Chapter 18

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Peter fell back into the routine of the courier easily, strangely enough it was less stressful than when he lived with May, despite the fact there were more guns involved.

After Peter went on jobs he only got better, he was good at learning from mistakes and ensuring they never happened again.

He got better at running through the streets on the ground instead of swinging or resorting to rooftop chaises. He'd avoid long paths keeping more of a zigzag pattern, and when he found that he couldn't do that he'd resort to running though largely populated areas.

Avoiding a bullet was his top priority in those situations. He didn't see the Detective or Lieutenant much after the first encounter, he was mostly chased by patrol cops, none of them were nearly as skilled at the Detective so he usually shook them within minutes. Especially now that he'd come to know the streets a lot better.

Every back alley, drainage tunnels, and abandoned buildings were added to his mental map.

He was quick, efficient, and always on time. He didn't ask questions or give answers, he followed the coordinates texted to him.

He wore his mask more, even found a pair of dark tinted wrap around goggles to cover his eyes as he started getting higher priority jobs, those usually meant he'd be dealing with people who had actual influence in the crime world, that made them more dangerous. Last thing he needed was for those kind of people getting familiar with his face, he wasn't going to take anymore chances.

Soon his assigned territory explained, but he remained in Brooklyn.

John eventually traded Peter's flip phone for what looked like a pager, it felt like he was reverting in technology, but Peter didn't care, he had a job to do and he'd do it to the best of his human abilities. He learned not to use his spider abilities last time, he almost got an officer killed.

Peter lost track of the days, but he always knew what time it was. He hardly went back to John's apartment during that time since the pager would give him exact addresses, so there was no need for the cipher.

The underground world of crime made New York feel like an entirely different city and as what Peter suspected were months passed, the feeling of guilt seemed to fade, in fact everything faded, there was no misery, no sadness, not even anger. There was only the next job, school, and doing whatever it took to not get caught.

With the lack of Spider-man on the streets the crime rate took a sharp rise, strangely enough that only seemed to help Peter, well he was more Nor now, no one had called him Peter since the Homecoming dance.

With the cops focused on other crimes there weren't nearly as many on the lookout for gang couriers.

Peter currently found himself sitting in a hideout, it was an abandoned train station that hadn't been used since the 30s. It was mostly used by the homeless, kids to be more accurate, anywhere ranging from young teens to mid twenties.

The current area he was in was mostly occupied by the older of the demographic, the younger kids probably found the atmosphere too frightening, plus they weren't exactly welcomed by the older crowd. Especially since this particular setup was more similar to a bar if anything.

All sorts of alcohol for the teens if they had the money, no ID required, but Peter didn't care. He was fine with a bottle of soda, plus he couldn't afford to find out what alcohol did to his enhanced senses. He was waiting for his next job, there was always one that was at midnight, he just had to wait here till then. There was not many other places he could be, not in public that is.

This place was safe enough, it beat sitting alone in some run down building, and it was interesting to hear the conversations between the others in the bar.

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