Uncle Miles' unexpected death cast a heavy shadow over the morning—and over Peter's heart.
It wasn't that he was particularly sad about the death of the Prowler.
By now, Peter's sense of morality had been deeply influenced by the Shadow Spider-Man.
The Prowler was never a good man. Maybe he hadn't committed any world-shaking crimes, but the bad things he'd done weren't few either.
For someone like that, Peter wouldn't kill him on purpose—but neither would he feel sorrow for his death.
Still, this thing called a "curse" or "fate"… kept pulling his thoughts, again and again, back to Aunt May.
If there was anyone close to him who might be "cursed," it could only be her.
Even so, while tragedy had struck this morning, there had also been a victory worth celebrating.
Shadow Spider-Man had taken down Scorpion—though not killed, Scorpion was effectively crippled. His battle armor had been torn apart by Penny.
In a way, that was its own kind of redemption.
From now on, MacDonald Gargan would no longer be under the control of that scorpion suit, causing chaos everywhere.
Afterward, Aunt May had thoughtfully called the psychiatric hospital.
Now, MacDonald Gargan had already been taken away in one of their vans.
As for Tombstone, after being beaten down and pinned by Spider-Ham, he never got back up again.
When the fight was over, the police—who'd arrived soon after—took him away.
As for proof of his crimes, Peter was sure that Kingpin must have plenty of it.
That was one of the ways Kingpin controlled his subordinates.
And Kingpin himself—didn't escape either.
He had planned to run.
But just as he tried, he was intercepted by Spider-Gwen, who had finished off a few gunmen and returned just in time.
The two were tangled in a fight when Peter, having just heard the bad news from Miles, arrived.
At a glance, Peter noticed the caliber of the gun in Kingpin's hand—it was the same as the bullet wound in the Prowler's chest!
Perhaps it was because of that connection…
Peter's mind flashed to Aunt May.
He thought: If someday Aunt May were killed by villains like this…
What kind of darkness would my world fall into then?
Rage surged within him.
Peter dropped from the sky, landing like a thunderbolt. With one punch, he smashed straight through the door of Kingpin's long black Lincoln—then swung that very door, slicing clean through Kingpin's right arm, the one holding the gun!
Spider-Gwen and Amazing Spider-Man B both froze in shock, staring at Peter as if seeing him for the first time.
Kingpin collapsed in pain, but to his credit, he didn't scream—he just clenched his jaw hard, breathing raggedly.
Peter stepped on his chest and leaned down."I heard," he said coldly, "that you like to crush people's skulls with your fists. That you enjoy ripping off car doors to cut people apart—just to show off your strength. So… why don't you try that feeling yourself?"
"Ahaha… cough, cough… Spider kid… kill me…" Kingpin coughed violently, the air forced out of his lungs by Peter's boot.
"Kill you?" Peter's lips curved into a cold smirk. "That'd be too easy for you. If I kill you, the world will only remember you as the great philanthropist Wilson Fisk."
Kingpin froze, realizing the meaning behind Peter's words. Fear began to creep into his face. "You… you…"
Peter leaned in closer until his masked face was only inches away, pressing nearly his full weight onto Kingpin's massive body.
Fortunately for him, Kingpin was built like a tank—he could barely breathe, but he wasn't dying yet.
Peter's voice came low and deliberate, each word heavy as stone:"I'm going to collect every piece of evidence of your crimes… and the crimes of those who protect you. One set for them… and one for the public. Tell me—what do you think they'll do to you then?"
"Will they cling to your so-called brotherhood, break you out, and stand up for you?"
"Or… will they push you off a cliff—before you have the chance to rat them out?"
Fear completely filled Kingpin's eyes. He stared at Peter, as if trying to see through the mirrored lenses of that mask—trying to glimpse the demon hiding beneath.
"No… no, no…"
Thwip—!
Peter shot a strand of webbing, pulling over a newspaper from the mailbox near the building entrance.
On the front page, the headline read:
"Local Philanthropist Mr. Wilson Fisk Donates $100,000 Worth of Lab Equipment to Midtown Science High School. This marks Mr. Fisk's fourth major charitable donation this year. Truly remarkable! Let us salute Mr. Fisk!"
Peter glanced at the headline, sneered, then slapped the paper onto Kingpin's face.
"Enjoy the article, Mr. Philanthropist," Peter said coldly. "It might just be your last one. Or maybe your final headline will read:
'Former Philanthropist Wilson Fisk Revealed as the Infamous Crime Lord of Hell's Kitchen—Mastermind Behind Loan Sharks, Drug Trafficking, and Human Smuggling!'"
Smack!
The newspaper fit Kingpin's huge face perfectly.
It plastered right over his features—positioned just so that the headline was centered before his eyes.
But no matter how wide Kingpin's eyes opened, his pupils shrank in horror, seeing only that final word—
"Philanthropist."
Black letters on white paper—yet they seemed to drip with blood.The most ironic testament this world could offer.
Smack!
Peter shot webbing again, sealing the paper to Kingpin's face, wrapping him tightly from head to toe. He even had the grim courtesy to web up the stump of Kingpin's arm to stop the bleeding.
When he was done, Peter hoisted the man up like a sack of trash—or a squirming chick—and tossed him into the trunk of the long Lincoln.
Then, with a cold expression, he got into the car himself.
He was heading straight to Fisk Tower. He'd gather as much evidence as possible, then deliver both the evidence and Kingpin to the police.
That way, even if Fisk tried something during the process, he'd have no chance to escape.
And knowing what he knew of Fisk's power and resources… Peter didn't doubt that the man could pull it off.
So this time—Peter would strike like thunder, and make sure it ended once and for all!
Not far away, Spider-Gwen had watched everything from start to finish, her eyes glinting.
She'd had her powers for almost two years now, and had been Spider-Woman for nearly one. But deep down, she'd always been running from it—using her powers only when she had no choice.
It wasn't until her childhood friend, Peter Parker, died because of her that she truly awakened—deciding to use her powers for good.
But even then, her actions were always reactive, never proactive.
Now, seeing this Peter's decisive ruthlessness—it felt like a door had opened to an entirely new world.
When faced with a problem, solve it head-on…
Maybe that wasn't such a bad way to live.
Spider-Gwen blinked, staring at the long Lincoln in front of her, curious about what Peter would do next.
But for a long while… nothing happened.
Even Amazing Spider-Man B, arriving from the distance, glanced at her in confusion.
Then, at last, the car window rolled down. Peter's head popped out.
"Uh… does anyone know how to start this thing?"
-----------------------
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(End of Chapter)