Peter truly couldn't tell the difference between these suits. While he could distinguish between single-breasted and double-breasted jackets, or European, British, and American cuts, he generally couldn't see any difference in how they looked once he put them on.
However, that didn't stop him from donning a suit and performing a quick "Bully Dance" in front of the full-length mirror.
Felicia sat to the side, watching him with a long sigh.
"What exactly are you doing?"
"Hmm? Oh, I'm just testing the new clothes to see if they fit well enough for movement."
Is that your excuse for dancing here? Fine, I suppose that wasn't exactly dancing, but it was certainly ridiculous. Felicia remained silent for a moment before watching Peter return to a normal stance in front of the mirror. He turned to her and asked, "What do you think? I think it's alright."
"You say every single outfit is 'alright.'"
Peter looked quite innocent as he expressed that he truly did find every suit acceptable. Choosing clothes wasn't about picking something he felt he needed; in his view, there was no real necessity for him to buy a new suit at all. He was only buying one because Felicia insisted, so naturally, he had to ask for her opinion.
"No, this one makes you look too thin, like a beanpole... though you are quite thin to begin with. You actually look better in your uniform. Do you have fake muscles padded in there?"
Peter looked at Felicia in shock. How could this woman even think such a thing? Given his level of exercise and the intensity of the battles he fought, how could his muscles not be prominent? Shrugging his shoulders, Peter decided to move on to the next one. He found an attendant to take the suit he had just tried on and then asked a question out of curiosity.
"Speaking of which, what if I don't have the money? It would be embarrassing to ask Aunt May for it, and even if you plan on dragging me to her, I won't agree to it."
Watching Felicia browse through row after row of suits in the clothing store, Peter suddenly posed the question. Felicia hadn't expected him to ask such a mundane thing. "Well, I have money I can lend you. Of course, if you don't feel like paying me back, I could just buy a couple of outfits for you as a gift."
Peter looked at Felicia with surprise. Because his identity was a secret, he had always maintained two sets of accounts. One belonged to Spider-Man; between investments from the Avengers and Oscorp, plus various merchandise sales, that account was quite wealthy. The other set of accounts, belonging to Peter Parker, wasn't exactly broke, but it wasn't much.
After all, he still maintained the website for the Daily Bugle, occasionally took a few photographs, and held the position of an intern at the Baxter Building—though the Baxter Building didn't actually pay much, as Reed Richards largely operated on the principle that science itself was the reward.
He certainly wasn't in a position to spend lavishly. In fact, Peter had initially intended to just find a shop and rent a suit, which was the choice of many students for Homecoming. It was entirely Felicia who had dragged him here.
"Is the Hardy family that rich?"
"No, but my father was very wealthy. You know, he was a very famous... art collector."
Peter's interest was piqued, or rather, he had more questions. "I'm surprised the IRS never came to audit those accounts."
"What are you thinking? Those are all legal art collections. My father did indeed collect many works of art during his lifetime, opened a museum with them, and established a foundation. So, the IRS didn't really have anything to say."
Peter was actually quite skeptical about the true origins of those artworks, but since the IRS hadn't raised any flags, it at least meant the current ownership was legitimate. Furthermore, theoretically, the Black Cat had been dead for several years and no one had raised any ownership disputes, indicating that the art within the foundation was clean.
He was simply shocked to find out that Felicia was quite wealthy.
"If your family is so rich... why did you come to Midtown High?"
Felicia didn't answer Peter's question directly. "Well, isn't Harry Osborn quite wealthy too?"
"Harry's situation was a bit unique. At that time, his relationship with his father was very poor, so naturally, he didn't intend to follow his father's wishes regarding school. He came to Midtown High entirely out of spite... though Norman didn't stop him either."
After Peter finished speaking, he looked at Felicia. She only smiled and then looked back at him. "Think about it, little brother. Instead of asking why I would go to a public high school, you should ask why I didn't go to a private one."
Peter caught the point Felicia was making. In her view, there was nothing special about Midtown High itself; the special part was its status as a public school... and specifically, that private schools had things she didn't need, which is why she chose public school.
"...Please don't tell me it was the attendance rate."
Felicia rolled her eyes. "What else? Even if I spend half a year in Europe, I can still graduate. That's why I went to a public high school. Things aren't as complicated as you think. Midtown High isn't some sacred ground of learning... at least it wasn't when I enrolled."
As for now, that was hard to say.
After the two of them browsed for a while longer, Felicia finally, somewhat reluctantly, picked out a suit. Peter, who had basically had no say for the past three hours, followed her into a roadside café to rest after paying.
Felicia sat by the window, looking out at the street, and suddenly raised an eyebrow.
"What's wrong?"
Peter looked out as well. Since neither his Spider-Sense nor his five senses reacted, he assumed nothing was happening, but Felicia's expression suggested otherwise. Felicia pondered for a moment before suddenly looking at Peter and asking, "Do you feel like the number of homeless people has... decreased?"
"The Hand went on a killing spree in New York before, killing many mobsters and banning the distribution of many enhancers, so..."
Peter stopped as he realized something was off. He had subconsciously assumed that cleaning up the mobs and banning enhancers would lead to a decrease in homelessness, but in this country, that theoretically wasn't how it worked. He looked back at the homeless people still present on the street and then carefully recalled the streets from his memory.
"No, that's not right. It didn't start decreasing during the time of the Hand; it has decreased just in the last few days. Could it be the Hand..."
Just as Peter was considering whether to tell Matt, he suddenly heard a sound. He and Felicia looked out the window together. They saw a somewhat familiar fat man pictured on the side of a van, which was broadcasting throughout the city.
"Fisk Relief Center—providing a safe harbor for all citizens in need."
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