At the Amusement Park, Hinata Was Having a Great Time.

She had never been a particularly bright child, and her family's signature technique, the Gentle Fist, was something she struggled to master—she couldn't even beat her younger sister, who was five years her junior.

Fortunately, although the world wasn't peaceful, she was born in the peaceful Dragon Nation. Whether it was ninjutsu, taijutsu, or her Byakugan bloodline limit, practicing them wasn't a necessity.

In modern warfare, battles were more about technology. Individual combat skills weren't useless, but they weren't crucial either. Even the best Gentle Fist couldn't stop a guided missile.

However, Hinata's father, Hiashi, didn't see it that way. He was a comrade of Old Su, though Su Ye wasn't clear on where they served or who they fought against.

Hiashi was deeply committed to the legacy of strength and placed high demands on Hinata as his eldest daughter, forcing her to train in taijutsu and ninjutsu daily.

As a result, Hinata barely had time to finish her homework, let alone go out and play.

Everyone knew how intense the academic pressure in Dragon Nation was.

Now that she had the chance to visit the amusement park—and with her favorite Brother Ye—Hinata was as happy as a little chick, giggling nonstop along the way.

Her gaze toward Su Ye was full of admiration and shy affection, making his heart flutter a little.

However, after a fun-filled morning, Hinata suddenly made a request in the afternoon.

"Brother Ye, let's skip playing this afternoon. Can you take me to train instead?"

This request surprised Su Ye. A 13-year-old girl with such self-discipline? Even without her father's supervision, she only allowed herself half a day of fun before wanting to spend the other half training.

It was like an elementary school kid choosing homework over video games.

Since Hinata asked, Su Ye naturally couldn't refuse.

Driving his newly acquired used Chevrolet Camaro, Su Ye took Hinata to the countryside to find a suitable spot for training.

Hinata's Gentle Fist was a type of taijutsu, similar to the Bone Method Su Ye had studied. It focused on close-range attacks targeting the body's pressure points and didn't require much space for practice.

But in the city, with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s omnipresent surveillance and limited indoor facilities, training in the wilderness was the best option.

The Gentle Fist technique, known as Eight Trigrams Palm, allowed for sequential strikes: two palms, four palms, eight palms, sixteen palms, thirty-two palms, and even sixty-four palms.

Following this progression, the numbers would eventually become too long to write out.

However, that was still far off for Hinata—she was currently practicing up to thirty-two palms, with a long way to go.

Hinata was well aware of her limitations, but despite her young age, she practiced diligently.

Su Ye couldn't offer much guidance on the Gentle Fist itself, but he could serve as an effective sparring partner. His role was to provide opportunities for Hinata to practice her moves while ensuring she balanced her training with adequate rest.

"That's enough for now. Take a break."

"No, I want to keep practicing! Let's go again!"

"Take a break. You're exhausted, and you're sweating all over."

"No, I still need to…"

The entire afternoon was fulfilling for Hinata. Training with Brother Ye made her incredibly happy. As she had imagined, he was as strong as ever—while she was utterly exhausted, he barely broke a sweat.

Indeed, Su Ye barely sweated during their practice. With his Spider-Man-enhanced physique, this level of exercise was a walk in the park.

That evening, Su Ye dropped Hinata back at school. Under Neji's piercing, almost predatory glare, Su Ye smiled and walked away. After slipping into a dark alley, he used transformation jutsu to change his appearance and headed for Times Square.

Times Square, a landmark of New York City, sat in the heart of bustling Manhattan. For many, calling it the "center of the universe" wasn't an exaggeration.

Day or night, Times Square was always packed with crowds and brimming with energy.

But tonight, under Manhattan's dazzling skyline, an uninvited guest arrived.

It was a man in a black hoodie, his movements awkward and peculiar. He made his way to the center of Times Square, crouched down, and reached for the cables beneath the ground.

In a place like Times Square, police were always on patrol. Seeing someone so blatantly tampering with the cables—no, almost outright stealing them—was shocking.

Naturally, the officers moved to stop the cable thief. Then they witnessed something extraordinary.

A bus came driving through, but the cable thief, using some kind of unknown power, lifted it effortlessly. The bus flipped midair and crashed heavily onto the ground on the other side.

That one move left countless passengers on the bus dead or injured.

Soon after, a dozen police cars rushed in as if prepped in advance, surrounding the man. Some officers drew their guns, others shouted commands, while a journalist began filming. The footage was broadcast live on the giant screens nearby.

It wasn't just one screen—all the functioning screens along the street displayed the same footage.

Tourists and pedestrians gathered behind the police, watching from a distance, eager to witness the spectacle.

Su Ye, with a disguised face, mingled with the crowd and let out a quiet sigh.

"That was fast. The bus barely crashed, and here come a dozen police cars, plus a journalist broadcasting live. So, what is this? A large-scale 3D projection show? Scripted with rehearsed lines? The effects are pretty realistic, though."

Su Ye didn't bother to lower his voice, and many people around him overheard.

Several quick-witted, overly imaginative individuals immediately latched onto Su Ye's train of thought, realizing there might be something fishy about the scene.

Why did the police arrive so quickly, and in such numbers? Why was there conveniently a camera recording? And who had the power to switch all the nearby screens to that footage?

These obvious inconsistencies—how did we miss them earlier?

Better late than never, especially since most people were still clueless.

Eager to showcase their sharp minds, they quickly shared their analysis with those around them. Word spread like wildfire.

Soon, everyone around knew about the "large-scale fashion light show" featuring magical 3D holographic projections. They didn't want to miss out—watch now or wait three years for the next chance.

In no time, not only the tourists already in Times Square but also those nearby, including shop staff, flocked to see the spectacle.

Watching a 2D broadcast on a big screen was dull. A 3D show like this had to be experienced live for the full thrill.

Thus, as the newly resurrected and electrified Max Dillon—now a glowing blue human lightbulb—watched close-up shots of himself on the surrounding screens, he was overwhelmed with emotion.

All of Times Square was packed with people, layer upon layer.

"A massive fashion and light 3D holographic projection show is happening at Times Square! Dozens of police cars, hundreds of officers participating, with stunning special effects and explosive scenes!"

Many on-site immediately pulled out their phones to stream live, and similar captions, along with footage, quickly flooded the internet, sparking nationwide discussion.

"Wish I could see this live, but I'm all the way out west—too far!"

"I'm local! Wonder if I can still make it in time if I head over now!"

"If you're coming, hurry up! No front-row spots left. By the way, we've got Coke, Sprite, coffee, and tea for sale—what'll it be, folks?"

"So that's tonight's main star? That glowing blue makeup must've cost a fortune!"

"But is this main character supposed to be a villain? I mean, look at all those cops and police cars. Are we about to see a showdown, with the villain getting gunned down in the end?"

"What if I told you I'm rooting for the villain? Would you believe me?"

Amidst the online and live audience chatter, the police finally made their move.

The first move: tear gas—standard procedure for handling mobs, protestors, and dangerous criminals.

A dozen canisters were thrown at Max Dillon's feet, releasing a pungent, stinging gas that quickly engulfed him.

Max, who was admiring his lightbulb-like face on the nearby screens, was a nearly 40-year-old corporate drone. The thrill of being on TV and in the spotlight for the first time mesmerized him, even though his face was now unrecognizable.

Unfortunately, that euphoric moment was cut short by the tear gas canisters.

Shocked and enraged, Max instinctively swung his arm. With a thunderous boom, a massive energy wave exploded outward, not only blasting the gas canisters away but also sending a dozen police cars flying.

The officers scrambled to retreat, but many couldn't avoid being crushed by the airborne vehicles.

Without Spider-Man there to save the day, the scene quickly turned gruesome.

"This…"

After a brief silence, the surrounding crowd erupted into wild cheers and shouts.

"Awesome!"

"Now this is Hollywood-level special effects!"

"Holy smokes! This puts all those imitators to shame—now they know what real special effects look like!"

"This is so cool!"

"Oh my God!"

Amid the crowd, some questioned whether this was a special effects show or a real police shootout. But seeing so many people cheer blindly, they reluctantly joined in, not wanting to appear foolish.

In an avalanche, no snowflake wants to stay behind and be buried by the others.

After using transformation and substitution jutsu to stir up the crowd by switching places a few times, Su Ye quietly withdrew to a corner to watch the show.

The police were utterly baffled by the crowd's mindless cheers but had neither the time nor energy to explain.

They could easily take down an unarmed man; facing this vicious, destructive, and still visibly recognizable criminal was an entirely different beast.

Without waiting for orders, dozens of officers opened fire simultaneously—not just with handguns but also submachine guns. Bullets rained down on Max Dillon, while snipers stationed on distant rooftops readied themselves to join the fray.

Even now, Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen.