Let me show you a new way Chapter 175

The movie continued to play slowly on the TV. As the protagonist, Ripley, the last survivor of the freighter, banished the alien into space by opening the hatch, then started the engine, burning the last alien to death.

The movie slowly ended.

Peter Parker was huddled in the corner of the sofa, his arms wrapped around his trembling legs. His face was pale and he was drenched in cold sweat, clearly terrified.

But Hela, next to him, was lazily sprawled on the sofa, holding a cookie with her left middle and index fingers, nibbling on it in small bites, looking quite content.

“Peter! Are you okay?” Hela, seeing the end credits begin to roll on the TV, stretched and asked Peter.

“I, I’m fine, I’m okay!” Peter swallowed, forcing himself to speak loudly, but Hela couldn’t help but laugh. His expression, clearly terrified but trying to act tough, was truly amusing.

“Are you sure, Peter?” Hela couldn’t help but lean closer to Peter and asked softly.

“If you’re really not scared, how about we watch Alien 2 too!” Hela said playfully, picking up the Alien 2 case from the stack of discs on the table with her right hand.

“No!” Peter immediately jumped up, his face filled with horror as he spoke to Hela, his voice even carrying a hint of pleading.

“Alright, alright! We won’t watch it then… so scared to death but still trying to act tough.” Hela shook her head helplessly, finding Peter’s reaction somewhat funny, then put down the disc. She used a tissue to wipe off the cookie crumbs on her left fingers.

Peter had brought over a plate of cookies, but he himself had only eaten one. Soon after the movie started and the plot began, he had huddled in the corner of the sofa, watching the movie in terror, completely forgetting to eat.

Hela, on the other hand, ate happily and watched the movie happily. Although Hela found the horror scenes very boring, because she felt that if it were her, she would probably choose to go up and hack the alien with a knife, but overall the movie was still quite interesting.

“Cough, cough!” Hela coughed twice. Eating several cookies had made her a bit parched. She stood up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

“By the way, Peter! Why haven’t Ben and May returned yet?” Hela took a big gulp of water, then looked out the window and checked the time, asking with some confusion.

Normally, she would have heard their voices by now, but it was still quiet outside, with no familiar figures.

“I don’t know, but Uncle Ben usually picks up Aunt May after work. Maybe they stopped by the supermarket to buy something!” Peter guessed casually.

“Oh, okay…” Hela listened, then fell silent for a moment. She quietly looked at the water glass in her hand. The remaining water in the glass rippled and slowly diffused, then slowly disappeared, under her trembling hands, caused by nervousness.

[Should I tell him now? But he’s scared right now. Is it really okay for me to tell him this bad news?] Hela struggled internally. On the day she received the diagnosis, her father had already warned her to tell the boy next door quickly.

She understood her father’s concern. Peter was just an ordinary person, his life would at most be a hundred years.

Hela was a god, an Asgardian deity. She had a lifespan of several thousand years. A mortal’s life was but a fleeting cloud in the eyes of Asgardians.

But Hela couldn’t do it. She wasn’t an old woman who had lived for thousands of years, but a little girl with only two years of memories, and Peter’s companionship was almost always present in those memories.

She didn’t know what to say. Faced with Peter’s invitation, she could only hide her unease, wanting to play happily with Peter in their final moments, leaving him with the most beautiful memories.

But she couldn’t drag it out any longer; she had to tell him.

“Hey! Hela, how about we watch The Empire Strikes Back? Many people say it’s the best sequel,” Peter shouted to Hela, who was standing in the kitchen, waving the Star Wars 2 case in his hand.

“Alright!” Hela hesitated for a moment, then replied.

“Awesome!” Peter shouted happily, secretly relieved that he wouldn’t have to watch Alien 2; that movie was truly terrifying.

Peter quickly ran to the DVD player, pressing something, and then Hela finally gathered her courage and strode forward. She wanted to tell him that this was their last day playing together, and she had so many things she wanted to say.

She wanted him not to be sad because of her departure, to try to pull himself together, to be cheerful, to make new friends, and to meet new people.

“Peter… I’ve wanted to tell you something for a long time…” Hela stood beside Peter, who was blowing tiny dust particles off the disc.

“Hey! Let’s talk about it later, after we finish this movie!” Peter rudely interrupted Hela, hurriedly putting the disc into the machine, not even noticing that he had put it in backward.

“I’m so sorry, Peter, I never found the chance, but I have to tell you, I…”

Click!

The front door suddenly opened, followed by a familiar creaking sound. Hela’s words were forcefully cut off by this sound. Peter, beside her, jumped up happily.

“Uncle Ben, Uncle Ben and Aunt May are back!” Peter shouted loudly, immediately leaving the DVD player and running towards the door, ready to greet his aunt and uncle.

But who entered…

It was only Aunt May…

Aunt May was stumbling, her eyes red, as if she had just cried bitterly. Behind her, a police officer followed.

“May?” Peter looked at Aunt May in surprise, his voice inexplicably trembling. He felt his hair stand on end, and a familiar chill emerged.

Peter quickly ran to Aunt May, looking at the police officer waiting outside with some confusion, then softly asked Aunt May, “What happened? Where’s Uncle Ben?”

Hela in the living room felt a wave of despair.

She stumbled backward, finally leaning against the sofa armrest, watching Aunt May and Peter speak softly.

“Robber…”

“He tried to stop him…”

“The guy fired a gun…”

Hela stared blankly at them, then shifted her gaze to the table, where a large stack of old movies lay. These were Uncle Ben’s collection.

Hela remembered the juice Uncle Ben had brought her, the books he had given her during holidays, that always optimistic, cheerful, middle-aged man who loved to preach.

Tears flowed unknowingly.

And Peter, in the distance, repeatedly confirmed Aunt May’s words: “Uncle Ben? No, it’s impossible, impossible, no! No! No!” Peter sank to the floor powerlessly, large tears streaming from his eyes.

“No, it’s impossible, he was so kind, so brave! How could something like this happen to him!” Peter cried out loudly, his voice filled with pain.

“Why… why him? What kind of world is this!”