I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 53: Spider Gear! (Patreon)

First, she needed a suit.

Anyone planning to be a superhero needed an outfit that concealed their identity, didn't they? It had to be safe, provide good protection, and preferably breathe well, too.

Gwen seized her notebook and sketched several possibilities. After studying and discarding them one by one, she finally settled on a hooded design, white on top and black below.

“Now for the material... Maybe I could use...”

She spent the entire afternoon happily designing not just her suit, but also a pair of web-shooters. She was a spider, after all. Of course she had to be able to shoot webs!

Before she realized it, school was out. In the United States, classes generally ended sometime between three and four, giving students time for extracurricular activities. That didn't make the academic pressure any lighter, since college admissions still depended on grades.

Peter and Harley had gone straight to the grocery store after school and then returned to the apartment. With so few people working on the school newspaper, they could always take care of any unfinished business at home.

“How are you feeling, Gwen?” Peter asked.

“Uh, I'm fine now.”

“Good. You didn't come back this afternoon, so I was worried something had happened.”

“Gwen, you wouldn't believe it. Watermelon prices have gone up again!” Harley complained, carrying the shopping bags behind him.

Ever since she'd started accompanying Peter on his grocery runs, Harley had begun noticing prices. In the past, she'd bought whatever she liked without a second thought. She might be wealthy, but hunting for discounts and comparing ingredients with Peter was surprisingly fun. It almost felt like the two of them were building a life together.

“And I bet this awful watermelon will be like gelatin inside again!” She set it on the table.

“Capitalism, my friend,” Peter said. “They stockpile unripe fruit with a load of preservatives, then ripen it when prices rise and sell it off. That's why I told you not to buy one.”

“My luck can't be that terrible every time. Surely I can't keep getting those preservative-filled watermelons. Maybe next time we should go to one of those expensive supermarkets farther away. We do have a car, don't we?”

“Maybe on the weekend. Treating ourselves to a good meal then is fair enough. But give me a break on weekdays. Cooking dinner for this many people on my own is already a headache.”

The cooking itself was manageable. Preparing everything beforehand and cleaning up afterward were the real nuisances. Peter had enough to keep him busy already.

Mary Jane had her social commitments, and now she had band practice after school as well.

“Oh, Gwen, Mary Jane said that if you're feeling better this afternoon, you should try to make it to rehearsal.”

“Uh... I might have something else to do,” Gwen admitted awkwardly. “Actually, Peter, could I use your workbench?”

“Of course. Just be careful. Some of the things in there are dangerous.”

“I'm not an idiot.”

“Even good swimmers can drown.”

Gwen headed to Peter's room, eager to develop her suit material and build a web-shooter.

Peter understood exactly what she was doing. So Gwen was going to become a superhero after all. He could only hope things went well for her.

And him?

Tying on his apron, Peter looked down at the cabbage in his hands.

He just hoped he could lead a normal life someday.

...

Gwen was broke.

George actually gave her a generous allowance, and he'd increased it because she was living away from home. Unfortunately, she'd spent almost all of it on musical instruments. The little that remained had vanished when she bought supplies for her new project.

At least she didn't have to pay for meals.

“You seem pretty energetic, Gwen. Is it that you don't like our band?” Mary Jane asked over dinner.

“No, no. It's just...”

“Come on, Mary Jane. Gwen's only just recovered,” Harley interjected on her behalf.

“Fine. I hope you'll be at rehearsal on time tomorrow. Otherwise, we'll forget we even have a drummer.”

“I know...”

Gwen gave in. The materials she'd ordered wouldn't arrive immediately anyway, and she still hadn't perfected the web-shooter.

Designing the launcher wasn't the difficult part. The webbing itself was another story.

She needed something tough and highly elastic that would adhere instantly when fired. Ideally, it would also dissolve after a certain period, or it would be an environmental nightmare.

Materials research was basically a gacha game. At best, you could narrow the available pool to a limited selection, but there was no pity system. If you didn't get the result you wanted, you were out of luck.

Peter decided to give her a little help.

“Still making something, Gwen?” he asked, glancing at her work. “Toluene, methanol, carbon tetrachloride... Not bad. Trying to produce a nylon-like material?”

Even after dinner, Gwen was still planted at his workbench.

“Something like that. I want to make an outfit suitable for physical activity. You know, for when we perform onstage. Wouldn't it be nice to wear costumes we'd made ourselves?”

“Oh, I see. That reminds me. I once had an idea for a prank swimsuit that dissolved in water. You know the sort of joke I'm talking about? I made something similar. You could use it as a reference if you'd like.”

Peter brought the formula up on his computer. “As a fabric, it's actually pretty good, except that it can't get wet. You might be able to adjust the formula, though. Seriously, Gwen, it's just a stage costume. Do you really need to develop the material from scratch?”

“Uh... Yes. I do! Thank you, Peter.”

Gwen stared at the screen. Wasn't this practically the web material she'd been looking for?

She would still need to adjust some of the proportions and perhaps add a few substances to make the result more like spider silk. Even so, Peter had handed her an excellent starting point and spared her an enormous amount of research.

In her excitement, she didn't stop to wonder how he'd come up with such an unusual formula.

And Peter had been careful. He hadn't shown her his finished spider-silk formula, only an experimental version. He'd developed the complete recipe himself using the rewards he'd collected from lottery draws over several years. Handing it to Gwen outright would have been far too suspicious.

Besides, a few small changes would give her webs their own distinctive properties. It was better to let her make something that was genuinely hers.

“Anyway, I've got something else to take care of,” Peter said. “Turn off the lights when you're finished. You don't have to lock the door.”

Gwen readily agreed, and Peter went downstairs to see Quentina.