Symbiotic Agent

Dr. Connors was finally taken away. As he left, his yellow eyes locked onto Holm, and he shouted incessantly, begging Holm to kill him.

When the helicopter was approaching, Dr. Connors tried to jump off the building, but Holm broke his legs, rendering him immobile.

This drastic turn of events left Spider-Woman, who had been observing the entire incident, thoroughly confused. She couldn't understand what Holm had said to Dr. Connors that made him so desperate to die.

When she questioned Holm about it, he didn't hide anything. Helping her to the stairs, he explained everything briefly.

After hearing his explanation, Gwen gave a bitter smile and remarked, "You can only scare him for a while."

Holm paused, slightly stunned by her response. Then, with a serious tone, he asked, "What makes you think I was just scaring him?"

"How can something like that be true? He'll probably be locked up in a prison for special criminals. I've encountered similar cases before," Gwen replied with an air of experience.

Holm listened quietly, then said, "But what I told him is the truth."

"Huh?" Gwen's eyes widened under her mask.

"It's true," Holm reiterated with a nod.

Gwen fell silent. Holm's words left her feeling conflicted. On one hand, she felt a sense of relief and satisfaction knowing that a man who had killed so many would face a fate worse than death. Yet, on the other hand, a strange, inexplicable unease stirred within her.

Before her thoughts could spiral further, Holm gently helped her sit on the steps, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Your wound looks serious. It needs immediate treatment," Holm said, pulling out a small bottle of hemostatic agent and a roll of bandages.

Gwen shifted her focus to her shoulder. Blood seeped through her costume, dyeing the spider silk around the wound a deep crimson.

She had planned to handle the injury herself at home, but seeing the condition of her wound—and Holm already prepared to treat it—she said nothing and simply nodded, gritting her teeth.

This was the second time Holm had treated her injuries. Though they hadn't exchanged many words during these instances, a strange, unspoken understanding seemed to have formed between them.

With a sharp rip, Holm tore away the blood-soaked spider silk. Gwen clenched her teeth, letting out a muffled groan. For the first time, she wished her spider silk wasn't so adhesive.

Beneath the torn fabric lay several gruesome wounds slashing diagonally from her shoulder to the upper chest. The injuries were caused by Dr. Connors' sharp claws. Fortunately, they hadn't reached any private areas, sparing both Holm and Gwen additional embarrassment.

"Bear with it; I need to disinfect the wound," Holm warned as he began the process.

Dr. Connors' claws were razor-sharp, and the cuts were deep. Any deeper, and one of them could have fractured her collarbone.

As Holm applied the hemostatic agent, Gwen's body trembled involuntarily from the sharp pain. Observing the severity of her injuries and her pained expression, Holm frowned thoughtfully.

After a moment of careful inspection, Holm realized the damage was worse than he had initially assumed. Stopping the bleeding and bandaging the wound would only provide temporary relief—the cuts needed proper suturing.

Suddenly, he thought of Venom's healing abilities. Slowing his movements, he began silently communicating with Venom.

"Heal someone else? I haven't tried that before—I've only healed you," Venom mused in Holm's mind.

"But we can try. I kind of like her."

Encouraged by Venom's response, Holm decided to attempt it.

Meanwhile, Gwen, unaware of Holm's internal dialogue, noticed his movements had slowed, and his eyes appeared dazed.

Unsure of what was happening, Gwen followed his gaze. When she realized where he was looking, she suddenly grew self-conscious. The wounds, located near her chest, made her acutely aware of the situation. Overcome with embarrassment, she instinctively sat up, her movements abrupt.

"Hiss!" The sudden motion pulled at her injuries, causing fresh blood to seep through the gauze.

Holm snapped out of his thoughts and immediately sprayed more hemostatic agent on the wound, applying firm pressure with fresh gauze.

"It seems the hemostatic agent alone isn't enough. We need to secure it properly with gauze," Holm said, focusing intently on the task at hand.

Watching Holm's serious expression, Gwen regretted her earlier reaction. Clearly, he was only trying to help. Softly, she whispered, "Thank you."

"Huh? You're welcome," Holm replied distractedly, still contemplating how to explain his plan.

For a moment, the air grew quiet. Holm, with one hand pressing on Gwen's shoulder, sat opposite her. The morning sun began peeking through the clouds, illuminating the scene with gentle rays.

A cool breeze drifted past, carrying a faintly familiar scent mixed with the metallic tang of blood. Suddenly, Holm remembered something—a name that Spider-Woman had lost her composure over during their earlier battle. It clicked.

The scent was unmistakable. He had encountered it before: in the breeze from a passing taxi, in the quiet aisles of a convenience store, and in a brief, whispered "thank you" exchanged in an underground passage.

It hit him all at once: Gwen Stacy—the girl who had tried to buy alcohol before reaching the legal age—was Spider-Woman.

She was the one who had taken Peter Parker's place as the Spider-Man of this world.

In mere moments, Holm's thoughts connected a thousand dots. The realization brought with it a mix of surprise and inevitability. It all made sense now.

Though his vision hadn't changed, Holm suddenly felt as if he could see Gwen's familiar blue eyes blinking back at him from beneath her mask.

"Gwen," Holm said softly, "why don't you take off your mask and breathe in some fresh air?"

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