After staring at the delicate ceramic tea set for nearly half a minute, Peter spoke.

"Why now?"

"Because it's getting big now." George replied, and Peter could even feel his exhaustion through his tone. "You know, before Fisk's case comes out, these illegal groups in New York will be somewhat restrained. But now they seem to be carried away by power, and there are even some people who have no regard for the overall situation and directly carry out large-scale massacres. ”

"Doesn't that make my help even more necessary?" Peter pleaded in a low voice. "Think about it, if you can help me, we can stop these massacres from happening."

George chuckled, at first with some sarcasm and disdain, but they were quickly replaced by helplessness.

"Stop the slaughter from happening? Peter, you're not Captain America. I've seen how badly you've been hurt, you're flesh and blood, not the superhero those people boast about. George raised his right hand to his ear and made a gesture of shooting at the temple. As long as you do, you won't be able to escape death. ”

"But Mr. Stacy, it was different that time!" Peter was slightly unconvinced. "You have to trust me, ordinary bastards..."

"But now you're not dealing with the roadside thugs, Peter." George quickly interrupted Peter. "These people are organized, they have weapons, damn I even think they have people on top. And can you guarantee that the situation you said will never happen again? ”

"I—" Peter seemed a little speechless, his face flushed, but he couldn't find a way to convince George.

"Peter, I believe you, that's why I didn't arrest you and send you to the police. I believe that you have the ability and sincerity to help others. George patted Peter on the shoulder, and his own expression fell. But this time it's different, you have to trust me. I really don't want to see your body at a scene, I don't want to comfort a broken Gwen, and I don't want to go to your uncles and aunts and tell them lies about how you got to this point. ”

After a brief silence, Peter struggled a little before he could speak what was in his heart. "I'm not going to put myself in danger, but I need to help those people, you know?"

"It's not your responsibility!" There was already a hint of annoyance in George's tone. Peter's stubbornness made him a little angry.

He'd already broken his bottom line for the boy, and he wasn't ready to do it a second time.

"Isn't that my responsibility? Perhaps for an ordinary person, many things are indeed not his responsibility. Peter asked rhetorically. But when I could hear someone crying for help, and I had the power to save him, in the end I decided to ignore his cry for help and let him get hurt or even die. Isn't it my responsibility for what happened to this man? ”

"Of course—" This time, George could not confidently repeat his previous words again. His brain was in a mess for a moment. Although he still believed that he was the right person at this moment, he was unable to organize a strong counterattack.

-----

The next dinner was a bit dull. George barely spoke again after his advice was ineffective, and Peter himself was too preoccupied to notice Gwen's attempts to stir up the topic. The whole dinner was spent almost in silence, and by the end Gwen was almost fried. She didn't understand what the two men had said in the five or six minutes since she had disappeared. She almost tried to kick Peter under the table to get his idea, but in the end she didn't do it for fear that her father would find out.

"Thanks for the hospitality, it's getting late, it's time for me to go home." After helping Gwen clean up the table, Peter took his leave. George replied casually and did not get up from his couch. Gwen escorted Peter all the way to the door, and whispered to Peter what he had just told her father.

"It's really not a big deal. Talked about some of his work and he was just too tired, I swear. ”

"Really? You swear? Gwen stared at Peter's face suspiciously, trying to get some important clues from his expression. By this time, however, Peter had turned his attention to George's room. With his Force-reinforced hearing, he easily heard a phone call that George had just answered.

"Captain... Russian gangsters... Queens Quarter... More than twenty people..."

Although he could only grasp a very limited number of words from the muffled voice, Peter knew very well that he was going to do something tonight that would displease George.