Harry made his way up to the top floor, where his office was located. Just as he reached the door, he noticed a faint light flickering inside. Leaning quietly against the frame, he tilted his head to peer through the narrow gap.
The Osborn Building, one of the two tallest towers in Manhattan, gleamed under the moonlight. From his vantage point, Harry could clearly see a graceful figure with flowing white curls — someone who was currently rummaging through Norman Osborn's old desk drawers. She pulled out a few valuable items, tucking them into the deep neckline of her tight black outfit, before sweeping the remaining contents onto the floor.
That silhouette, the way she moved — Harry immediately guessed who it was.
With a sharp click, Harry flicked on the lights. The woman froze like a startled cat.
"Osborn Treasure Hunt, huh? Having fun, Felicia?" Harry said playfully, lowering his left hand from the light switch and aiming the pistol he'd taken from the gangster directly at her.
"Oh no, I've been caught," Felicia purred, her voice smooth and teasing — completely different from her usual calm, restrained tone.
Harry stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until the cold barrel of his gun pressed against the crown of her head.
"Tell me who you are — and what you're doing here," Harry demanded sharply. Someone had just broken into his stronghold — and to make things worse, it was someone he knew.
Felicia turned slowly, the sleek black leather of her suit gleaming under the lights. In her hand, she held Norman's digital organizer.
"Oh? Is this what you're after?" she asked, smirking.
Harry reached forward and took the organizer from her, slipping it into his pocket.
"How did you figure out it was me?" Felicia tilted her head curiously.
"Just a hunch," Harry replied. He couldn't exactly tell her it was because he remembered this scene from his past life.
"Now, tell me — why are you here? What's your purpose?" he pressed, quietly activating the system to scan her.
Name: Felicia Hardy
Age: 23
Condition: Healthy
Ability: Enhanced Physical Attributes (30)
Items: None
"It's Kingpin," Felicia said suddenly. "He sent me. He wants to take back what's rightfully his." Her voice rose near the end — and before Harry could react, she moved.
In one fluid motion, her right hand shot forward, disarming him in an instant. The gun was out of his hand before he even realized it. Too fast — too smooth — her movements almost blurred.
She spun gracefully and pressed herself against him like a lover, her breath brushing his ear. If this were a romantic scene, Harry might have embraced her. In fact, he did — but not out of passion. He was trying to restrain her.
It didn't work.
"Ah!" Felicia cried out suddenly — and then, with surprising strength, flipped Harry clean over her shoulder.
"Ugh!" Harry hit the desk hard and rolled off onto the floor, wincing in pain.
Felicia straddled him in a flash, snatching up the fallen pistol and aiming it squarely at his face.
"Now, you'll listen to me," she said coolly.
Harry grinned despite the ache in his back. "At your service, ma'am," he said through a pained laugh. He hadn't held back on purpose — he really just lacked experience. His raw strength was immense, enough to overpower someone like the Punisher, but against a trained fighter like Felicia, who matched him physically and had real skill, he couldn't gain the upper hand.
"Get up. Take me to Norman's underground lab," Felicia ordered, pressing the barrel against his head as she stood.
"Alright," Harry said lightly.
He picked up the organizer again and placed it on the desk, activating the secret elevator to the underground lab — right in front of Felicia. Normally, he wouldn't need such theatrics; both Max and Dr. Connors had full clearance, just like him. But what he was really doing now was discreetly sending a signal to the lab — a silent alert.
Clack—clack—clack—
The elevator to the underground lab opened.
"Move," Felicia ordered, pushing him inside.
The elevator shuddered and began to descend.
"Felicia," Harry said casually, ignoring the gun at his head, "you said my father had something that belonged to Kingpin. What exactly was it?"
"You'd better not ask questions you don't want answers to," Felicia replied with a smirk, her tone dismissive.
"Suit yourself," Harry shrugged.
Ding.
The elevator doors slid open into the darkness. The lab was empty, silent, and unlit.
"You first," Felicia said sharply, motioning him forward with the gun.
Harry stepped out, scanning the dark room.
"See? Nothing," he said with a faint smirk.
Felicia hesitated a moment, then stepped out behind him.
"Was that so hard?" Harry began —
And then, in a flash, a streak of blue-violet lightning crackled across the room, striking Felicia squarely in the chest.
"It seems we really should be cautious," Harry said dryly, watching her fall twitching to the ground.
The lights flickered back on, revealing Max Dillon — Electro — emerging from the shadows, electricity still dancing around his fingers.
"Harry," came another voice. Dr. Curt Connors stepped out of his office, blinking in confusion.
"Yeah," Harry said, nodding to both of them.
"Now then…" Harry pulled up a chair and sat down, gazing at Felicia, who was slowly regaining consciousness. "Felicia, it's your turn to answer questions. You'll speak when I ask."
"What does Kingpin want?"
At that name, Dr. Connors stiffened. His pupils contracted sharply, and he stepped back, bumping into the metal table with a clang.
"What's wrong, Doctor?" Harry asked, glancing at him — but Connors looked visibly uneasy.
"You…" Harry started.
"He clearly knows Kingpin," Felicia interrupted, her voice biting as she looked up from the floor.
Dr. Connors sighed deeply, removing his glasses. "Yes… I know him."
He sat down slowly, wiping the lenses with trembling hands.
"Years ago, I worked with him. It was part of a project — the Super Soldier Serum. The same one that created Captain America." He smiled faintly, as if remembering something distant. "I was thrilled when I learned what it was… but the experiments were going badly."
"Because of human testing?" Harry asked. Felicia, now fully awake, also turned toward him.
"Yes," Connors admitted quietly. "The serum was successfully replicated, but it was unstable — dangerous. Human trials carried tremendous risks. So I fled the lab, taking the data with me. After many close calls, your father found me — and offered me protection."
Connors looked up at Harry, his expression heavy with nostalgia.
"Through your father, I learned who was behind the experiment — Wilson Fisk, Kingpin himself. New York's most powerful crime lord."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, weathered USB drive, the metal casing nearly worn smooth.
"These files contain everything. Some of your father's spider venom research even borrowed from this data. Take it, Harry. If things go bad… give it to Kingpin."
Connors reluctantly handed him the drive.
"Give it to me!" Felicia suddenly shouted, stretching out her hand desperately.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "And why would I do that?"
"I… I need it," she stammered, lowering her hand. "To trade with Kingpin… for my father."
Her voice faltered, her bravado fading. She knew as well as Harry did that trade was never going to happen.