However, this also brought another problem—the current Peter Parker.
"Since that guy sent you here, maybe he intends to trap you here." Bruce was well aware that while Spider-Man was quite a chatterbox, he was also a major headache for criminals.
Just as they felt when facing him.
"It looks like we might have to see if your enemy will get too clever for his own good and come looking for you."
Bruce said this without much confidence.
Mysterio had already achieved his goal.
Why would he take the risk of coming here?
Unless that guy, like the Tinkerer before him, wanted to expand his business across the entire multiverse.
If that were the case, then his arrival was inevitable.
But when it came to Mysterio's illusion attacks, Bruce recalled another individual from his memories—someone whose methods were strikingly similar to Mysterio's.
The only difference was that the other individual was a genius in psychology and chemistry, whereas Mysterio seemed more like a mechanical and programming genius.
Although Mysterio had some background in chemistry, it wasn't particularly advanced.
Perhaps that was one of the best ways to deal with someone like him.
Bruce turned and walked toward his research lab.
The method for making that particular substance was still fresh in his mind.
Watching Bruce leave, Peter Parker wanted to stop him, but it was clear Bruce had his own plans.
"So why don't we just find some kind of super-agent organization to help us figure out what to do?"
When Peter Parker first saw this world, his immediate impression was chaos.
He hadn't seen any proper institutions.
Like S.H.I.E.L.D., for example.
But he felt the best course of action was to find an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. and have a proper discussion about these events.
"Does S.H.I.E.L.D. even exist in this universe?" Peter Parker scratched his head.
He knew that if anyone from another universe arrived here, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be the first to respond.
Yet now, not only had S.H.I.E.L.D. failed to react, but he hadn't even seen a single agent in a black suit.
"A mere shadow of its former self," Jessica shook her head.
In recent days, she had managed to track down Nick Fury. He was currently in a state occupied by Sentinel robots, carrying out some kind of plan.
As for the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, they had either been absorbed by the U.S. government or shared Jessica's fate—forced into hiding, living in anonymity in this world.
"So, the Avengers..."
Peter Parker didn't even get to finish his sentence before Jessica interrupted him.
"The so-called Avengers disbanded a long time ago. Even the Ultimate Alliance has fractured."
Jessica's words made Peter realize that the situation in this universe was likely far more complicated than in his own.
Not just in terms of personal relationships, but because of the unpredictable, ever-changing conflicts.
It was all quite frustrating.
"Alright, looks like you guys aren't having the best time either," Peter Parker muttered, scratching his head.
Meanwhile, back in Universe 616, Mysterio stood before his teleportation device, feeling a surge of satisfaction.
He had accomplished what many supervillains had failed to do—eliminate Spider-Man.
Although he hadn't killed Spider-Man, he had successfully sent that annoying bug to another universe.
"No, no, no," Mysterio suddenly shook his head.
He didn't just want Spider-Man gone; he wanted to be as admired and celebrated as Spider-Man—perhaps even more so.
But right now, he was still just a supervillain.
A criminal, hunted by everyone.
And it was all Spider-Man's fault.
Spider-Man had reduced him to nothing more than a rat.
But if Spider-Man were dead—if he were truly dead—
Then Mysterio could finally realize all his ambitions.
But what if that guy became popular again in another universe?
The person Mysterio had made a deal with had told him that Spider-Man in their universe was dead.
By sending him over there, wasn't he just giving him another chance to bask in admiration and fame?
The mere thought of Spider-Man enjoying flowers, bright lights, and front-page newspaper coverage in another world filled Mysterio with jealousy.
No, this couldn't happen.
Spider-Man could not be allowed to live.
Mysterio donned his control helmet, activated his illusion system, and commanded his machines to cross into another universe for a dimension-spanning hunt.
As he laid eyes on the New York of another world, Mysterio grinned.
Because he was about to turn this city into his stage—a grand spectacle where he would kill Spider-Man.
Of course, every great theater production required time to set up.
Meanwhile, as time passed, in the Batcave, Bruce was conducting his own tests.
He hadn't told anyone.
He simply took the fear toxin he had created and stepped into a sealed room.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Thomas watched Bruce with concern.
Although he had never heard of fear toxin, he could see the danger in Bruce's expression.
The Red Death remained silent.
The Ravager, however, was smiling.
"It has to be tested," Bruce said indifferently.
He needed to understand his own fears.
Without hesitation, he crushed the fear toxin in his hand.
A cloud of orange-yellow gas began to fill the room.
Bruce didn't flinch—he simply breathed normally.
He could already see the orange-yellow mist seeping into his body through his nostrils.
His eyes turned crimson—the fear toxin was taking effect.
He was about to witness his greatest fear.
Only, it didn't work quite like typical fear toxin.
Rather than a single scene playing before him, it felt as if two worlds had overlapped.
Yet they did not interact with one another.
Fixing his gaze on the darker of the two worlds, he saw a family of three walking into an alleyway.
And he was the one waiting for them in the shadows.
He pulled out a gun.
The man in the expensive coat stood protectively in front of his wife and child. He was saying something, but Bruce couldn't hear him.
Perhaps the negotiation had failed.
He pulled the trigger.
Before he did, the man had tried to rush forward and resist.
But—it was a gun.
The bullet struck the man's chest. The woman lunged forward at once, seemingly trying to buy time for her child to escape.
But—it was a gun.
Bruce could even feel the woman's pearl necklace falling into his hands due to her sudden movement. But he wasn't in control. He pulled the trigger again.
The scattered pearls, the woman collapsing to the ground, the child's panicked scream—all of it snapped him out of the heat of the moment. A chilling fear overtook him.
He turned and fled.
At that moment, Bruce's vision suddenly changed—his perspective had lowered.
His parents now lay beside him, lifeless from the gunshots.
The man still had a little strength left, just enough to weakly call his lover's name.
And a small figure slowly collapsed onto the ground.
His vision pulled back, revealing only that tiny figure lifting his head, his gaze ahead unwavering.
Perhaps, in that very moment, the boy named Bruce Wayne died in Crime Alley.
The one who survived was nothing more than a vengeful specter emerging from the darkness.
And then, another world slowly emerged before Bruce's eyes—completely different from the alley.
This was his Batcave.
He was restrained, forced to watch as kind-hearted Aunt May succumbed under the iron fists of those men.
He was powerless.
He could do nothing but watch as the elderly woman died before him.
Just like in that alleyway.
Every time, he was the only one who survived.
Every time, it was the people closest to him.
Even in death, Aunt May's eyes remained gentle as they looked at Bruce.
Bruce knew this was just fear, but it felt far too real.
His iron will kept him from being swallowed by terror. He simply watched as these nightmares played out before him, again and again.
Yet, from beginning to end, there were no so-called supervillains in his fears.
Only the people he loved.
As the effects of the fear toxin gradually faded, Bruce turned and left without hesitation.
He was now certain that his fear toxin had no flaws.
But this thing was far too dangerous. He could only feel at ease keeping it in his possession.
Returning to his lab, Bruce carefully stored away every last bit of the toxin he had created.
Ensuring that not a single trace remained outside.
"What have you been doing all day?" Jessica pushed open the lab door without warning, eyeing Bruce's now-spotless workbench with suspicion.
Bruce had been locked in his lab for over a day.
He hadn't even eaten.
Jessica and Aunt May were worried.
But they were also afraid that disturbing him would disrupt his research, so they had refrained from interfering.
"Do you need something?"
"Looks like someone from another universe has shown up," Jessica got straight to the point.
Bruce hadn't expected that, in a situation like this, someone would actually come from another planet just to seek out their nemesis.
Then again, if it were him, maybe he would have done the same.
When the two reached the control panel, the screen displayed a towering figure with a fishbowl helmet, overlooking New York City from above.
At first glance, no one would have suspected it was an impostor.
Bruce turned to look at the Batcave. It was obvious—someone quite conspicuous was already gone.
"The moment he saw that thing, he rushed out," Jessica said knowingly. She had tried to stop Peter Parker earlier, but it was clear he wasn't willing to listen.
Jessica could truly sense the presence of the previous Spider-Man in him.
That same passion, that unwavering kindness.
Bruce didn't say another word and simply walked toward his Batmobile.
She watched as the Batmobile drove away.
Jessica shook her head.
Why were the guys she met always like this?
Peter Parker, currently rushing toward New York City, felt a little awkward. He had acted on impulse and ran out without thinking.
Kane Manor wasn't exactly close to the city.
It wasn't as easy as before when he could move freely through New York.
He really should've listened to Jessica and waited for the Bat to return.
But the Bat had been in seclusion for an entire day, and no one knew when he would emerge.
Yet the threat was happening now—there was no way he could just sit back and do nothing.
A loud, powerful engine roar echoed nearby.
The sleek Batmobile drifted stylishly to a stop right in front of Spider-Man.
"Get in." The cockpit door opened, and Bruce simply uttered those words to Peter Parker.
"I knew it!" Spider-Man excitedly jumped into the Batmobile.
"Spider-Man! Why won't you come out?" The giant in the sky was shouting toward New York City.
All he wanted was to see his enemy.
But the one standing before him was clearly the Spider-Man of this world.
Not the Spider-Man he was looking for.
"I am Spider-Man. You should know that. Everyone here does. That's why I'm here."
Miles had just turned in his homework today, and now, this was happening in New York City.
And of all classes, he ended up skipping Spanish.
"So, what do you want to do?" Miles looked up at the floating giant. He wanted to believe it was fake.
But everything around him screamed that this was real.
The guy with the fishbowl helmet merely glanced at Miles before bursting into laughter.
It was obvious—he didn't see Miles as a threat at all.
"If you're willing to take responsibility, then let's have some real fun!"
As he spoke, the giant slowly descended, his form shrinking as he landed.
By the time he touched the ground, he appeared as a normal human figure.
Miles immediately shot out his web, wrapping it around the figure.
"I got you!" he called out, but the moment he pulled, he ended up yanking a statue from the side of the street right into himself.
There was no sign of the fishbowl-headed man.
Before Miles could even try to locate him, multiple identical figures of the same man reappeared all around him.
They surrounded Miles, staring at the young Black Spider.
"Did you really catch me?"
Mysterio was thoroughly amused by the Spider-Man before him.
In another world, he had toyed with that world's Spider-Man like a headless fly.
He hadn't even needed to reveal his true body—he had manipulated everything from the shadows.
But suddenly, he seemed to hear something.
He turned his head and saw an armored vehicle speeding toward him.
He narrowed his eyes.
This world was no different from his own. These damned superheroes just kept coming.
The Mysterios surrounding Miles slowly vanished, and everything around him seemed to return to normal.
Miles sat on the ground, still dizzy.
That many Mysterios at once had been overwhelming.
Peter Parker leaped out of the Batmobile. He was now certain—this was his world's Mysterio.
The familiar tactics made it nearly impossible not to recognize him.
"Hahaha! I knew you wouldn't just hide!"
"Let's play our little game again! Why don't you guess—which one is the real me?"
Mysterio's illusions reappeared.
A dense swarm of identical figures left both Spider-Men momentarily stunned.
They were even starting to hallucinate.
Miles saw his uncle pointing a gun at his parents.
Peter Parker saw all the enemies he had once defeated—now coming back for him.
But none of it affected a certain someone.
Bruce stepped out of the car, completely unfazed, and walked straight toward a specific direction.
No matter what appeared in his path, he ignored it entirely.
Mysterio was in disbelief as he watched Bruce approach him without hesitation.
He instantly pulled out his gun to shoot.
But Bruce was faster.
A Batarang struck his wrist before he could pull the trigger.
Electricity surged through him, instantly paralyzing him.
Yet, the illusions didn't disappear.
Bruce walked up to the now-exposed machine and grabbed it.
"I will find you."
That was the last thing Mysterio heard before everything faded to black.
(End of Chapter)
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