The rooftops of Hell's Kitchen were familiar now. Not comforting, but known. Like the muscle memory of a bad habit Peter couldn't quit.
He perched on the ledge of a faded brick building, eyes watching the city below. Lights flickered across street corners. Garbage fluttered near a half-empty bus stop. Distant sirens howled—far enough not to worry about. For now.
Footsteps landed behind him—clean, controlled, deliberate.
"You're early," Matt said.
Peter didn't turn.
"You said ten. I got bored."
Daredevil stepped forward, boots crunching lightly over the gravel rooftop. His red suit blended into the night, twin batons clipped across his back. He looked as unreadable as ever—scarred, silent, always calculating.
"Thanks for coming," Matt said.
Peter turned his head slightly. "You've got that tone. The 'I need your help but won't like how you do it' tone."
"It's not about like," Matt said. "It's about doing what's right. And I can't do this alone."
Peter stood up fully now, rolling his shoulders.
"Let me guess. Something worse than petty thugs?"
Matt nodded once.
"Human traffickers."
Peter's expression didn't change, but something behind the lenses of his mask shifted.
"That's a step above your usual fare."
"They're organized," Matt said. "Smarter than the average crew. They don't operate from the streets—they move through licensed shell businesses. Laundromats. Warehouses. A halfway house registered to a fake Catholic charity."
"Charming," Peter muttered.
Matt reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a folded printout. He handed it to Peter.
"These are the key spots. I've been watching them for weeks. I've recorded transactions, deliveries, suspicious transports. Last week, I watched a van unload five girls into a back door near 39th. They didn't come out."
Peter didn't reply. He read the sheet quietly. Names. Dates. Plate numbers. Faces.
"They rotate locations," Matt continued. "And they move their victims fast—across boroughs, sometimes across state lines. I don't have the reach to hit all their fronts in one night. But I've got a window."
Peter folded the paper back and tucked it away.
"You want to take them all down?"
Matt nodded. "In one coordinated sweep. But I need backup. Silent. Fast. Controlled."
Peter stared out at the skyline.
"You want them to face justice right?"
"I want them in court."
"That's a tall order."
Matt's jaw tightened. "They deserve to face the law."
Peter looked back at him now.
"That's what I'd usually do."
"That's why I'm asking you, this time."
The two stood in silence for a moment, only the sound of traffic rising from the streets below.
Peter finally nodded.
"Fine. But this is your turf. Your rules."
"And your web," Matt added. "I don't have the range to subdue all of them quickly. I'll handle the east side. You take the south and western routes. There's a warehouse near 47th—my guess is that's the hub."
Peter narrowed his eyes behind the mask.
"And you're sure this isn't a trap?"
Matt's voice was steady. "They don't know I've been watching. Yet."
"Then you're lucky."
Matt smirked faintly. "Not really."
Peter crouched near the edge of the roof again, looking down at the city.
"You know they won't stop, right?" he said. "Even if they go to court. Even if they're sentenced. Guys like this? They adapt. Find new fronts. New people."
"That doesn't mean we stop trying."
"No," Peter agreed quietly. "It means we pick which days we pretend they're human."
Matt didn't flinch.
He just did the work.
"I'll give you a comms channel," Peter said. "Private. No recordings. One-use encryption."
"Good," Matt replied. "We move tomorrow. Midnight."
Peter nodded and turned to leave. He paused after a few steps.
"One last thing."
"Yeah?"
"Jones," Peter said. "If you see her, tell her to stay clear of this. Too much heat."
Matt hesitated.
"I already did. She said she's not getting involved. Yet."
"That's not comforting."
Matt gave a dry smile. "She never is."
Peter shot a web line and vaulted into the night, vanishing between buildings.
Matt stood alone on the rooftop for a long moment before turning toward the east and disappearing into the dark.
The hunt would begin tomorrow.
And for one night, Spider-Man and Daredevil would share the weight of justice—whether or not either of them believed in it.