In a nondescript industrial building across town, several criminals gathered in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse space. The Prowler unceremoniously dumped the unconscious Green Goblin onto the concrete floor, then turned to face Bullseye with his mechanical hand extended expectantly.
"Give me my money, and I'm done with this operation," he declared without hesitation.
The day's confrontation had revealed the vast gap between his capabilities and those of truly superhuman opponents. While the Prowler possessed no natural powers, relying entirely on technological augmentation that looked impressive but proved inadequate against Spider-Man's abilities.
Having witnessed the web-slinger's true strength firsthand, he had no desire to continue involvement in increasingly dangerous operations.
One million dollars was substantial compensation—more than his police officer brother would earn in an entire career. Why risk everything for uncertain additional rewards?
Neither Bullseye nor Kingpin objected to the Prowler's withdrawal from their team. Honestly, they had never placed much value on criminals who lacked superhuman abilities. The Prowler's equipment might provide overwhelming advantages against ordinary people, but it was essentially useless against opponents like Spider-Man.
Since he intended to leave, paying him immediately would demonstrate that Kingpin honored his financial commitments—a reputation that helped maintain discipline among his criminal associates.
Besides, with the Green Goblin now in custody, they would soon have access to four enhancement serum doses. If Stromm could be persuaded to share the Green Goblin armor technology, they might even create an entire squadron of enhanced operatives.
With such overwhelming force at his disposal, even Spider-Man would be forced to surrender or face annihilation.
"Too bad someone chose to withdraw prematurely," Bullseye observed with obvious mockery beneath his mask, then turned his attention to their remaining ally. "He's missing an opportunity to meet the underground emperor himself."
Bullseye grabbed one of the Green Goblin's legs and began dragging the unconscious form toward the elevator, treating Stromm like a sack of garbage rather than a valuable asset.
Kraven followed with predatory curiosity. He was genuinely interested in meeting the legendary Kingpin—a man whose reputation extended far beyond New York's criminal underworld.
Both men entered the elevator simultaneously. Bullseye produced a small device and pressed it against the control panel, causing the previously restricted elevator to roar to life and ascend toward the building's uppermost floors.
With a soft chime, the elevator reached the penthouse level.
The doors opened slowly, revealing a space shrouded in deliberately intimidating darkness.
Darkness posed no obstacle to Kraven's enhanced senses. He could see the scene before him with perfect clarity—and what he saw was genuinely impressive.
The space resembled a palace throne room more than a conventional office, with towering columns supporting a vaulted ceiling and an ornate red carpet extending the entire length of the hall.
At the far end, behind a massive gilded table, Wilson Fisk sat on what could only be described as a throne. His white suit provided stark contrast against the dark surroundings, while his enormous frame radiated an aura of absolute authority.
This was a man who had positioned himself as the shadow ruler of New York's criminal empire, a king presiding over every vice and sin within his domain.
Kraven's hunter instincts immediately identified Fisk as potential prey—though perhaps not quite as intriguing as the Spider-Man he truly sought.
His muscles tensed reflexively, though he kept his claws retracted for now.
Kingpin rose from his throne and descended the steps with measured dignity, while Bullseye carelessly hurled the Green Goblin forward like discarded refuse.
Fisk didn't even glance at Stromm's unconscious form. Failures didn't warrant his attention—if not for the serum, he wouldn't have bothered with the Green Goblin at all.
Fisk then turned his attention to Kraven with professional courtesy. "I believe this is our first meeting, Hunter."
Without waiting for a response, he continued, "It's unfortunate that the Prowler chose to abandon our alliance, but his departure isn't critical to our success. I understand your primary objective is hunting Spider-Man, but you witnessed his capabilities today. His strength exceeded all our expectations."
Kingpin's voice echoed through the cavernous space with calculated authority. "Previously, we underestimated Spider-Man, dismissing him as a minor irritation. Now I recognize that error. His superhuman abilities are truly extraordinary."
"However," he continued with growing confidence, "we'll soon acquire multiple enhancement serum. I trust you won't object to hunting as part of a coordinated pack?"
Fisk was anticipating the arrival of four new Green Goblins—enough enhanced operatives to overwhelm even Spider-Man's remarkable abilities.
Kraven showed no concern about group tactics. Pack hunting was common among apex predators in the natural world, and he had no ego-driven need to face dangerous prey alone.
"The strongest hunters know when to work together," Kraven replied with a predatory smile. "I am interested to see what these enhancement serums can accomplish."
At that moment, Stromm stirred with a low groan, slowly regaining consciousness while breathing heavily. He pressed one hand to his head, trying to clear the persistent ringing in his ears while fragmented memories of Spider-Man's devastating assault flickered through his mind.
Gradually, he realized he had escaped immediate danger. Kingpin's imposing presence seemed almost comforting compared to the courthouse battle.
"Kingpin, thank you for rescuing me!" he declared with a twisted smile, the flawed serum continuing to destabilize his emotional responses.
But Fisk showed no warmth in return. His massive hand shot out to grab Stromm's throat, lifting the Green Goblin off the ground with casual ease.
"Stromm, now you can tell me where the serum is located."
Although Kingpin possessed no superhuman abilities, he had trained his body to the absolute limits of human potential. Beneath his expensive suit lay not useless fat, but densely packed muscle capable of crushing bone.
"I'll tell you, Kingpin," Stromm gasped, his face reddening as his airway was compressed.
He had no intention of breaking his agreement with Fisk. Beyond Kingpin's obvious physical capabilities, the crime lord's influence and resources made betrayal impossibly dangerous. This throne room might appear empty, but Stromm suspected it was rigged with numerous hidden defenses.
Satisfied with this cooperation, Kingpin released his grip.
"The serum, cough, the location of the serum is—"
Stromm dropped to his knees, gasping for breath while preparing to reveal the information that would secure his freedom.
Kingpin leaned forward expectantly, his heart racing with anticipation. Even after giving two doses to the Hand as agreed, he would retain two samples—enough to create multiple Green Goblins.
But his ambitions extended far beyond such limited applications. Fisk intended to analyze the serum's composition and replicate it on an industrial scale, creating an army of enhanced operatives that would secure his dominance over New York's underworld and potentially expand his influence nationwide.
He waited for Stromm to provide the crucial location data.
Instead of information, Kingpin received a piercing scream of agony.
"AHHHHH!"
The Green Goblin collapsed as if struck by lightning, his body convulsing uncontrollably while electrical spasms wracked his enhanced physiology.
Even Kingpin was startled by the sudden transformation, initially assuming this was some kind of deception. But Bullseye's sharp eyes detected blue toxin spreading beneath Stromm's skin, creating an eerie luminescent pattern.
"Stay away from him!" Bullseye shouted, positioning himself between Kingpin and the writhing figure while kicking the Green Goblin away from them.
The torture was mercifully brief. Within moments, Stromm's breathing stopped entirely, his dilated pupils staring sightlessly at the ceiling.
After a tense silence, Bullseye confirmed the obvious. "He's dead."
Kraven knelt beside the corpse and tore away portions of Stromm's clothing, revealing the neurotoxin's spread throughout his circulatory system. Nearly half the Green Goblin's body had turned an unnatural blue color, the poison following his blood ships like a grotesque spider web until it reached his heart.
Using his enhanced senses, Kraven pressed his fingers against various points on the corpse, then drew a primitive hunting knife from his belt and made a precise incision.
The blade extracted a small disc-shaped device.
"It appears our other spider has venomous fangs," he observed with professional admiration.
Based on his experience, Kraven knew the original Spider-Man wouldn't kill anyone. Therefore, only one conclusion was possible: the mysterious Prime had assassinated the Green Goblin.
"No wonder Prime never appeared during the courthouse battle," Kraven continued with growing respect. "He never intended to let the Green Goblin survive from the beginning."
The hunter examined the neural device with genuine curiosity. Such precise, technological killing methods impressed him—it showed planning, patience, and a willingness to make difficult decisions.
"This Prime is a more dangerous predator than I initially believed," Kraven murmured. "Perhaps he would make worthier prey than the other Spider-Man."
Fisk's expression darkened with volcanic rage. His entire operation had been for nothing—the Green Goblin was dead, the serum was lost, and he had expended significant resources with no return on investment.
More importantly, he—the great Kingpin—had been outmaneuvered by a masked vigilante.
This humiliation was unbearable.
"Prime, I'll make you pay for this!" Fisk roared through clenched teeth, his massive fists trembling with barely contained fury.
He swore that if Prime ever fell into his hands, he would personally tear the vigilante apart piece by piece.
But beyond his personal vendetta, Kingpin faced a more immediate political problem.
He had promised Madame Gao two serum in exchange for the Hand's cooperation. Now, with the Hand having withdrawn their forces and the Green Goblin dead with no serum to be found, he needed to explain this failure without appearing to have betrayed their agreement.
If he couldn't provide convincing evidence that Prime had killed Stromm rather than Kingpin eliminating him to keep the serum for himself, Madame Gao would likely assume the worst.
Even if she accepted his explanation, the Hand's leader would demand compensation for the failure—and she wouldn't be gentle about collecting what she felt was owed.
His anger toward Prime intensified as he contemplated these cascading consequences of the vigilante's intervention.
"Find everything you can about this Prime," Kingpin commanded Bullseye. "I want to know his real identity, his associates, his weaknesses. Everything."
"And what about the Spider-Man problem?" Bullseye asked.
"Both of them are now priority targets," Fisk declared with cold finality. "But Prime just made this personal."
Meanwhile, the object of Kingpin's rage was enjoying a perfectly ordinary evening with Felicia Hardy at a local cinema.
"Two tickets for Man of Steel," Felicia requested at the concession stand while balancing a large container of popcorn.
She turned to Ben with slight embarrassment. "I've never seen any of these superhero movies before. Will I be able to follow the plot, or should I catch up on the previous films first?"
Ben shook his head with amusement. "Don't worry about it."
"They'll probably reboot the entire franchise soon anyway."