Although they say New York is always noisy, overwhelming crowds and accidents don't appear every single day. On a lucky day, the biggest event of the whole day might be something like finding a lost pet snake (there's no need to wonder how someone manages to lose a pet snake while raising it. This is New York, after all. Countless bizarre things happen here all the time, so losing a pet snake is nothing).

After finding the snake wandering freely in the park and safely returning it to its owner, he shot a web to resume his patrol. As he hangs from a web flying toward a tall building and swings between them, he occasionally swallows an unnamed, surging emotion that rises to his throat. The vitality of the people filling his vision, the busy noises tickling his ears, the smell of car exhaust mixed with the scent of food from the sandwich shop across the street and the coffee from the cafe next door—all these familiar scents blend together. He wishes this peace could last forever, but he knows, of course, that it won't. All he can do is swing between buildings and keep a watchful eye on the people.

I don't think of myself as perfect or a great hero. I don't expect people to recognize my hardships and struggles. Nevertheless, I can't deny the fact that deep in a corner of my heart, there is a greedy desire for someone to recognize and cheer for me. After all, what human being in this world would enjoy being insulted instead of thanked after doing something good?

But as always, society seems to have absolutely no intention of listening to the inner thoughts of the friendly Spider-Man.

...Crumple.

The edge of the newspaper in his hand was slightly crumpled.