Peter seemed completely oblivious to the others staring at him like he was an idiot. He waved his hands excitedly, vividly describing the ghost he'd seen.
"You guys wouldn't believe it! Its skin was all white and waterlogged, no face, just tons of long, stringy hair! And it crawled on the ground super fast, just like Sadako!"
Wanda glanced back at the dilapidated building behind them, nodding thoughtfully. "You know, I agree. This place definitely feels haunted. So, forget contacting Olsen. Let's just go home."
Pietro nodded firmly in agreement, and Saiki, naturally, was more than eager to be back in the comfort of his own house.
"No way!" Peter objected. "Like Kusuo said earlier, those other people on the bus got scammed too! What if Olsen was also scammed and brought here? What if this place is haunted and he runs into danger?"
"Wasn't this supposed to be his family's resort?" Pietro countered skeptically. "What if he's actually part of the scam group?"
That shut Peter up. He stammered for a moment, unable to form a coherent argument, then gave up trying. "Whatever! The point is, I'm not leaving until I'm sure Olsen isn't here. And if it turns out he did scam us, I swear I'll break his jaw!"
His sense of justice overflowing, Peter was resolute. He proceeded to drag the three reluctant companions on a search around the sprawling, desolate grounds. They searched until nearly evening but found no trace of Olsen. Defeated for the moment, they headed into the "hotel."
Apparently, the other group, despite their earlier uproar, had either been convinced or resigned themselves to the situation, as they had already taken their luggage inside.
Saiki's group explored the first floor. It was crumbling, reeked of mold, and showed no signs of occupancy. The reception desk was deserted. They had no choice but to try the second floor.
There, they found a large common lounge area where the other group had gathered.
Peter pushed open the half-closed door and poked his head inside. "Hello? Every—"
SLAM!
The door was violently slammed shut, narrowly missing his face. Peter touched his cheek, heart pounding from the near miss. Jeez, so young, why such a violent temper?!
He knocked politely. "Hello?" No response. Pietro tapped Peter's shoulder, gesturing for him to step aside.
Compared to Peter, Pietro's approach was considerably more forceful. He delivered a flying kick straight to the door.
BANG!
The flimsy door flew off its hinges under the impact and crashed against the far wall. Everyone inside stared at Pietro, their faces masks of terror.
Before Pietro could even demand what was going on, Ryan leaped up from the sofa, looking furious, and immediately confronted the person behind Pietro.
"I knew it was you!" Ryan snarled, clearly ready for a fight.
Pietro scoffed, squaring up. "What? You wanna fight me?"
But Ryan completely ignored him, reaching past Pietro to grab Peter.
Pietro: "???"
Peter: "???"
Saiki, arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with detached amusement, telepathically enjoying the chaos.
"Careful, Peter," Saiki warned aloud, his voice dripping with faux concern. "He's clearly looking for trouble."
Peter, dangling helplessly in Ryan's grip, twisted his head back and yelled, "If you know he's looking for trouble, then get over here and help! Stop standing there enjoying the show!"
Saiki instantly switched into full drama queen mode, feigning terror, eyes wide and unfocused as he averted his gaze. "He looks so fierce! I'm scared!"
"Get lost, you damn drama queen!" Peter yelled, struggling futilely. Should have brought Hulk, he thought desperately. One punch per customer.
Realizing his so-called friends were only going to watch, Peter focused, using his core strength. With a sudden burst of agility, he swung his legs up, clamped them around Ryan's head in a reverse scissor lock, and twisted, bringing them both crashing to the floor.
"Agh! Get off me!" Ryan choked out, struggling for breath. Before Ryan could retaliate, Peter scrambled to his feet and drove his knee sharply into the man's jaw. Ryan grunted, nearly biting off his own tongue. As Ryan staggered, disoriented, Peter grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face hard into the polished floorboards.
Thud.
Ryan groaned twice, then his body went limp, collapsing face-down on the floor, unconscious. Blood began to pool from a gash on his forehead. Peter looked down at the result, disgusted, and flicked his hands as if shaking off something dirty.
He looked up, scanning the stunned faces of the others in the room. "Okay," he demanded, his voice sharp. "Who slammed the door just now?"
A collective gasp went through the room. All eyes immediately swiveled towards the rapping Black man, who was attempting to shrink into the corner. Despite his size, the man apparently possessed zero courage; under Peter's fierce glare, he visibly trembled and stammered out an explanation, looking terrified.
"N-no! It wasn't— I mean, I thought it was the killer! So I—"
At the mention of the word "killer," Peter noticed, an almost imperceptible shift occurred. Everyone's expression darkened. Some even looked directly at him with expressions of fear and suspicion. Confused, Peter glanced back at Saiki, only to find him frowning as well.
"Something's not right here," Saiki stated quietly.
"What's not right?" Peter asked, feeling the atmosphere suddenly grow heavy and tense. He looked down at his own hands, still faintly smeared with Ryan's blood, and the realization hit him like a physical blow. Oh god, I'm supposed to be a superhero.
Panic surged. "Oh no!" he gasped aloud. "I just totally beat up a normal person! Oh god, please, please don't let anyone figure out I'm Spider-Man! If the Avengers hear about this, that massive application essay I spent a whole week writing will be completely wasted!"
Pietro rolled his eyes dramatically. "...Nobody knew before, genius. But now that you've yelled it out for everyone to hear, they probably do."
Peter, desperate to salvage his heroic image, plastered on what he hoped was a friendly, reassuring smile. "Hi," he began cheerfully, casually delivering a few inconspicuous kicks to Ryan's unconscious form as he walked past him. "That whole thing was just a misunderstanding. I'm actually—"
He didn't get to finish. The fashionable woman from the bus suddenly clutched her head and let out a piercing, hysterical scream.
"AAAHHH!!! I can't take it anymore! I have to get out of here! Let me go! Get away from me, you murderers!"
She scrambled hysterically towards the exit, instinctively grabbing her Chanel bag. But before she could reach the doorway, her path was blocked by a statuesque woman with an impressive figure entering from the hallway.
"Get out of my way!" the fashionable woman shrieked, tears streaking her meticulously applied makeup. The statuesque woman completely ignored her, forcibly shoved her back into the lounge, and firmly shut the door behind her.
"Shut up," the statuesque woman commanded coldly, brandishing a wicked-looking knife she produced from somewhere. She waved it threateningly near the hysterical woman's face. "One more word, and I'll slash your pretty face." The fashionable woman instantly fell silent, trembling.
Having effectively dealt with the "pig teammate," the statuesque woman—Joan, apparently—finally addressed the rest of the room, her expression grim. "There's trouble. Wright went to the bathroom a long time ago. He's not responding, no matter how much I knock."
The color drained from the other passengers' faces. The Black man looked utterly despairing. "Wright's dead too? Oh god, maybe I'm next! No! I don't want to die!"
The 'life winner' shot him a glare, then tried to project calm. "We haven't seen anything yet. Let's not jump to conclusions. Joan, lead the way. Take us to him."
(Wait a second,) Saiki thought dryly, (why did Joan lock the door behind her then?)
Joan nodded curtly and started towards the hallway. As she passed Ryan's unconscious form, she gave him a sharp kick. Miraculously, Ryan, despite the beating he'd just taken, instantly revived, groaning as he wiped blood from his face and scrambled to follow the others. The fashionable woman and the Black man, clearly terrified at the prospect of being left alone with Saiki's group (who were now apparently suspected murderers), nervously trailed behind the main group after a moment's hesitation.
Peter watched them all disappear down the hall, utterly bewildered. He turned to his companions.
"So... what do we do now?"
Saiki Kusuo spoke first, his answer immediate and unsurprising.
"Let's go home."
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