Chapter 19: Wall-Phasing Infiltration
Those familiar with the Marvel Universe know this.
This World is a crazy stage where black technology constantly emerges.
On this stage,
Although Kingpin is a person without superpowers, he possesses 'cash power' as a tycoon and is the emperor of the dark World.
His methods, funding, and ambition are enough to support many projects that give superheroes headaches.
"Let me guess, what has this fatty hidden underground?"
Peter calculated in his mind.
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He clearly remembered that in the Spider-Man series of stories,
Kingpin had once developed high-tech like the prowler armor specifically to target Spider-Man.
Even...
If this Universe were slightly crazier,
Perhaps Kingpin built a particle collider underground, attempting to open the door to a parallel Universe?
After all,
In "Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse," Kingpin did pull off such hardcore stunts.
And those classic Spider-Man villains,
Rhino, Shocker, Vulture, Electro—many got their start through mechanical armor or body mutation technology.
Kingpin, as the mastermind financier, funding a few mad scientists to conduct illegal research is practically standard procedure.
"Whatever it is, since I found it, it belongs to me."
A slight smile curved Peter's lips.
If it's dangerous material, destroy it; if it's something good, borrow it for use at Osborn Industries.
Thinking of this, Peter hesitated no longer.
He focused on a wide corridor on an intermediate floor inside the building that appeared deserted.
That location was a surveillance blind spot and very close to the elevator.
"Fraud Magic, activate."
As Peter's mind moved, a portion of his stamina was instantly drained.
His figure, previously clinging to the exterior wall, vanished into thin air.
The next moment, space displaced.
Peter's feet landed steadily on the floor inside the building.
[Fraud Magic] was not just an invisibility skill, but also a short-range teleport with displacement effects.
This was practically a god-tier infiltration skill!
Combined with the 3D map scanning function of Peter's wristband, he didn't have to worry about ending up like some clumsy mages,
getting stuck in a wall crevice due to teleportation coordinate miscalculation, or instantly teleporting right under an enemy's gun.
"Perfect landing."
Peter stood up straight, looking at the empty corridor around him. At this moment, he was under the invisibility effect granted by the skill.
But he knew.
The invisibility duration of this skill was very short. Perhaps at max level it could last a long time,
but at LV1, it only lasted a few brief seconds.
This amount of time was enough for a stealth kill or disengaging from combat, but clearly insufficient for long-term infiltration.
But this didn't stump Peter.
"If the skill isn't enough, technology will make up for it."
Just before the invisibility effect of [Fraud Magic] was about to fade, Peter pressed his wristband again.
"Buzz—"
A faint sound of electric current flowed through his entire body.
His seemingly ordinary red and blue bodysuit rippled on its surface like water waves.
The nanocoating on the suit's surface began to instantly capture the light and color of the surrounding environment, simulating and refracting them perfectly.
One second later, Peter's figure disappeared into the air again.
This was not magic; this was optical camouflage.
Just like the invisibility technology in 'Predator' or 'Ghost in the Shell,'
Peter's entire person was now merged with the environment.
Unless someone held a thermal imager right up to his face, they wouldn't be able to detect that a person was standing there.
"This feels much better."
Peter walked a couple of steps in the corridor, looking at his completely transparent body, and nodded with satisfaction.
This was his current combat philosophy: the combination of his own supreme power and cutting-edge technology.
As Spider-Man,
His base attributes were enough to crush most living beings on this Planet.
Therefore,
Peter didn't need to be like Tony Stark,
enveloping himself in a heavy Iron Man Suit and relying on complex weapon systems and thrusters to fight.
To him,
something like the Iron Man Suit was actually a burden, restricting his transcendent agility.
What he needed was a suit that was light and comfortable enough,
while integrating various practical auxiliary functions like invisibility, X-ray vision, hacking intrusion, and environmental scanning.
"Besides, who says Spider-Man can only have one suit?"
Inside Peter's system space,
lay various heavy weapons and several backup special function suits.
If he truly encountered an enemy too difficult to fight, or if saturation firepower coverage was required,
he could instantly pull out an armor on the level of the Hulkbuster.
The Spider-Man in the comics has dozens of suits: Iron Spider, Stealth Spider, Symbiote Suit...
Peter, possessing the system as a cheat and supported by Osborn Industries, would only have a more luxurious arsenal than in the comics.
"As expected..."
While maintaining invisibility, Peter felt the changes within his body.
"This move, [Fraud Magic], like the previous skills, forcibly expends my stamina to activate."
Although the teleportation distance was short, he clearly felt his stamina drop.
"It probably consumed one-twentieth of my stamina."
Peter quickly made an assessment.
"For an ordinary person, using this once might leave them exhausted, but for me..."
He took a deep breath, his powerful cardiopulmonary function kicked in, and his blood flow accelerated.
In just a few seconds,
that faint sense of depletion disappeared.
"A couple of breaths and it's recovered," Peter shrugged. "This is the advantage of high Constitution."
But he wasn't satisfied by this; instead, he fell into thought.
On the system's attribute panel,
he currently only had four basic attributes: [Strength], [Agility], [Constitution], and [Spirit].
According to the system's description, Peter was missing one very crucial element.
[Energy].
In most game or novel settings,
casting spells consumes Mana, casting Ninjutsu consumes Chakra, and practicing martial arts consumes Internal Force or True Qi.
But Peter's current situation was:
Although the system rewarded him with extraordinary skills like [Fraud Magic] and [shadow clone],
it had not equipped Peter with the corresponding energy source.
This caused Peter, when activating skills, to only be able to use a simple and crude conversion method:
directly deducting stamina to substitute for the mana bar.
Although Peter had high health, defense, and fast recovery, this consumption seemed bearable for now.
But he knew clearly,
this was an inefficient conversion method.
It was like driving a Ferrari but using a pushcart to make it move forward.
Although he was strong enough to push it, if there was gasoline, this car could run faster, farther, and more fiercely.
"Logically, if magic or Internal Force were used to drive the skills, the effect would definitely be much stronger than simply consuming stamina," Peter thought to himself.
Fortunately, the Marvel Universe wasn't just about technological mutation; the mystical side of power also existed here.
Kamar-Taj's magic, Kunlun's "Qi," and even Asgard's divine power.
"I need to pay attention to missions in this area in the future," Peter set a small goal in his heart.
"If I can learn Kamar-Taj's magic and unlock the [Energy] attribute slot, my combat power will see a qualitative leap."
Chapter 20: Kingpin's Secret Base
"Ding—"
A crisp elevator chime sounded from a corner not far ahead.
Peter immediately composed himself, held his breath, and pressed himself motionless against the wall using his optical camouflage.
Two men in gray uniforms wearing ID badges came around the corner from the other end of the corridor.
They were carrying coffee, had deep dark circles under their eyes, and their hair was greasy.
They looked like typical miserable office workers, long exploited by capitalists and forced to work overtime late into the night.
"Hey, did you hear? That project underground is having problems again," one of the fat men wearing glasses complained in a low voice.
"The test subject from last night completely exploded. The cleaning crew spent three hours scrubbing the floor."
"Shh! Keep it down!"
The other man, tall and thin, nervously glanced around and made a shushing gesture.
"Do you want to die? Mr. Fisk hates it when people gossip about his 'business' behind his back. We are just responsible for maintaining the ventilation system; don't meddle in things that aren't your concern."
"I know, I know... I just find it too creepy."
The fat man shrank his neck and took a sip of coffee to calm his nerves.
"Let's finish this job quickly and go home. This place always gives me the chills."
The two walked quickly toward the elevator at the end of the corridor while talking in low voices.
They had no idea.
That right next to them, less than half a meter away, stood an invisible intruder.
Peter watched these two oblivious guides, and the corners of his mouth beneath his mask curved up slightly.
"Fisk Tower employees? Perfect, I'll catch a ride."
Without any hesitation.
His footsteps were as light as a ghost's, silently following the two men toward the elevator.
"Ding—"
The elevator doors slowly closed, sealing the two maintenance workers inside the small cabin.
After entering the elevator, the two stopped talking.
Although based on their positions, they were merely ordinary logistics staff in Fisk Tower.
Due to the nature of their work.
They often traveled through every corner of the building to maintain the complex ventilation duct system.
Over time.
The two had more or less learned some secrets about this tower and its owner.
Wilson Fisk.
To the outside world, this name belonged to a benevolent philanthropist and a successful entrepreneur.
But in the eyes of the internal staff of the tower, he was an absolute tyrant, an emperor whom no one dared to disobey.
Many employees knew.
Fisk was the ruthless king of the underworld, known as the Kingpin.
And this magnificent tower.
Was a sweatshop disguised in the guise of modern commerce.
Therefore.
Even in an elevator without outsiders, these employees dared not discuss too much.
In this place, knowing too much sometimes meant dying faster.
The two stopped speaking.
An awkward silence fell inside the cabin, broken only by the faint friction sound of the elevator cables running.
Just then.
"Huh?"
The fat man was stunned and broke the silence in the elevator, looking at the control panel with a confused face.
"What's going on? I clearly pressed the button for the dormitory upstairs, why did it switch to going down? Did you press it?"
He turned to look at the tall, thin man beside him.
The tall, thin man also looked bewildered, spreading his hands:
"Why would I bother pressing the button to go down? I'm so tired I wish I could be lying in bed right now."
As soon as the words fell.
Their gazes met, and both saw a rapidly spreading look of fear in the other's eyes.
If neither of them pressed it, then who did?
It was the Fisk Tower late at night, and they were the only two living people in the elevator.
Surely, they hadn't run into a ghost?!
"Gulp..."
The fat man swallowed, feeling a chill down his back, a coldness rushing from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head.
He said in a trembling voice:
"I remember now, this building seems to have had an accident before. Someone said the elevator at night will..."
"Shut up! Stop scaring yourself!"
The tall, thin man interrupted him, but his voice was also shaking, "It must be a system malfunction, the circuit board must be aging!"
However.
Images of the disgusting, bloody scenes they had occasionally glimpsed while maintaining certain restricted zones underground surfaced involuntarily in their minds.
The body bags being transported out, the dark red stains that wouldn't wash off the floor, and the faint screams echoing late at night.
Fear coiled around their hearts like a venomous snake.
What they didn't know was.
The real 'ghost' was currently inside the elevator.
Peter maintained his invisibility, arms crossed, leaning quietly against the inner wall of the elevator.
That button just now was, of course, the result of him lightly tapping it with Web fluid.
"Sorry, gentlemen workers."
Peter looked at the two terrified unlucky fellows, his heart remaining completely calm, perhaps even feeling a little amused.
As the elevator descended, the numbers finally settled on "B3."
"Ding—"
The elevator doors opened, and a blast of cold, damp air rushed toward them.
This was the third basement level.
It was also the lowest level accessible by this regular staff elevator.
The level above it, B2, was the parking garage used by internal staff.
The level he was on now.
Appeared to be half parking garage and half a huge warehouse filled with miscellaneous junk.
"What do we do? Hurry up and press the button to go up!"
The two employees looked at the deep darkness outside the door, their legs turning to jelly.
They huddled tightly against the innermost part of the elevator, not daring to take a single step out, afraid that a hand would reach out from the darkness and drag them away.
But Peter showed no hesitation.
The moment the elevator doors opened, he slipped out silently, like an invisible gust of wind, gliding over their heads.
"It seems this isn't the final destination."
Peter squatted in the shadow of a concrete pillar, activating the combat suit's [X-Ray Scan] function.
In his eyepiece view, the floor beneath him became transparent.
He could clearly see.
Below the third basement level, there was another layer of space, more hidden and much larger.
The fourth basement level.
That was Kingpin's true lair, the core of the evil.
"The regular elevator can't reach B4. Perhaps that area requires specific biometric identification, or higher-level clearance."
Peter stroked his chin.
For a regular Agent, this might be a dead end.
But for Peter, who could phase through walls, this was merely a slightly thinner piece of cardboard.
He had previously used Fraud Magic to ignore physical barriers and phase through walls, entering directly from the outside of the tower into the interior.
So now.
Peter could naturally use the same method to instantly teleport through the floor beneath him and arrive directly at the more deeply hidden fourth basement level.
The energy within his body surged again.
Fraud Magic!
Peter's figure instantly vanished from the spot.
"Buzz—"
Accompanied by a slight spatial ripple, the scene around Peter underwent a drastic change.
An underground Base brightly lit with an eerie atmosphere.
"Holy crap..."
Even the well-traveled Peter couldn't help but curse inwardly when he saw the scene before him.
"Is this Kingpin trying to replicate Osborn Industries?"
Chapter 21: Exoskeleton + Bio-Modified Human
Of course.
What Peter mentioned was the Osborn Industries from the original movie plot, the one that hadn't been influenced by him.
Now, Osborn Industries, guided by Peter, was far more powerful than it was in the movie.
The space on the fourth underground floor was vast.
It appeared to be at least a thousand square meters, clearly divided into two areas by thick explosion-proof glass walls and metal fences.
The left area.
Is the "Military Industrial Research and Development Zone," echoing with mechanical roars.
Several automated assembly lines were operating, with robotic arms busy welding and assembling.
On the display racks there,
Peter saw something familiar: an exoskeleton armor alternating between dark green and purple.
They lacked the fully covered, streamlined aesthetic of the Iron Man Suit, nor did they possess the high-tech power source of an Arc Reactor.
These armors looked rougher and more menacing, embodying a violent pragmatism.
Sharp alloy claw gloves, heavy hydraulic leg boosters, a sonic wave oscillation device mounted on the back,
And that iconic mask with a green breathing light.
"prowler armor?"
Peter recognized the design style instantly.
Kingpin's subordinate, the Prowler, wore similar equipment.
But there wasn't just one set here.
Peter made a rough count; several sets were fully assembled, with many more in the assembly line's semi-finished state.
"Mass-produced Prowler Suits..."
His heart sank.
"What is Kingpin planning? Building a special forces unit? If a dozen armored thugs charged into the streets of New York, it would absolutely be a disaster."
But this wasn't what shocked Peter the most; his gaze shifted to the right area.
That was the "Bio-Experimentation Zone."
Or, more accurately, a living hell.
The air was thick with the smell of strong formalin and blood.
Dozens of shabby, vacant-eyed people were confined in simple transparent glass rooms lined up against the wall.
From their worn-out clothes and filthy skin, Peter could easily determine their identity.
Homeless people.
There were simply too many homeless people in New York, as numerous as rats in a sewer; losing a batch went unnoticed.
Especially in Hells Kitchen, a place even the Police had given up on.
It was easier for Kingpin to capture a few hundred homeless people for experiments than to buy groceries at a supermarket.
"Let me go! Please! Just give me a little money for alcohol..."
A skeletal homeless man
was being forcefully dragged out of his cell by two burly men in protective suits and pinned onto the central metal testing table.
He struggled desperately, but it was meaningless against their brute force.
"Click! Click!"
Heavy metal shackles locked his limbs, fixing him to the cold tabletop in an 'X' shape.
Beside the testing table stood a man utterly out of place in the high-tech environment.
It wasn't a scientist in a white coat.
But a man wearing a dark red robe and a strange bone amulet around his neck.
His face was smeared with some kind of paint, his eyes fanatical and deranged, looking more like a Charlatan from some cult.
Or, what is commonly known as a 'fringe scientist.'
Peter frowned, not rushing to act, but quietly clinging to the ventilation duct on the ceiling.
He adjusted the focus of his eyepiece and observed carefully.
He saw the Charlatan carefully taking out a black stone bowl from the side.
The bowl contained half a bowl of thick, black liquid that writhed like crude oil.
"What is this stuff?"
Peter's internal alarm bells rang loudly.
The black liquid gave him a very bad feeling; it even caused his Spider-Sense to tingle slightly.
It didn't seem like a chemical agent, but rather like some... living thing.
"Great Lord of Hell..."
The Charlatan held the stone bowl high above his head with both hands and began muttering incoherent incantations.
"Please pity these lowly ants and grant us Your divine power! Let the black Fire purify their flesh and recast their souls!"
"Lord of Hell? Black magic?"
Peter narrowed his eyes.
In the Marvel Universe, those referred to as the Lord of Hell should be Hell Lords or dimensional gods and demons.
He knew of several such beings.
Mephisto, Dormammu, Satannish, Lucifer... even Hela.
But considering the background of Hells Kitchen and Kingpin's sphere of influence,
This was likely related to an evil organization called 'The Hand' or some underground sect worshipping demons.
When the incantation finished,
The Charlatan grabbed the homeless man's chin and forcibly poured the bowl of black liquid down his throat.
"Gulp... Cough cough cough!"
The homeless man choked violently, trying to spit it out.
But the liquid seemed alive; it slid down his throat straight into his stomach.
The next second, a terrifying thing happened.
"Aaaaaaaah!!!"
The homeless man let out a heart-wrenching scream.
His body began to convulse violently, and his originally frail muscles inflated wildly, like a balloon being pumped up.
The veins beneath his skin instantly turned pitch black, writhing frantically under the flesh like countless black earthworms.
"Power! I feel power!"
The homeless man's voice became hoarse and distorted.
He gave a sudden violent jerk.
The originally sturdy metal shackles let out a grating, twisting sound; the steel was forcibly stretched and deformed.
This power...
Far exceeded the limits of a normal human, even approaching the level of Captain America!
"Did it succeed?"
The surrounding Researchers watched the data panel nervously.
"No..."
Peter shook his head; he could see more clearly from above.
The homeless man's vital signs were collapsing; the power was too volatile, something mortal flesh simply could not withstand.
As expected.
In less than three seconds.
"Bang!!!"
A dull explosion sounded.
The homeless man's body, expanded to its limit, burst open like a punctured balloon.
Flesh and blood splattered everywhere.
Black blood and shredded meat even sprayed onto the explosion-proof glass several meters away, slowly sliding down, leaving behind gruesome traces.
"Failed again."
The Charlatan seemed completely accustomed to such a tragic death; he didn't even lift an eyelid.
He merely flicked the bloodstains on his robe away with disgust.
And coldly stated:
"The willpower of these pieces of trash is too weak to withstand the blessings of the gods. Clean up, next person!"
Several staff members skillfully stepped forward.
Carrying high-pressure hoses and body bags, they washed away the remains of the person who was once human, just like cleaning up garbage.
Immediately after,
The next screaming homeless man was dragged up.
This cycle repeated.
Peter watched silently from above; in just a few minutes, three homeless men had died violently.
Until the fourth test subject.
He was a young homeless man who looked slightly stronger.
After being forced to ingest the black liquid,
Although he also howled and convulsed in agony, and strange black patterns appeared on his skin, he endured it.
The homeless man's eyes turned completely black, with no whites visible, and his body emitted a chilling, eerie aura.
"Excellent! A successful adapter!"
The Charlatan's eyes lit up, and he immediately waved his hand in signal.
An assistant quickly stepped forward and injected the homeless man, who hadn't yet gone berserk, with a tube of chemical tranquilizer.
"Uh..."
The homeless man rolled his eyes and passed out, then was carried into the observation room nearby.
In that observation room, four or five similar "survivors" were already lying there.
Seeing this scene,
Peter rapidly pieced together Kingpin's complete plan in his mind.
"Exoskeleton armor... paired with bio-modified humans?"
Chapter 22: Black Sky Warrior
Peter's heart skipped a beat.
Kingpin's ambition was even greater than he had imagined.
The simple prowler armor, while possessing fierce firepower, required strictly trained soldiers to operate.
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The simple black liquid enhancement could grant immense strength, but it was prone to losing control and resulted in low intelligence.
But what if these two things were combined?
Using that black liquid called 'gods gift' to enhance the human skeleton and muscles, turning them into tireless, terrifyingly strong monsters.
And then giving these monsters.
Exoskeleton armor with astonishing defense and powerful firepower...
That would create a legion of super killing machines, immune to pain, impervious to blades and bullets, and capable of scaling walls!
"Death soldiers possessing dual power..."
"If Kingpin manages to create this army, the entire underworld of New York will be washed clean in blood."
He recalled the enhancement methods of the Green Goblinin the original story, and also Captain America's Super Soldier Serum.
Kingpin was clearly taking a darker, more unscrupulous shortcut.
This kind of technology, built upon piles of human lives, had to be destroyed.
"I regret to inform you, Kingpin."
Peter maintained his invisibility, drifting down slowly from the ceiling like a light feather.
He chose his landing spot with extreme precision.
Right behind a Researcher who had his back to him, recording experimental data at the console.
"Your grand plan is going to be declared bankrupt tonight."
Peter's feet touched the ground silently, less than half a meter from the Researcher's back.
At this range.
He could even smell the sickening scent of blood coming from the man.
[Fraud Magic: Backstab Effect (Activated)]
[Backstab: The first attack launched while invisible is guaranteed to be a critical hit, doubling its power!]
If it were an ordinary elbow strike, Peter's strength alone was enough to punch through a tank.
Then, what about his rigorously trained elbow strike, amplified by double critical damage?
"Goodbye."
There were no flashy moves, just a plain, unadorned elbow strike.
"Boom!!!"
This didn't sound like the sound of a physical impact; it was more like a high-explosive grenade detonating in an enclosed space.
With the boost from the 'Backstab' double critical damage, combined with Peter's monstrous strength, the power of this elbow strike had already broken the common sense of a mortal body.
The Researcher didn't even have a chance to scream.
In that instant.
His spine, ribs, internal organs, and even every inch of muscle disintegrated under this overwhelming force.
"Pfft—"
Immediately following that.
Came a scene that everyone present would never forget for the rest of their lives.
The Researcher's body exploded on the spot.
Like a watermelon crushed by a hydraulic press, a mist of blood mixed with shattered bone fragments and organ pieces sprayed outward in a radial pattern.
The closest Charlatan was instantly smeared with red and white 'paint,' nearly dropping the stone bowl in his hand.
Dead silence.
The entire underground laboratory fell into a deathly quiet; even the hum of the ventilation fan seemed gratingly loud.
All security personnel, Researchers, and that Charlatan.
Stared blankly at the spot where the person had just been standing.
Now.
Only a pair of severed feet still wearing shoes remained, along with a shocking abstract painting on the wall.
"Wha... what's going on?"
The Charlatan wiped the blood from his face, completely stunned.
He stared dazedly at the mess on the floor, his mind blank, murmuring to himself.
"I didn't feed him the 'gods gift'! Only bodies that can't withstand the divine power explode. Why did he explode on his own?"
Just then.
A ripple spread through the air, and Peter's figure slowly deactivated his invisibility.
The red and blue suit looked particularly striking under the dim lighting, his white lenses coldly observing these villains.
"The critical hit effect is quite good," Peter secretly assessed in his mind. "The feedback feels solid."
The people present finally reacted.
"It's Spider-Man!!!"
Someone shouted first, and fear instantly erupted among the crowd.
A person's name casts a long shadow.
If this were a few months ago, people might have just thought Spider-Man was a vigilante in a spandex suit.
But recently.
"The Elbow Demon of Hells Kitchen," "The Bone Crusher," "The False No-Kill Principle"...
These nicknames had already spread through the underworld.
Everyone involved in organized crime knew.
The current Spider-Man was bold, ruthless, and though he claimed a no-kill rule, he struck harder than anyone else.
Looking at the security personnel frantically reaching for their guns, Peter spread his hands and said with a sincere and innocent tone:
"Don't be afraid, everyone. As you all know, I am your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. I have a strict 'no-kill principle.'"
Hearing this.
The corners of everyone's mouths twitched wildly; their eyes looked at him as if he were insane.
No-kill principle? Brother, look at the severed feet on the ground! Look at that smear on the wall!
That guy has already been reduced to the periodic table, and you call that a no-kill principle?!
Even a grenade explosion isn't as brutal as this elbow strike of yours!
"Open fire! Shoot him! Kill him!"
The security Captain roared hysterically, drawing the Glock pistol from his waist first.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Gunshots erupted instantly.
Over a dozen fully armed private soldiers raised automatic rifles and submachine guns, unleashing a frenzied barrage toward Peter's position.
The muzzle flashes illuminated the dim laboratory, flickering on and off.
However, in Peter's eyes, all of this was too slow.
His extremely high agility and mental attributes, combined with the precognitive ability of his Spider-Sense.
Made the World in his eyes seem like it had hit the slow-motion button. Peter could clearly see the trajectory of every single bullet.
"Too slow."
Peter's figure flickered, lightly executing a few side steps, backward leans, and jumps.
The bullets grazed past his suit, striking the explosion-proof glass and equipment behind him, sparking, but not even touching the hem of his clothes.
"How is this possible?!!!"
The security Captain's eyeballs nearly popped out. "Is this even human?"
"Are you done? Then it's my turn."
Peter's voice still echoed where he was, but his figure had already vanished.
The next second, he appeared in front of the security Captain.
"Good night."
"Thud!"
A plain uppercut.
The security Captain shot upward vertically like a Rocket, his jaw shattered, instantly losing consciousness.
Following that.
Came a one-sided massacre—oh no, a 'forced sleep operation.'
Peter's figure weaved through the crowd like a phantom.
Every pause was accompanied by a dull sound of bone impact.
"Thud!"
"Thud!"
"Thud!"
No one could see his movements.
They could only see security personnel being hit by an invisible sledgehammer, either sent flying or collapsing to the ground.
In just five seconds.
All twenty-plus armed guards present were down, having entered a state of deep, infant-like sleep (meaning severe concussion plus multiple fractures).
At this point.
Only the group of Researchers in white coats and the Charlatan still holding a bowl remained in the laboratory.
"Quick! Hurry up and activate the Black Sky Warrior!"
Chapter 23: Another New Mission
One Researcher was scared out of his wits, scrambling to the control panel.
He slammed down a red emergency button.
"Right... Right! Black Sky! The power of a god!"
That Charlatan also snapped out of his terror, and that sickly fanaticism reappeared on his face.
He threw away the stone bowl in his hand.
Raising both hands, he began chanting an incantation in an even more rapid and ear-piercing tone.
"Awaken! Walker in the Darkness! Offspring of the Beast! Tear this blasphemer before you to shreds!"
As the alarm sounded,
In the observation room,
The experimental subjects who had been injected with tranquilizers, were in a deep sleep, having successfully received the 'gods gift' experiment.
Slowly, they opened their eyes, which had turned pitch black and devoid of any human emotion.
They woke up from their slumber!
"Black Sky Warrior? It really is people from The Hand."
As soon as Peter heard the name, he immediately confirmed the identity of the other party.
As one of the most famous villain organizations in the Marvel Universe, The Hand is known to everyone.
These ninja killers who worshiped the 'Beast'.
Their specialties included resurrecting the dead, brainwashing and control, and this human enhancement experiment called 'Black Sky'.
That pitch-black liquid was clearly the medium containing the evil power of the 'Beast'.
[Ding! New Quest Commission Triggered: The Conspiracy of The Hand]
[Quest Description: You have discovered a transaction between Kingpin and the ancient evil organization The Hand. They are using homeless people to create killing machines called 'Black Sky Warriors'. As a partner of justice, you have an obligation to find out their ultimate goal.]
[Quest Objective: Investigate The Hand's strongholds, expose their conspiracy, and deliver punishment.]
[Quest Reward: 8000 Experience Points, 2 Free Attribute Points, 1 Skill Point, Random Item Lottery Chance * 1.]
Peter glanced at the system panel and casually accepted the quest.
"The rewards are passable."
He muttered to himself, "What kind of conspiracy can The Hand, these eternal extras, have?"
"It's nothing more than wanting revenge on Kunlun, or resurrecting some figure, or maybe they just want to summon the 'Beast' to New York for a party."
In his memory,
Almost every predecessor who crossed over into the Marvel Universe had to deal with The Hand.
This had almost become a mandatory check-in activity in Marvel.
If someone hadn't beaten up a few Hand ninjas, they wouldn't even have the nerve to greet people when going out.
However,
Although he felt contempt for this organization in his heart,
Peter also knew that just muttering a few words here wouldn't complete the quest.
"I'll have to make another trip later."
Peter calculated in his mind, "The strongholds of The Handare usually very hidden."
"But it doesn't matter. As their old adversary, Daredeviland the Chaste, perhaps they know their location."
"At that time, I'll reveal my identity as Spider-Man, and then 'persuade them with virtue'. I believe Attorney Murdock will be happy to share intelligence with me."
In the short moment Peter was thinking,
The five 'Black Sky Warriors' with pitch-black eyes had already completed their encirclement.
They maintained a strange silence.
Although Peter couldn't see their eyes, the killing intent locking onto him.
Let him know.
These guys had lost their humanity and were left with only the instinct to kill.
"Hahaha! Spider-Man!"
Seeing that his trump card was revealed, the Charlatan's spine immediately straightened up.
He hid behind the Black Sky Warriors and laughed wildly.
"Surrender obediently! These are warriors baptized by divine power! Although you are a superhuman, you are nothing more than an ant before the power of a god!"
"If you are willing to surrender, I can recommend you to the higher-ups, allowing you to also receive the gods gift and become stronger!"
"gods gift?"
Peter looked at those monsters with bulging veins and couldn't help but laugh, his laughter full of disdain.
"Just these super vagrants pumped up with low-quality stimulants? You really underestimate my strength, don't you?"
"Also, your so-called 'Beast', in my opinion, is just some dirty thing that hasn't fully evolved."
"Arrogant! Kill him!" the Charlatan roared.
"Roar!!!"
The leading Black Sky Warrior let out a non-human roar, and the alloy floor beneath his feet suddenly cracked.
The entire figure lunged at Peter like a black cannonball.
His speed was extremely fast, and the punch he threw brought up a piercing sound of air breaking, clearly possessing considerable power.
If Daredevil faced this punch, he might need to dodge.
But Peter?
He neither dodged nor evaded, not even blinking an eyelid.
He simply casually raised his right arm, met the opponent's fist, and threw an elbow strike.
"Going head-to-head? You're courting death!"
A hint of joy flashed in the Charlatan's eyes.
The bones of the Black Sky Warriors were strengthened by Black magic, their hardness comparable to steel!
However, the next second, his smile froze.
"Crack!!!"
A crisp sound.
It was the sound of bone shattering as the two forces collided in the air.
On one side was the so-called 'divine power' strengthened by Black magic, roughly an impact force of three to four tons.
And on the other side...
Was Peter's monstrous strength, conservatively estimated at over a hundred tons.
This was simply a heavy-duty truck crashing into a small Teddy bear.
"Bang!"
The Black Sky Warrior's entire arm instantly exploded into a mist of blood.
Not only that.
The terrifying kinetic energy transferred along the arm to his torso, and half of his body instantly disintegrated.
The entire person flew backward like a rag doll, smashing violently into the wall, completely stuck.
Instant kill.
"This..."
Peter shook his hand and pouted slightly in disappointment.
"Probably three or four tons of strength? It's decent compared to ordinary people, barely qualifies as a teenage version of Captain America."
"But..."
He looked at the remaining four stiff Black Sky Warriors and sighed.
"To me, they are just slightly larger ants."
The Charlatan and the other Researchers present were all incomparably shocked, their eyeballs nearly popping out.
This was the weapon they had cultivated with countless lives, with meticulous effort!
It couldn't even withstand one move from this Spider?
"This is impossible! These are the warriors of a god!" the Charlatan shouted in collapse.
"God? If your god only has this little ability, then you should retire early."
Peter didn't give them any more chances and decided to end the lives of these cultists.
"The farce is over."
His figure instantly vanished from where he stood.
This time,
What Peter displayed was no longer a single-point attack, but the incredibly proficient [Six Elbows in One Second].
In the air, it seemed as if six afterimages of Peter appeared.
"Bang bang bang bang!"
The remaining four Black Sky Warriors were hit hard almost simultaneously.
Some had their sternums caved in, some had their cervical vertebrae broken, and some had their heads directly pressed into the floor.
There were no flashy techniques.
It was a pure crush of speed and strength.
After dealing with these so-called 'Warriors of God', Peterdidn't stop; his figure swept through the laboratory.
"And you guys, the ones who aided the tyrant."
Those Researchers wearing white coats and holding scalpels.
Hadn't even managed to flee before their vision blurred.
Then came a sharp pain in the back of their heads, and the World plunged into darkness.
Chapter 24: The Dragon Bone Treasure
Thump, thump, thump, thump!
After a series of dense thuds.
Less than ten seconds passed.
The previously noisy underground laboratory returned to silence once more.
Besides the homeless men confined in the glass rooms, only that Charlatan remained in the center of the area.
At this moment.
The Charlatan had completely collapsed onto the floor, a stench of urine emanating from between his legs.
He looked at the ruins littering the ground, at the Black Sky Warriors piled up like trash.
His worldview had completely shattered.
The dark magic he prided himself on, the power of the 'Beast' he worshipped.
In front of this man wearing a bodysuit, it was as fragile as a joke.
"Spider-Man, well done!"
"Waaah... Oh God, someone finally came to save us!"
"Get rid of those damned guys! Kill him! That bastard in the red robe!"
The homeless men in the surrounding glass rooms snapped out of their initial shock upon seeing this scene.
And erupted in deafening cheers.
They had been locked up here suffering inhuman torture, watching their comrades die tragically, and they already hated this Charlatan to the bone.
Listening to the surrounding shouts of slaughter.
The Charlatan trembled, looking at Peter slowly approaching, his eyes filled with despair.
"Don't, don't kill me!"
The Charlatan knelt on the ground, trying to grasp the last straw.
"I can help you! I can help you gain power! I can help you open the door to a new World and let you meet the true God!"
"I'm not interested in your God that looks like a wild boar."
Peter walked up to the Charlatan.
As if lifting a chick, he grabbed the collar of his robe and hoisted his entire body into mid-air.
His lenses were close to the Charlatan's paint-smeared face, his voice low:
"Now, I ask, and you answer."
"Tell me, are you one of The Hand? What agreement did you reach with Kingpin? Besides these mutated homeless men, what else are you planning in Hells Kitchen?"
"If your answer doesn't satisfy me..."
Peter slightly tilted his head and glanced at the abstract painting on the wall titled 'Former Researcher'.
His tone was chilling:
"I don't mind putting you on the wall too, turning you into a new mural."
"Don't! Don't kill me! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"
Suspended in mid-air by Peter, as if being held like a chick.
The Charlatan had long lost the fervor and arrogance he displayed while presiding over the evil ritual.
Looking at the Black Sky Warriors beaten into mosaics on the ground, smelling the thick scent of blood in the air.
His psychological defenses.
Collapsed instantly, like a dam breached by a flood.
The Charlatan trembled.
His paint-smeared face was streaming with tears and snot, mixing with the blood splatters, making him look both comical and disgusting.
"Spider-Man, My Lord... No, Your Excellency! This was all the will of the higher-ups!"
The Charlatan confessed frankly.
"Kingpin is just a collaborator! The one truly leading everything is indeed us, The Hand!"
"As expected."
Peter narrowed his eyes, not feeling surprised.
When he heard the words 'Black Sky' and 'Beast,' he had already guessed seven or eight parts.
"Continue."
Peter said coldly.
"Kingpin is a character who won't stir unless there's profit, and The Hand is extremely arrogant."
"Why would these two completely unrelated evil forces band together to conduct this kind of biological experiment?"
"It's... it's because of a lack of power."
The Charlatan swallowed, stammering out an explanation.
"The situation in New York now, especially Hells Kitchen, is too complex, with superhumans emerging endlessly."
"Although The Hand's ninjas are well-trained, when facing high-tech equipment like Iron Man's, or superhumans like yourself, their casualties are too heavy."
This was the truth.
Although The Hand's ninjas were bizarre and knew ninjutsu, and could even be resurrected through secret arts.
Fundamentally, they were still mortal flesh and blood.
A single bullet, or one heavy punch from Peter, could teach them a lesson.
"So, the Five Fingers decided to cooperate with Kingpin."
The Charlatan pointed to the prowler armors nearby that had not been activated.
"Kingpin provides vast funding, the venue, and the technical support for this kind of high-tech exoskeleton armor."
"And we, The Hand, are responsible for providing the magical power of the 'Beast' to create the Black Sky Warriors with terrifying physical abilities."
"This is only the first batch of experimental subjects."
The Charlatan spilled all his secrets to save his life.
"The production line for these enhanced Prowlers is not just at Fisk Tower; similar experiments are also underway at several secret strongholds of The Hand."
"Moreover, the raw materials used there are not homeless men, but elite ninjas cultivated from childhood!"
Peter's heart stirred slightly.
If ninjas proficient in killing techniques were used as raw material, then enhanced by the 'Beast's' power.
Finally,
Dressed in bulletproof and heavily armed prowler armors...
Their combat strength could truly reach a minor BOSS level, perhaps even surpassing the five leaders of The Hand.
"So that's it, mass-produced super soldiers."
Peter sneered.
"Why go to such great lengths to create a bio-mechanical army? What do you want? To rule Hells Kitchen?"
"No... No..."
The Charlatan shook his head, a flicker of fear crossing his eyes, as if what he was about to say involved some kind of taboo.
"Our goal is underground, deep within this city."
"Underground?"
Peter keenly caught the keyword.
"Yes, underground."
The Charlatan lowered his voice even further.
"The Five Fingers are certain that a supreme treasure is buried deep beneath Manhattan."
"To obtain it, we need this army to clear obstacles, and also to transport and guard that thing."
"Underground treasure?"
Peter raised an eyebrow.
As a transmigrator familiar with the Marvel plot, a flash of lightning struck his mind, connecting all the clues.
The answer was imminent.
"Let me guess."
Peter looked at the Charlatan's bewildered expression, a smile curving his lips.
"Your so-called treasure, could it be the Dragon Bone?"
Upon hearing these two words.
The Charlatan's body stiffened abruptly, his pupils contracting violently, as if he had heard something unbelievable.
"How did you know?! This is a core secret!"
The Charlatan cried out in alarm.
He was a mid-level member of The Hand, responsible for presiding over the Black Sky ritual, and had heard some vague rumors about the subterranean area.
Dragon Bone.
It was the secret treasure that the Five Fingers wanted to obtain at any cost.
After all, such a thing was extremely rare.
It was the remains of an ancient divine beast, containing a vast life energy called 'Qi'.
On Earth.
This thing was even more precious than the Vibranium of Wakanda.
The leaders of The Hand had survived for several hundred years because they relied on drawing power from the Dragon Bone.
Now.
Their lifespans had reached their limit again, and they urgently needed a new 'battery'.
Peter ignored the Charlatan's shock.
Because the moment he guessed the answer correctly, a pleasant system prompt sounded in his mind.
[Ding! Mission success!]
[Mission: The Hand's Conspiracy (Completed)]
[Mission Evaluation: Perfect Deduction. You not only saw through the enemy's tactical deployment (Black SkyProwlers) but also instantly grasped their strategic intent (excavating the Dragon Bone).]
[Reward Obtained: 8000 Experience Points.]
[Reward Obtained: 2 Free Attribute Points.]
[Reward Obtained: 1 Skill Point.]
[Reward Obtained: 1 Random Item Draw Chance.]
Chapter 25: Looting the Spoils
I guessed right."
Peter felt completely assured.
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The System's judgment mechanism was simple and crude; since the mission showed as complete, his speculation must be fact.
"It seems those five old undying things are really getting desperate."
Peter thought to himself.
"If they manage to dig up the Dragon Bone beneath Manhattan, not only can they extend their lives, but they might even bring the entirety of New York crashing down."
Seeing Peter's expression of absolute certainty,
The Charlatan finally realized.
This man before him wasn't just terrifying in strength; his knowledge of the Dark Dimension was even deeper than his own.
"The Dragon Bone that can grant people long life..."
The Charlatan mumbled, a flash of greed crossing his eyes, but it was immediately drowned out by his fear of death.
He looked at the corpses littering the ground.
He knew that if he didn't figure something out immediately, he would become the next 'artwork on the wall'.
"S-Spider-Man..."
The Charlatan gathered his last shred of courage and threatened with a fierce but empty tone.
"Since you know this is a joint effort between The Handand Kingpin, you should know how dangerous your current situation is!"
He pointed toward the ceiling, his voice shrill.
"The alarm is already sounding! Mr. Kingpin is on the top floor! And today, it's not just him; many of the top superhuman criminals in the entire U.S. are having a meeting up there!"
"Bullseye, Tombstone, Mister Negative... They must have heard the alarm and will be down soon!"
"If you let me go now, I can still help you stall for time, and even plead on your behalf to give you a sliver of a chance to live! Otherwise..."
"Otherwise?"
Peter interrupted him, tilting his head as if he had heard a hilarious joke.
"Otherwise what? Send that rabble down to tickle me?"
"Are you threatening me with Kingpin?"
Peter lifted The Charlatan a bit higher, staring directly into his terrified eyes.
"If I were afraid of that big fatty, I wouldn't be standing here."
"As for those so-called high-quality villains..."
Peter chuckled lightly.
"Perfect. My'Street Brawler' mission is still short a few achievements. Let them all come at once, saving me the trouble of hunting them down one by one."
"You lunatic!"
The Charlatan despaired.
"I am a friendly neighborhood hero, not a lunatic. But for scum like you who treat living people as expendable resources..."
Peter's gaze instantly turned cold: "I have a specialized way of sending you off."
"No!!!"
The Charlatan let out a final, agonizing scream.
"Crack!"
Peter didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, he delivered a swift elbow strike.
It landed precisely on The Charlatan's throat.
The Charlatan's voice cut off abruptly. His neck was at a bizarre angle, and his entire body went limp, completely lifeless.
Peter casually let go, allowing the corpse to slide to the floor.
Thus,
The entire four-level underground laboratory, except for the homeless people huddled fearfully inside the glass rooms,
All The Hand members, researchers, and security forces,
Had been violently cleared out by Peter alone.
This was the crushing difference in strength; in the face of absolute power, all schemes and tricks became pale and powerless.
Peter clapped his hands.
He turned and walked toward the rows of bulletproof glass rooms holding the homeless.
Although the homeless were in extreme fear, they had grasped the situation.
This guy in the red and blue spandex suit, while killing more ruthlessly than a demon,
Only killed the beasts who tortured people.
"Spider-Man... save us..."
"Please, let us out..."
Faint cries for help drifted through the thick glass.
Peter stopped in front of one cell.
This glass was specially made, military-grade bulletproof glass, over five centimeters thick.
Even sustained fire from an AK47 would only leave white marks, and it could even withstand a small charge of C4 explosive.
But in front of Peter, it was no thicker than a sheet of paper.
"Don't be afraid, everyone."
Peter maintained a slightly teasing tone, trying to alleviate the hellish atmosphere.
"I am New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. I believe your mandatory physical examination is over; it's time for discharge."
As his words fell,
Peter didn't charge up a punch; he simply flicked his finger.
"Thwack!"
His long finger tapped the glass surface, producing a massive sound like a tolling bell.
Terrifying kinetic energy concentrated and exploded at a single point.
Immediately after,
The indestructible bulletproof glass, like a wine glass shattered by high-frequency sound waves,
Instantly covered itself in dense cracks.
"Crash—"
The next second,
The entire glass wall collapsed with a roar, turning into a pile of glittering shards on the floor.
The homeless were stunned.
This was the wall they had slammed against with all their might, and it hadn't budged an inch!
Yet, it shattered from a single finger flick by Spider-Man?
Peter repeated the action, flashing between the cells, shattering the glass of every single room.
"Thank you! Thank you, Spider-Man!"
"God bless you!"
The homeless cried tears of joy and thanked Peterprofusely. Some even tried to kiss his boots.
"Alright, alright, thanks can come later."
Peter waved his hand and pointed upward.
"It's not safe here. There's a group of worse guys above who might come down. You need to leave quickly."
"But the elevator is broken."
One homeless man pointed despairingly at the special elevator in the distance, which required both iris and palm print authentication to activate.
"And there's a passcode lock there."
"The elevator?"
Peter looked up at the thick alloy ceiling.
"We don't need an elevator. The friendly neighborhood hero never takes the conventional path."
He walked to the center of the laboratory, directly beneath the underground level three parking lot.
Peter took a deep breath.
His legs slightly bent, the muscles in his right arm suddenly bulged, the streamlined contours concealing power sufficient to shake mountains.
"Everyone step back a bit. This might get loud."
Under the horrified yet expectant gazes of the homeless,
Peter leaped up violently.
His right fist shot up like a Rocket, slamming fiercely into the half-meter-thick floor slab above.
"Open up for me!"
"BOOM!!!"
An earth-shattering roar echoed, as if the entire Fisk Towerhad violently shuddered.
Debris flew, and steel rebar snapped.
The hard structure of the underground bunker was as fragile as a brittle biscuit against Peter's unreasonable punch.
A large hole, over two meters in diameter, was violently blasted open,
Revealing the dim parking lot lights above.
One could even see an unlucky sedan that had slid down due to the collapsing floor, half its body suspended over the opening.
The building's alarm instantly became even more piercing.
Clearly,
The commotion from that punch had reached the top floor.
"Is this the power of a superhero?"
The homeless gaped, feeling their worldview being reshaped.
"The path is clear."
Peter landed and dusted off his hands.
He raised both hands, and the biological glands in his wrists began to operate.
"Go!"
Several thick strands of white Web fluid shot out, precisely adhering to the concrete rebar around the edge of the hole.
This time,
Peter adjusted the properties of the Web fluid via nerve signals.
These strands no longer possessed strong stickiness but were smooth and tough on the surface, like nylon rope ladders hanging down.
This was the superiority of organic Web fluid—changeable as the heart desired.
"Climb up these nets. Above is the parking lot, and the exit is to the east."
Peter pointed to the Web fluid rope ladders and told the homeless.
"Once you're out, even if you have to crawl, crawl out of Hells Kitchen. Don't look back."
"Thank you! Thank you!"
Although the homeless were physically weak,
Driven by the will to survive, they erupted with astonishing strength, scrambling to climb the Web fluid nets.
After watching the last homeless man disappear through the opening, Peter withdrew his gaze.
He wasn't in a hurry to leave.
He hadn't collected the spoils here yet.
Chapter 26: The Underworld Alliance
The greater the ability, the greater the territory. Since this is my territory, then all these things naturally belong to me."
Peter turned and walked toward the military industrial research and development area.
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His gaze swept over a row of unactivated [prowler armor].
Although the technical complexity of this armor seemed a bit crude compared to Tony Stark's Iron Man Suit.
It still held a certain research value.
Especially for Osborn Industries, this was ready-made material for reverse engineering.
Taking it back for Otto or Ivan to study might provide some inspiration.
"Collect."
Peter waved his hand grandly, as if performing a magictrick.
The system space opened.
That row of heavy exoskeleton armor instantly vanished into thin air, neatly stacked in the virtual grid of the system.
Immediately after,
Peter arrived in front of the refrigerator storing the 'gods gift'.
There were a few jars of that black, eerily writhing liquid remaining inside.
"The power of a 'beast'? Or perhaps some product of dark magic alchemy?"
Peter looked at the liquids through the glass.
Although this stuff was sinister, he not only had the system but also Dr. Connors, this top biologist.
Taking this stuff back,
Perhaps they could decipher the principles of The Hand's power, or even develop a new type of enhancer.
"Taking it."
Several more jars of hazardous material disappeared without a trace.
After completing the physical plunder, Peter went to the laboratory's main control computer.
This computer stored Kingpin and The Hand's experimental data.
This included the design blueprints for the prowler armor, the experimental logs for the Black Sky project, and even some of Kingpin's money laundering records.
For an ordinary hacker,
Infiltrating an offline server of this level might take several hours.
But Peter raised his left hand and placed the bracelet against the host's data port.
"Accessing... Puppet uploaded."
"Firewall cracking progress: 10%... 50%... 100%."
On the screen,
Countless lines of code scrolled wildly, all transforming into a green torrent, surging into Peter's bracelet through the data cable.
"Done."
Peter unplugged the bracelet and nodded with satisfaction, looking at the laboratory that had been mostly emptied.
"These things now belong to the Parker family."
...
Fisk Tower, top floor.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows was the dazzling, diamond-like night view of Manhattan.
Overlooking from this height, the entire New York seemed to be submitting at his feet, and this tower was the throne.
In the luxurious business conference room,
Expensive cigar smoke and the mellow fragrance of aged whiskey permeated the air.
A black walnut conference table large enough to seat ten people occupied the center of the room.
Seated in the main position was the uncrowned king of this district—Wilson Fisk, the terrifying "Kingpin".
He wore a specially widened white suit and leaned on a cane with a diamond-studded head.
Although he looked like a bloated mountain of flesh,
Kingpin's small eyes, sunken deep in the fat, flickered with shrewd and dangerous light.
"Gentlemen, ladies."
Kingpin's voice was deep and resonant, carrying a commanding majesty.
"Hells Kitchen is just the beginning. As long as our plan succeeds, the map of the entire New York underworld will be redrawn."
"We will no longer be scattered sand, but a vast empire that even S.H.I.E.L.D. will have to treat with caution."
His voice echoed in the conference room, full of incitement.
Just as Peter had guessed, although Kingpin held sway in both the criminal and legitimate Worlds,
He was fundamentally still an ordinary person.
In this era where superhumans flew everywhere and aliens occasionally visited Earth,
Kingpin felt an unprecedented sense of crisis.
The previous cooperation with The Hand,
Although it brought Black Sky technology, it also left him constantly constrained by those insidious island nation ninjas.
In the face of those bizarre secret arts,
Kingpin, the ordinary "peak human," seemed somewhat inadequate.
To gain more say in future power struggles, he had to expand his territory.
And today was the crucial moment for Kingpin to integrate the major gangs of New York.
Every person present was a ruthless figure who could make the New York underworld tremble with a mere stomp of their foot.
To Kingpin's left sat his two top confidants.
One was an assassin wearing a tight suit with a Bullseyeemblem tattooed on his forehead—Bullseye.
He casually toyed with a playing card in his hand,
As if the next second he would turn that card into a deadly weapon.
The other was a refined man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a formal suit—Wesley.
As Kingpin's personal butler and accountant,
He calmly recorded every detail of the meeting, as if this were a regular corporation's shareholder assembly.
And on both sides of the long table
Were the underworld bosses invited this time.
Black Cat.
Walter Hardy.
He wore a tight black thief suit and sported a neatly trimmed beard. Although he was not young,
His eyes still held cunning and agility.
Black Cat was America's top master thief and the father of the famous anti-hero, 'Black Cat' Felicia Hardy.
The Jigsaw.
Billy Russo.
This was a man whose appearance alone made one unable to help but have nightmares.
His entire face looked like a ragged piece of cloth torn and haphazardly stitched back together, covered in hideous suture lines.
As the leader of The Jigsaw Gang,
His cruelty even made Kingpin look up to him.
Hammerhead.
This guy looked like a walking cartoon character, with an absurdly large, flat head like a steel plate.
It was rumored his skull had been replaced with high-strength alloy.
Its hardness was enough to punch through bulletproof glass, and he had once flipped a small car over with his head.
He was coarsely smoking a cigar, flicking the ash directly onto the expensive carpet.
Besides these ordinary people with unique skills,
There were a few truly superhuman criminals present.
Mister Negative.
Martin Li.
He looked like a gentle and elegant Asian gentleman, dressed in appropriate attire.
But the occasional flash of black and white light in his eyes
Betrayed the hidden power within him—the "Negative Force" capable of corroding hearts and manipulating energy.
Tombstone.
Lonnie Lincoln.
This was an albino Black man over two meters tall, his skin pale as lime and hard as granite.
He had a buzz cut, and his teeth were filed into sharp shark teeth; the whole person looked like a walking zombie.
Finally, there was a rare female underworld leader—Anaconda.
She had dazzling blonde hair and an extremely imposing physique, even stronger than the average bodybuilder champion.
She was a core member of the Serpent Society, and her arms had been modified, possessing a terrifying strangling force like a python.
The forces behind these individuals,
If gathered, would form a black torrent capable of subverting New York.
"Sounds good, Fisk."
Mister Negative tapped the table lightly, black and white energy dancing on his fingertips.
"If we can integrate resources, we will be much more composed when facing that meddlesome Daredevil."
"Not just Daredevil."
Hammerhead rumbled, slamming the table hard.
"Also that damn Spider-Man!"
"That bug who jumps everywhere has ruined three batches of my arms deals recently! If the alliance is formed, I want to be the first to wring his neck!"
When Spider-Man was mentioned,
The expressions of several bosses present turned gloomy.
Lately, that "friendly neighborhood" hero's enforcement style had become increasingly aggressive.
Especially after the nickname "Spider-Bully" spread,
Everyone had to be cautious when going out, fearing being taken away by an elbow from that red and blue spandex freak descending from the sky.
"Relax, everyone."
Kingpin raised his wine glass with a smile, the expression revealing confidence in controlling everything.
"As long as we join forces, even if S.H.I.E.L.D. arrives, Hells Kitchen will still be our home turf. As for Spider-Man..."
Just as Kingpin was about to elaborate on his grand blueprint for "how to hunt Spider-Man",
"Woo—woo—woo—"
A series of urgent, harsh alarms sounded without any warning, shattering the heated atmosphere of the conference room.
Everyone's movements paused for a second.
The smile on Kingpin's face froze, his brow tightly furrowed. The displeasure of having his speech interrupted caused fierce light to gleam in his eyes.