[Official statement issued by the Global Security Ministry – 6:00 AM New York Time]
"Due to escalating threats, the government announces the classification of the unknown target wearing a completely black suit as a first-degree national security risk. Anyone providing information leading to his arrest will be granted full immunity and an immediate financial reward. All citizens are requested to immediately avoid any confrontation upon sighting him. The target's code name: 'The Black Spider.'"
...
People were not prepared for this kind of terror.
For the first time, a shadow cast on a wall caused the street to panic.
The Black Spider was not a hero.
He was a nightmare crawling on walls.
At dawn, subway traffic dropped by 60%.
Children did not go to school.
And the police? They halted night patrols in the high districts.
Only three days ago, he was seen dangling from the Brooklyn Bridge, carrying a corpse wrapped in slowly writhing black threads... not to save it, but as a public warning.
Cameras captured everything... yet he never appeared clearly.
His movements resembled Spider-Man's, but his style... showed not a shred of mercy.
His suit?
Completely black.
Clinging tightly to his skin, emitting threads that foretell a grim future.
People called him "The Black Spider"... but no one knows who he is or what he wants.
Some say he is a corrupted version of the original hero, who emerged from a portal in the sky during a strange cosmic event two months ago.
Others say he is an ordinary man who stole a suit from a secret superhuman organization... but no one has a definite answer.
There is only one word to describe him:
"A monster."
Just a madman with no restraint.
His last attack?
Only nine hours ago.
A police station in Queens was raided.
No one was killed.
Everyone woke up the next morning to find officers hanging from the ceiling, each wrapped completely in sticky cocoons, with words carved on them:
"I have lost all faith in you."
It was clear he was just a psychological madman.
...
On the fifth floor of an abandoned building, the Black Spider sat before a cracked mirror.
He slowly removed his mask.
He was a man in his mid-twenties, with calm and clean features. His hair was blond, slightly soft, lightly falling over his forehead in a careless way that somehow made him look extremely attractive. His eyes were blue, clear, with an unwavering steady gaze.
His skin was fair and pure, and his face harmoniously pleasing to look at. Nothing striking or strange—only calm and balance in his features; a straight nose, a defined jawline, and moderately shaped eyebrows topped by a faint calmness.
He wasn't bulky, but appeared athletic, light on his feet, with clear fitness in the way he sat and breathed. His black suit clung tightly, hiding everything, but when he removed his mask… he did not look like a criminal nor a superhero. Just an ordinary person.
He stared at himself for a long time before a bitter smile appeared.
"I thought I'd find some fun, but it's nothing—just dogs barking everywhere."
He looked at his phone before going to sleep, expecting to see a group of heroes.
Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, and a group of other heroes. He felt like he could have some fun with them, so he decided to visit.
The man quickly got up before going to sleep without changing his clothes.
"Ding ding."
He woke up a little late, as was his habit on days with no plans. He sat on the edge of the bed, turned his head toward the window, and noticed the unusually sunny weather outside. The weather was suitable for going out, and his stomach began sending the usual signals.
He lazily rose and began removing his usual black clothes—the outfit he wore most of the time. He pulled the shirt off over his head, then unzipped his tight pants and hung them on the nearby hanger. He paused for a moment before the mirror—not to admire himself but to ensure his appearance was "acceptable" enough to leave the house.
His body was average build, neither overly thin nor excessively muscular. Just a man in his late twenties who seemed to be active daily. Beneath this ordinary appearance was a wildly sculpted body. His skin was fair and smooth, and his blond hair was slightly tousled from sleep but dried quickly without needing styling. He looked at his face, with calm blue eyes, then slowly raised an eyebrow as if asking himself, "Do I really need to look neat just to go to the grocery store?"
He wore simple blue jeans and a light white shirt, rolled the sleeves up to mid-forearm because he preferred to move freely. He didn't wear any cologne—just washed his face and ran his fingers through his hair as usual.
He opened the door and quietly stepped outside. The sun was not strong, but he still squinted slightly as he looked up. He walked normally, hands in pockets, head slightly lowered. He did not expect to attract attention, but he did.
Some eyes stopped on him for seconds: his features were neat, his walk confident without effort, and his calmness left an impression. He wasn't "trying" to be noticed…
"Hello."
He decided to ignore the passersby and entered the grocery store before closing the door behind him.
As he began taking food, he felt something strange happen. He reached into his pocket and found a message from the government stating that he was finally wanted—but with little information.
He smiled as he grabbed his phone and sent a location of an abandoned site to the government, of course avoiding any personal details. Then he smiled even wider.
"I hop
e this time you can entertain me."
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