For Candace Roberts, life these days was nothing short of extraordinary. Her career, which had once felt stagnant and directionless under J. Jonah Jameson's profit-driven leadership, had taken a dramatic turn for the better.
Since Shadow Magina took over The Daily Bugle and Jack Morvayne stepped in as the new CEO, the company had undergone a complete transformation. Gone were the days of sensationalist headlines and sloppy reporting aimed solely at extorting money from readers. Now, The Daily Bugle was operating as a true news organization, one that prioritized integrity, accuracy, and respect.
Every journalist and reporter at the company was now dedicated to getting the story right. Information was meticulously fact-checked and confirmed before being published. Sensitive topics were handled with the care and seriousness they deserved, and the public was starting to take notice. In just a short span of time, The Daily Bugle had gone from a tabloid rag to a respected source of news, and the change was palpable, praises can be heard on the streets.
The sales figures were slowly climbing, and the reviews were becoming increasingly positive. Even other news agencies had even begun to cover The Daily Bugle's remarkable turnaround, further cementing its newfound reputation. For Candace, it was a dream come true. She had always believed in the power of journalism to inform and inspire, and now, she was finally part of a team that shared her vision.
Today, Candace was on her way to The Daily Bugle's new headquarters, a gleaming 10-story building in downtown Manhattan. Thanks to Shadow Magina's seemingly bottomless purse, the company had purchased the entire building, complete with a prominent signboard at the top that proudly displayed The Daily Bugle logo. It was a far cry from the cramped, outdated offices they had worked in before, and Candace couldn't help but feel a surge of pride every time she walked through the doors.
But as she entered the building that morning, she was met with chaos. The newsroom was a hive of activity, with people rushing back and forth, shouting instructions, and scrambling to get things done. It was barely 8 a.m., and the place already looked like a battlefield.
"Get the writers ready!" one of the managing editors shouted, his voice carrying over the din.
"Is the online news studio ready? Well, get the set ready then!" another editor barked, frustration evident in his tone.
Candace frowned, her brow furrowing as she took in the scene.
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice cutting through the noise. But before anyone could answer, a familiar voice boomed across the room.
"CAN ANYONE TELL ME WHERE CANDACE IS??" Robbie Robertson stood in front of his office, his hands on his hips and his expression a mix of frustration and urgency. The entire office seemed to freeze for a moment, all eyes turning to him.
"Robbie!" Candace called out, raising her hand to get his attention. "I'm here! What's going on?"
Robbie's face lit up with relief as he spotted her. "Thank God you're here, Candace. Come into my office. Now."
Candace hurried over, her mind racing with questions. The chaos in the newsroom was unlike anything she had seen before, and she couldn't begin to guess what had caused it. As she stepped into Robbie's office, he closed the door behind her, shutting out the noise from outside.
"What's happening Robbie? The entire office looks like they were hit by a hurricane," Candace asked as she put down her bags and coat.
"So, listen," Robbie began, his tone serious as he motioned for her to sit down.
"We got another tip. It's from the same source as the White Rider MC story we broke last week. An email came in last night, straight to our official address. And just so you don't panic or anything… I want you to sit down and read it. Now."
Candace's eyes widened as Robbie turned his monitor toward her, the email open and waiting. She leaned forward, her heart pounding as she began to read. Whatever was in that email, she knew it was going to change everything—again.
Candace Roberts stared at the email on Robbie Robertson's monitor, her eyes scanning the lines of text with growing disbelief. The subject line alone was enough to make her heart race: "The Truth About Arthur Maxwell." But it was the attached documents—pages upon pages of evidence, lists of crimes, and damning details—that left her reeling.
"Hold on a minute, Robbie," Candace said, her voice tight with shock. "This is about Arthur Maxwell? The Arthur Maxwell?"
Robbie nodded; his expression grim. "Keep reading, Candace. Read it all."
Candace did as she was told, her eyes darting across the screen as she absorbed the information. The email laid out a horrifying truth: Arthur Maxwell, the star District Attorney of New York, was not the hero the public had believed him to be. He was a human trafficker, a kidnapper, a pedophile, and a high-ranking member of a secret supremacist group. The evidence was overwhelming—photos, financial records, witness testimonies, and even video footage. It was all there, meticulously documented and impossible to ignore.
"Who would've thought…" Candace muttered, her voice trembling. "Arthur Maxwell, a massive scumbag. A monster hiding behind a mask of justice."
She leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. At one point, she had even written an article praising Maxwell, hailing him as a champion of the people. The thought made her stomach churn. How could she have been so blind? How could anyone be so blind?
"No one could've known, Candace, even I thought the guy were straight as an arrow, these whole time" Robbie calming down Candace, knowing that she once praised the man to high heaven.
"So, what does Jack say about this?" Candace asked, turning to Robbie.
"He called me a few minutes ago," Robbie replied. "He said to report it as it is. The police already found Maxwell's body, but they're refusing to make any comments."
Candace snorted, her lips curling into a smirk. "Of course they are. Look at how many names are on that list. Half of New York's upper echelon is implicated in this mess. They're going to keep quiet for as long as they can."
Robbie nodded; his expression serious. "So, we can do as much as we want with this, right?"
Candace's smirk widened. "Jack says it's good to go. Let's get it out there."
With the green light from Jack Morvayne, the top brass at The Daily Bugle wasted no time. The newsroom exploded into action, every journalist, editor, and staff member working at full capacity. The online site and the print edition were both being prepared to break the story, each platform offering its own take on the shocking revelations about Arthur Maxwell.
Candace, meanwhile, was preparing to host Candace Reports, the online news show that had become a flagship program for The Daily Bugle's digital platform. As she sat in the studio, the cameras rolling, she took a deep breath and began.
"I once hailed Arthur Maxwell as a revolutionist, a true warrior for justice," she said, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "But today, I come to learn that I was wrong. Dead wrong. And just like me, I'm sure most of you out there will share the same feeling when you learn what this dirtbag did behind the scenes. Subscribers, viewers, stay tuned as we take a deep dive into the real Arthur 'Art' Maxwell."
Her delivery was flawless, her tone a perfect blend of outrage and professionalism. The show would be a bombshell, exposing Maxwell's crimes to the world and forcing the authorities to confront the truth. But even as she spoke, Candace couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The story was bigger than Maxwell—it was about the system that had allowed him to thrive, the people who had protected him, and the lives he had destroyed.
The dim light in the warehouse barely cut through the morning haze as I drove my fists into the heavy bag, each strike landing with precision. The rhythmic thud echoed through the space, a steady counterpoint to the thoughts racing through my mind. This was routine—necessary, grounding. A moment of control in a world that was anything but.
Magina's voice crackled in my earpiece, sharp with frustration. "It seems the police have chosen to cover everything."
Not surprising. I exhaled, keeping my breathing steady as I threw another punch. "Not really shocking. The FBI took the folders, didn't they?"
"Yes." She didn't bother hiding the irritation in her voice. "They're aiming to use the list for their own benefit. It seems they want to use it as a bargaining chip for their own agenda. A predictable move, but frustrating nonetheless."
I paused, wiping sweat from my brow with a towel. "Don't be sad, Magina. That's how people are. Self-serving, corrupt, willing to look the other way when it suits them." I let out a slow breath, walking toward my desk. "But there are still good people out there. They're just harder to find."
Sitting down, I let my fingers fly over the keyboard, pulling up the files Magina had compiled. The evidence against Maxwell barely scratched the surface. The real cancer was the system that had shielded him—the judges, lawyers, politicians, and officers who had made his crimes possible.
Since they've made their decision, it's time for me to make mine.
I wasn't going to play their game. I wasn't going to wait for the system to do the right thing. They had made their choice, and now I was making mine.
"Magina," I said, my eyes locked on the screen. "Prepare everything. We're going public. Not just with Maxwell's crimes, but with everything. Every name, every crime, every connection. If they won't expose the truth, we will."
Magina's digital form flickered onto one of the monitors, her expression serious. "Understood, Father. I'll begin the preparations immediately."
Leaning back in my chair, I let my mind race with the possibilities. The fight was far from over. No, it was just beginning. And when the truth came out, it was going to shake the world to its core.