Elsewhere…
Rhino's body had been secured and transported by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.
Agent Phil Coulson stood in front of Director Nick Fury, delivering his report. "Director, we've completed facial recognition and background analysis on the girl who called herself a 'Knightress.' Do you want someone to approach her?"
Nick Fury barely looked up. "Send someone to check her out. Keep it low-profile."
He didn't think much of Jessica. Just another enhanced teenager. He'd seen hundreds—mutants, Inhumans, aliens. Some of them could level buildings. Jessica didn't even register as a major threat—yet.
Coulson continued, "Should we bring Natasha in on this?"
Fury raised his one good eye and stared at him. "Coulson, do you want to waste Romanoff's time babysitting high schoolers?"
Coulson coughed lightly. "Right. Of course not."
"The girl's name is Jessica Kadere. She's a student at Midtown High," Fury said, scanning the file. "She's strong, yeah, but we've handled stronger. What's her estimated output?"
"Conservative figures put her strength output over 800 pounds. That's Captain America-level baseline." Coulson sounded impressed. "But Rhino was still torn apart—so whoever did that is in another league entirely."
Fury nodded grimly. "Then forget Jessica for now. Keep an eye on the one they call Black Spider."
Coulson tapped his tablet and pulled up the footage. "This guy's an enigma. Doesn't show up on thermal. No reliable visual ID. And the tech in his suit? It's blocking every type of surveillance we have."
Fury narrowed his gaze. "And yet, every time Ghost Spider shows up, he's not far behind."
"That's right." Coulson nodded. "Also, Jessica recently started a Ghost Spider fan club. Might be coincidence, but there's another name on the roster—Skye. She's already flagged in our Rising Tide surveillance net."
"I thought she was still under passive observation," Fury said.
"She is, for now. But the club might be a cover for something bigger, or just dumb luck."
Fury gave a dry smile. "You trying to talk yourself into a vacation, Coulson?"
"Only if you insist, sir."
Fury handed him a tablet. "Not yet. You've got a new assignment. Handle this first."
Coulson sighed. "Copy that. And the Ghost Spider club?"
"We'll send someone subtle. Have Barbara Morse take a look—she's good at blending in."
....
Weeks later…
The disappearance of Norman Osborn's body had left the public rattled. Rumors of government conspiracies and cloning projects were already brewing in internet forums.
The Osborn Corporation, meanwhile, was collapsing under its own weight. With Norman gone and his heir Harry still in high school, the board was splintered. Shareholders pulled out. Research divisions halted funding—most notably the Lizard Gene project by Dr. Curt Connors.
Peter Parker had been spending more time with Dr. Connors, trying to keep things afloat, or checking in on Harry at the Osborn building. The Ghost Spider fan club was the last thing on his mind lately. Ned grumbled but understood.
Jack Kadere, however, wasn't too concerned with Osborn's corporate downfall.
He had his hands full in Hell's Kitchen.
...
Kingpin, the infamous Wilson Fisk, was now in Jack's grasp—though not dead. Jack had decimated his inner circle of supercriminals, tearing through thugs and enhanced mercs like tissue paper. Only Fisk remained, bruised and humiliated.
"Think of it this way," Jack said, cracking his knuckles, "you're not worthless. You're a perfect villain spawn point."
He walked away, leaving Kingpin groaning in the alley behind Josie's Bar.
There was a method to Jack's madness. Keeping Fisk alive meant new enemies would come to replace the fallen. New villains. New battles. New rewards.
And the system's rewards were always worth it.
After all, he'd gotten the Weather Control ability from the Rhino fight—a rare power that gave him control over localized storms, wind gusts, and even lightning discharges. The more dangerous the opponent, the better the loot.
He needed to grow stronger. Fast.
News of Tony Stark's disappearance in the Middle East had broken two days ago, and Jack had a gut feeling: this was just the beginning. The "Purple Grimace" wasn't here yet, but time was ticking.
...
Beep—
His phone buzzed.
Caller ID: Skye.
He picked up. "Hello? Skye?"
Her voice came through, crackling slightly. "Jack... I dropped out of school."
Jack's brow furrowed. "Wait, what?"