"I thought you were strictly nocturnal—no way you'd show up in daylight."
In an empty low-rise in Hell's Kitchen, Black Cat—crop top and hot pants—sat in a chair and eyed the fully kitted Batman.
"Also, dressed like that in broad daylight—looking for a fight? Heads up: I'm not sleeping with you."
"I'm here to talk lawyers," Batman said, his face unreadable beneath the mask.
"I'm already stressing over that." Black Cat sighed. "It started fine, but the second they hear my target is Kingpin, every lawyer bolts."
"Cowards."
"We need someone brave enough and good enough to take him on," Batman said.
"I know." She rolled her eyes. "You care about this that much?"
"No. I need a lawyer too," Batman said. "To help a scientist sue Oscorp."
"So Oscorp really ticked you off." She smiled. "I'm dying to know who's under that suit. Don't tell me you're that new NYC rumor—the 'vampire'?"
She moved to the window, leaning out to watch the hurried foot traffic below.
"Every day we delay finding counsel, Fisk gets a day closer to laundering every dollar. Once he's fully clean—rebranded as a respectable businessman—bringing him down gets a lot harder."
Silence behind her.
She glanced back—Batman was gone.
"...I'm not that ugly. Why won't he ever stick around?" Bored, she popped the window and slipped out.
…
Manhattan NYPD precinct: George Stacy was overseeing officers as they loaded the Squid-Man into a transport truck.
The vehicle had been specially modified: electrified walls in the cargo hold and reinforced plating to prevent an escape en route.
Thanks to the mystery man's tips and Aug's miraculously recovered victim list, the case was moving fast.
After today's routine hearing, barring surprises, the Squid-Man would be headed for death row.
Stacy slammed the doors, waved the convoy on, and the trucks rolled out toward the courthouse.
"Dad, is that squid guy so dangerous you need an armed escort?"
Beside him, a girl in a pale yellow top and plaid skirt asked, curious. She had long ash-blonde hair and porcelain skin; a few wind-tossed strands across her brow only made her features look more like a painting.
"Gwen, I told you not to come by when I'm working," Stacy frowned.
"I was just curious—and to ask if you're home for dinner." Gwen Stacy's mouth puckered in a tiny sulk.
"Of course. Thanks to that mystery guy dumping crooks at our doorstep, I haven't gotten off early in days." He couldn't help smiling at her pout.
"Really?" Her pout flipped to secret glee. "So who is this mystery guy, anyway?"
Pressed, Stacy gave her the short version of the last few days.
"Sounds like he's another well-meaning citizen, like Spider-Man," Gwen mused.
She meant it offhand, but Stacy's face hardened. He met her eyes.
"Neither he nor Spider-Man is some well-meaning citizen."
"Spider-Man thinks a mask lets him enforce the law. We race to calls and find shattered glass and crooks strung up in webs. Sure, that's good as outcomes go—but he works alone, and the headlines are all about him.
"When he's around, resignations spike across NYPD precincts. Officers feel useless. 'New York has Spider-Man; cops just clean up.'"
"Keep that up and this city becomes a criminal playground. How many crimes can he handle at once?"
Gwen shrank at his tone. "Then… what about the mystery guy?"
"He's a terrorist indulging in violence under the banner of fighting crime," Stacy said flatly.
Assistant Aug happened by and jumped in: "Should we issue a BOLO? Put out a warrant on the mystery man?"
Stacy shook his head. "We don't know his name, his face—hell, whether he's even human. Yesterday's perp swore he's a vampire.
"You and I know that's unlikely, but a wanted notice would just spook the public."
He watched the convoy vanish down the street, then headed back inside.
High above, Batman stood at a rooftop edge, eyes on the trucks below. Only after the Squid-Man was caged and carried into the courthouse without incident did he slip away.
…
Back at the shipyard, he kept the suit on and pulled up a terminal to dig into "Silver Sable."
Black Cat's lawyer hunt hadn't progressed. This couldn't drag on. As she'd said: once Fisk's money is fully laundered, chances to topple him shrink fast.
As head of a security company, Silver Sable would have underworld ties—and might know counsel bold enough to take on both Fisk and Oscorp.
He didn't know her real name, so he did what had worked before: sketch by hand, then run image search.
"Silver Sable, real name Silver Sablinova. Father led the government's 'Wild Pack.' After his death the unit became a private mercenary outfit, and Silver founded Sable International, serving as chair and CEO…"