23 Diligently Studying Chemistry

"How is it?"
"Did he agree to meet me?"

Peter opened his eyes to these two messages from Harry, sent at four in the morning. As his concern over whether Harry had stayed up all night faded, Peter began to feel a headache coming on, crawling out of bed like a zombie.

Stepping out of his room, his gaze fell on Jason’s bedroom door, and his worry shifted to him. After tending to Jason’s wounds last night, the man had insisted on cooking dinner—Peter couldn't stop him—and he didn't know if the healing had been compromised. He decided to check on Jason first.

But when he knocked, there was no answer. The door was unlocked, and when Peter pushed it open slightly, he saw the room was already empty.

Well, the elusive Waynes.

Fortunately, there was still breakfast in the dining room. Peter ate a piece of toast and bacon, downed two large cups of coffee, and drove his Camaro to Gotham University.

On the way, Peter thought it over and sent a reply to Harry: "Wait for me in the lab today. Alone."

Harry replied with a "Sure" almost instantly.

There was no class during the first period. Peter went straight to the lab’s changing room, put on his suit, and pulled on his mask. The changing room and the lab were connected as a suite, so no one would see Spider-Man appearing at Gotham University—provided Harry followed instructions and waited alone.

Peter trusted that Harry wouldn't gamble with his own life.

Harry was pacing anxiously in the lab, rolling the cube key left by his father between his hands like a worry stone. One moment he was facing the wall, filled with anxiety; the next, he turned around to find the red-and-blue hero had appeared out of thin air in the previously empty lab.

Harry had heard the legends of Gotham's vigilantes vanishing, but experiencing an appearance like this was a first. He was startled, but immediately felt a surge of ecstasy. "You actually came!"

Peter watched Harry’s blurred silhouette through his black lenses. Without the distraction of his appearance, he could clearly smell the scent of decay on the young man.

A life was withering away.

"What do you want from me?" Peter’s voice was distorted by the modulator.

Harry looked at Spider-Man, breathing excitedly, and suddenly began to undress.

Peter stepped back hurriedly. "Hey!"

With Tim as a precedent, Peter couldn't help but wonder if Harry was a fanatical Spider-Man fan who had lured him here just to…!

This suspicion vanished as soon as Harry showed him the marks caused by his genetic disease. Pale skin was bruised in patches, scattered with festering sores surrounded by hardened, calloused edges. It wasn't hard to imagine the agony the young man endured every day.

"I’m dying," Harry said, his voice trembling. "Please, I beg you, save me."

"I… I wish I could, Mr. Osborn," Peter said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "But I’m not a doctor, and I don’t know magic…"

"I don't need you to give up anything, just a little blood." Harry caught the hesitation in the Spider-Man's tone. He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, hiding the gruesome wounds, which only made him look more fragile. "I discovered research Oscorp once conducted on spiders. Those spiders were stronger, more agile, and possessed inherent regenerative abilities… that’s why I thought of you, Spider-Man. They might be the source of your power. But those spiders were all destroyed. Maybe, just maybe, you have their DNA!"

Peter realized Harry was likely correct. He had encountered a Spider-Man from another world, and the trajectory of these events heavily overlapped with what that version of Peter had experienced.

That Spider-Man hadn't given his blood to his Harry because that spider DNA could only bond with the Parker bloodline; Harry might turn into a mindless monster because of it.

But having seen Harry’s wretched state, how could he just stand by and watch?

"I’ll help you… find another way," Peter said with difficulty, even though he had no clue what that would be. "The effect my blood would have on you might be far more terrifying than death—it could turn you into a mindless monster!"

Harry froze. A moment later, he said in a low voice, "I know what you're worried about. You're afraid that if I turn into a monster, I’ll cause more harm." He lowered his eyes and gave a small, dry laugh. "I know my life isn't important."

Before Peter could counter with "That’s not true," Harry continued, "If I turn into a monster, please, kill me."

Peter’s lips trembled.

This should have been a request he could never agree to. Even with the most heinous criminals, Peter would never take their lives, preferring to let them face justice—let alone a childhood friend.

But in Harry’s condition, Peter couldn't bring himself to refuse, either.

After leaving the lab, Peter was enveloped in a gloomy mood. Even though he was almost late for class, he couldn't lift his spirits and trudged forward slowly.

The light was suddenly blocked, and Peter nearly collided with the person standing in his way. He stopped abruptly and looked up.

Jason?

"Why are you here?" Peter tried to pull himself together.

"Nothing, just came to check on you." Jason sized him up. "Getting bullied at school? You look so listless."

Jason, of course, hadn't come on a whim as he claimed. In fact, he had been tailing Peter since morning. After resting last night, Jason couldn't stop thinking about how suspicious Peter’s behavior had been. He had even asked Damian and Tim if high school first-aid classes taught suturing. Damian had sent a voice message full of impatient "Tts," but still told him, "Of course not." Tim had also replied that suturing was too bloody and dangerous for high schoolers, and that standard first-aid focused on CPR and AED usage.

So, Jason decided to investigate a little.

But Peter had come to school normally and gone straight to the lab. Jason knew Peter had joined the genetics research group. That was normal.

It was just that Peter had spent some time in the lab, and when he came out, he was dejected and clearly in a foul mood. The young man habitually hunched his shoulders as he walked, his head hung low, brow furrowed, eyes fixed on his toes instead of looking around.

Jason curled his lips, thinking: *Little bookworm.*

By the time he realized it, he was already standing in front of Peter.

"No, I’m not being bullied." Peter smiled at him. "Just an experiment result that won't come out. Do you have nothing to do right now? Want to come to class with me?"

Jason wanted to say he was busy and had no time for some nonsense class, but his mouth agreed faster than his brain. Before he knew it, he was sitting in the lecture hall, right next to Peter.

Peter had chosen a front-row seat—the exact distance where a teacher could strike a student with a piece of chalk for sleeping.

It was an introductory chemistry course. The major Peter chose was broad, covering biology, chemistry, materials, and physics, none of which were difficult for him. Jason, having spent time in the criminal underworld, had often crafted his own weapons, so he understood a bit. After listening for a while, he even found himself intrigued.

Peter, however, was restless today. He couldn't seem to balance a chemical equation. Noticing out of the corner of his eye that Jason was listening intently, Peter gently pushed his notebook toward him.

Jason looked down and saw a big question mark drawn next to the equation, along with a small, crying chibi version of a boy.

So cute.

But cute or not, Jason didn't know how to solve it either.

He memorized the equation and calmly told Peter he was going to the restroom and would solve it when he got back. He strode out of the lecture hall and pulled out his phone, typing the equation into the Bat-family group chat.

"Urgent. Who knows how to balance this equation?"

Jason’s sudden appearance caused a stir. Even Cassandra couldn't help but send a question mark emoji. After so long, Jason was appearing in the group just to ask for help with a chemistry equation?

"Who is Todd planning to poison?" Damian, who was traveling with Bruce, replied instantly.

"You." Jason’s hand moved faster than his brain; he regretted it the moment he hit send. Damian had several PhDs; he definitely knew how to balance it!

To his surprise, Damian quickly sent back a perfectly balanced equation.

Jason was puzzled and quickly calculated it with the little chemistry knowledge he had—it was definitely wrong.

Ignoring the teasing from others, Jason tagged the two college students in the family, Tim and Stephanie. But Tim was a business major, and Stephanie, influenced by her father, was into criminal investigation; both said they couldn't help.

"Why didn't you ask me?" Dick’s message popped up.

"You know it?" Jason was surprised.

"I don't."

Jason sent a "gunshot" emoji.

"I could have asked Flash for you," Dick teased, "but given your impolite attitude..."

"Great brother," Jason immediately private-messaged Dick to pester him. "Help me, and I won't take the wheels off your motorcycle."

Dick replied with three dots.

The good-natured older brother didn't hold a grudge. The chemistry major Flash quickly provided the answer. Jason silently memorized the equation, walked back into the lecture hall with his head held high, and scribbled it into Peter’s notebook.

Sure enough, he was rewarded with Peter’s admiring gaze: "Jason, you’re a genius!"

The feeling was excellent.

Before they knew it, Jason had spent nearly the whole day at school with Peter. At noon, Peter treated him to a delicious steak in the university cafeteria. In the afternoon, they stayed in the library together; Peter did his homework, and Jason, riding the momentum from the morning lecture, finished half of his *University Chemistry* textbook.

He couldn't say he remembered everything, but Jason had gained some new insights for dealing with enemies.

By dusk, both were feeling uneasy.

They were thinking the same thing: *At this rate, isn't it only natural that we go back to Wayne Manor together?*

*But night patrol is coming up. How do I find a reasonable excuse to slip away?*

If anyone had walked by then, they might have heard the buzzing sound of their brains working at high speed.