Chapter 444-451
444. Missing Cindy Moon
The call just now was from Ryan.
In a word.
Dr. Connors, upon seeing Richard Parker's briefcase that Ryan found in Peter Parker's bedroom ceiling, and looking at the data in the briefcase, immediately determined that this data was truly capable of enhancing spider silk.
Evidently.
There was already enough evidence, and the District Attorney's office also had enough evidence to send Peter Parker to the defendant's seat in court.
Unfortunately.
There was no charge of murder.
At most, there would only be illegal confinement plus disturbing the peace or something, but the specific charges would still depend on the District Attorney's office.
However, illegal confinement was a sure thing.
After all, even villains need human rights.
Peter Parker looked at George, who had just finished speaking and was about to get up, and was immediately stunned.
"Wait!"
Peter Parker snapped back to reality and quickly looked at George, who was already at the door: "What court? Wait a minute, what crime did I commit? I'm not a worshipper of the Peerless Assassin."
George stopped, turned around: "Aren't you?"
In George's opinion, Peter was.
It was all the Peerless Assassin's fault for corrupting the sense of justice in New York City.
George thought to himself, then opened the door, turned his head to look at Peter Parker: "Our people have already collected enough evidence from your room, from the spider silk you hung at the entrance of our NYPD. Now, whether you speak or not, it won't affect the outcome of our prosecution against you. At most, if you cooperate with us, I will plead for you with the District Attorney, and that's all."
After saying that.
George directly closed the door, turned, and walked out.
In the interrogation room, Peter Parker sat on the chair, looking bewildered.
In the observation room.
Locke, with his arms crossed, clicked his tongue twice internally, feeling a slight sigh of emotion. Was this, in some sense, "dying before even achieving success"?
After all... although Peter Parker had already become a little spider, and the makeshift spider suit seemed to have been cobbled together, he hadn't even been called Spider-Man, let alone what Spider-Man was.
He was sanctioned right after his debut?
Locke blinked.
He wanted to laugh.
The next second.
Locke caught a glimpse of Gwen beside him and secretly thought, thankfully.
After all, compared to the half-finished Peter Parker, Gwen was clearly the most qualified to be called Spider-Woman, with spider silk, a suit, and everything.
If Peter Parker had debuted and become famous, gotten the title of Spider-Man, and then been caught, it would have easily affected Gwen.
So... it's good that he was caught.
Locke thought to himself.
He went out.
He got in the car.
Locke and Gwen left the NYPD directly. As for what Peter Parker would face, that was Peter Parker's own business.
Since he did it, he should bear the consequences of his actions.
Challenging the NYPD?
What a talent!
After returning to the car, Gwen looked preoccupied. This time, she had observed Peter Parker up close, and had originally hoped to use this opportunity to use her spider-sense to find the black spider that had given Peter Parker his powers.
But, she hadn't been able to find any trace of the black spider.
Just then.
"Huh?"
Gwen's heart stirred slightly, and she looked out the window, her fur suddenly standing on end, her gaze landing on the New Amsterdam Hospital, which was very close to the NYPD: "Stop the car!"
Locke turned the steering wheel, and amidst a flurry of honks from behind, he skillfully pulled the car to the side of the road.
"What's wrong?"
"I smell Jelly."
"..."
After Gwen finished speaking, she unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the car door, and walked directly into the New Amsterdam Hospital.
Yes.
She had just detected the scent of Jelly, very faint, but it was indeed the scent of Jelly.
This made Gwen a little excited, thinking that Jelly hadn't died.
However... at the door of a ward, Gwen looked at the empty room, with only the lingering scent of Jelly left, and nothing else.
"Excuse me."
Gwen walked to the nurses' station and found a nurse: "Hello, I'd like to ask about the patient in bed 315..."
She hadn't finished speaking yet.
Beside her.
A couple, looking agitated, got into an argument with the nurse for some unknown reason, and then their temper flared.
"What the f*ck?"
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"Where's my daughter?"
"My daughter was still in your hospital last night, lying in bed 315 over there. But this morning, we came, and you told us my daughter was gone, and you don't know where she went?"
"What kind of hospital is this?"
The Mu'en couple was very agitated. Originally, their daughter being in the hospital was already making them sad, but then, something even more upsetting happened: their daughter was simply gone.
Can you believe this?
Mr. Mu'en, furious, immediately dialed 911.
"I want to report a crime!"
"Yes!"
Mr. Mu'en glanced at the nurses at the nurses' station, who were looking at each other, and said directly: "My daughter was lost by the hospital. Her name is Cindy Mu'en."
Gwen, over there, blinked.
315.
Cindy Mu'en?
The one with the lingering scent of Jelly?
Gwen immediately focused her gaze on the angry Mu'en couple, and then, her gaze very accurately landed on a small trace left on Mr. Mu'en's raised cuff.
Traces of spider silk.
To be precise, it was the residue of Jelly's spider silk.
Before long.
When Beckett arrived at the hospital with his team, he was a little stunned to see Locke and Gwen.
"Why are you here?"
"Detective Beckett."
Gwen stuck out her tongue slightly, walked up, and, meeting Beckett's somewhat puzzled gaze, said: "The missing person is Locke's friend."
Beckett looked directly at Locke.
Locke nodded.
He hadn't wanted to say anything, but then again, the Mu'en couple had met him.
Half a month ago, when the spider disaster broke out at the Columbia University Science Center, Cindy Mu'en, after waking up from the hospital, had specifically gone to Midtown High School with her parents to thank him.
So... Locke's recognition was too high. Just now, after the Mu'en couple finished their outburst, they noticed Locke and quickly greeted him.
Coincidentally, Locke was also very curious about something.
Cindy Mu'en had already been discharged from the hospital, so why had she been admitted again?
However, the Mu'en couple looked at each other and only said that due to Cindy Mu'en's physical condition, they had brought her to the hospital for a follow-up examination. As for the specific reason, they did not say.
It didn't matter if they didn't say, Locke had already found the answer himself.
Cindy Mu'en had mutated just as he had imagined, but it seemed that the power Cindy Mu'en mutated with was uncontrollable. Yesterday morning, her energy suddenly went wild, directly shooting out spider silk and wrapping the Mu'en couple into mummies.
That scared the Mu'en couple senseless at the time.
Then.
When the Mu'en couple struggled to free themselves from the spider cocoon and once again found Cindy Mu'en, who had burrowed into the room, they discovered that the room was no different from a spider's web, and Cindy Mu'en had already elegantly fainted.
The Mu'en couple quickly sent Cindy Mu'en to the New Amsterdam Hospital, and then, thinking of the dense spider webs at home, they rushed back. However, after spending a night cleaning up, they returned to the hospital only to find that Cindy Mu'en, who had been lying in the hospital bed, had simply disappeared.
Their daughter had vanished overnight?
And yet, not a single nurse could provide an answer as to their daughter's whereabouts.
How could the Mu'en couple not be angry?
Beckett, after listening, looked up at the surveillance cameras covering the hallway, frowned, and looked at the nurses' station: "How did she leave? Didn't the surveillance cameras capture it?"
The head nurse also felt wronged: "No, the surveillance shows that no one walked out of room 315 last night. We've already checked the surveillance."
Mr. Mu'en, hearing this, exploded again: "Then how is my daughter gone? Don't tell me my daughter ran out of the hospital room window by herself? This is the third floor, and my daughter is only eighteen years old."
The head nurse quickly comforted him: "Sir, please don't get agitated. We have already contacted the IT department, and they are currently retrieving surveillance footage from near the building."
Beckett also said from the side: "You two, this is a hospital, and the surveillance is very comprehensive. Don't worry yet, I think there must be a reason that can explain this."
After all, this was a hospital, known as the New Amsterdam Hospital, which boasted surveillance everywhere except in the restrooms, and was the sole designated hospital for various law enforcement agencies in New York and prisons in New York State.
Surely no one would be foolish enough to kidnap someone inside the New Amsterdam Hospital.
The Peerless Assassin's incident didn't count.
Strictly speaking, the Peerless Assassin's incident was actually the NYPD letting things slide.
So, Beckett wasn't overly nervous, until the IT department reported that the surveillance camera on the third-floor outer wall of the building had been damaged, which made him slightly pause.
Then he truly started to get nervous.
It was ten minutes later.
"It's this thing."
A hospital technician climbed out the window, then with great effort, peeled something off the camera, climbed back into the room, and handed the item to Beckett: "All the outdoor surveillance footage from last night was blank. The most recent time it was checked was around two o'clock last night when someone covered it up."
But... how was this camera covered without being captured by other cameras?
Beckett took the item handed to him.
His expression changed instantly.
"Spider silk?"
"Spider silk again?"
445. Kidnapper Peter Parker
"What?"
"Kidnapped?"
In the office, George, who was discussing existing evidence with the district attorney and seeing how many charges could be brought against Peter Parker, stood up abruptly when Beckett walked in, knocking on the door: "Damn it, when did this happen?"
George stared at the spider silk Beckett handed him in an evidence bag.
He had originally wanted to ask why Locke and Gwen had returned, but upon seeing the spider silk, that thought vanished.
"What exactly happened?"
"It's like this."
Beckett recounted the missing person's case she had just received at New Amsterdam Hospital, as well as the relationship between Cindy Moon and Locke: "The hospital speculates that the person was kidnapped around 4 AM yesterday."
After listening, George snapped his head to look at Locke: "How is this related to you again?"
Locke, with his hands in his pockets, also made a very helpless expression.
He didn't want this either.
This should be related to Gwen, after all, Locke had sensed Cindy Moon's presence at the hospital entrance, but had no intention of going in to take a look.
His current mission was a peaceful semester, not an eventful one.
So... Locke opened his mouth, intending to explain himself to George.
But.
After speaking, George had already looked back at the spider silk in the evidence bag, frowning: "Have you had Dr. Connors analyze it?"
Disturbing public order?
George could understand that.
But, kidnapping?
George found it hard to believe.
However, Beckett nodded directly and said: "It has been confirmed by Dr. Connors, and there are only minor differences in the composition of the spider silk compared to what we previously obtained."
Well, I'll be!
George looked up directly: "Peter Parker?"
Beckett nodded: "It seems so."
Only Richard Parker's data could produce such spider silk, and the book containing the data was found on Peter Parker's bedroom ceiling, densely packed. Besides Richard Parker's fingerprints, there were also Peter Parker's fingerprints, and no third person's fingerprints.
All the data, basically, pointed to Peter Parker.
Only Peter Parker could shoot such spider silk, and the spider silk found on the surveillance cameras on the outer wall of New Amsterdam Hospital was also basically consistent in composition with the previous spider silk.
Did he really become a suspect in a serious felony?
George once again inexplicably thought of the Bell family, whom Locke had previously intended to sue in a civil case, and once again couldn't help but glance at Locke.
Is this wild boar really cursed?
George really wanted to say, next time, if Locke plans to sue someone in a civil case, to give him a heads-up so he can make arrangements in advance and avoid being caught off guard like this.
"Let's go!"
George stood up: "Bring Peter Parker into the interrogation room. Investigate. Have New Amsterdam Hospital send over all the surveillance data from yesterday."
Kidnapping is a serious felony, and for any kidnapping case, the best rescue time is within forty-eight hours. Once that time is exceeded, the chances of the hostage being rescued will decrease infinitely.
In the interrogation room!
"Bang!"
George slammed the printed information about Cindy Moon onto the interrogation table, and looking at Peter Parker, who had been brought in from questioning and was now handcuffed, he immediately took the initiative: "Where is she?"
Peter Parker, who apparently still didn't know what he had done wrong, had just seen George walk in and was excitedly about to defend himself. Then, suddenly seeing George's actions, he seemed startled and a little bewildered: "What?"
George directly opened the file in front of him and, with a slap, threw a photo of Cindy Moon in front of Peter Parker: "Her. Where did you kidnap her?"
Peter Parker was immediately stunned.
"What, kidnapped?"
"Yes!"
"I didn't..."
"Thump!"
George interrupted directly. From the files, he found the spider silk discovered at the NYPD, and also the spider silk found at New Amsterdam Hospital, along with the test report from Dr. Connors' lab. He slammed them on the table and stared expressionlessly at Peter Parker: "Last chance, Peter Parker. Disturbing public order and unlawful imprisonment might be misdemeanors, but kidnapping is a federal felony."
Peter Parker opened his mouth, looking at the two reports on the table, completely bewildered. He looked up: "I don't know what you're talking about."
He truly didn't know.
In the interrogation room.
Locke raised an eyebrow; he could tell that Peter Parker wasn't lying.
So, what was going on?
"Tracking card..."
Ding!
The mission "A Peaceful Semester" is currently in progress. Using a tracking card will cause the mission to be judged as failed and interrupted. Confirm whether to continue!"
"No!"
Locke silently said to himself. One hundred thousand points was no small sum. Fifteen consecutive days of tutoring, six test papers a day, from morning till night, had only earned him less than fifty thousand points.
The mission was paramount.
"Where were you last night?"
"I was at home."
At this moment, Peter Parker also seemed to realize that something was wrong, and Harry Osborn wasn't answering his calls either. Plus, he had just been thrown into the holding cell, finally realizing that this wasn't some game or prank. Hearing George's question, he quickly said: "I went home very early last night."
"Does anyone vouch for that?"
"Aunt May."
Peter Parker's eyes lit up: "Aunt May came home from her night shift at six in the morning. I was woken up then and even complained to Aunt May to close the door more quietly."
"Scumbag!"
"..."
Locke looked at Gwen, who had suddenly cursed.
Gwen looked at Locke: "Mary Jane told me that Peter's Aunt May has been very busy these past few days, dealing with Ben Parker's affairs, taking care of Peter, and even working. I heard that Aunt May has argued with Peter Parker more than once these past few days because every time Aunt May tells Peter Parker to do something, when she comes home from work, nothing has been done."
Especially just now.
Good heavens.
Aunt May goes out to work for whom, and Peter Parker not only doesn't appreciate it, but even complains about Aunt May's noise when she comes home after working all night.
If that's not a scumbag, then what is?
Locke listened to Gwen's words and nodded: "I find it hard to disagree with what you just said."
Gwen, seeing Locke's stance, withdrew her gaze and then looked back at Peter Parker, thinking to herself: "In Jelly's memory, the Blacklight race also seems to be a group of unfilial and unrighteous guys. Sure enough, birds of a feather flock together. Pfft!"
In the interrogation room.
Although Peter Parker provided an alibi, this evidence was only what Peter Parker himself believed to be evidence.
George shook his head and said: "Aunt May Parker's testimony cannot be used as evidence, and you yourself said that Aunt May Parker came back at six o'clock, while Cindy Moon was kidnapped and disappeared at four o'clock in the morning."
Peter frowned: "So what?"
George said: "You had the time, didn't you?"
Peter was stunned for a moment, then became agitated: "If it were me, why wouldn't I say Aunt May came back at four o'clock? Damn it, at four o'clock, I was sleeping at home, I didn't go anywhere."
George, expressionless, smiled slightly: "So, you admit that this so-called vigilante who appeared in New York City a few days ago is you?"
Peter froze in place.
"Beautiful!"
"Dad is amazing."
Gwen clenched her fists, looking through the glass at Peter Parker, who was completely stiffened by George's question, a slight smile on her lips.
Detective Beckett, at the control panel in the adjacent observation room, looked at the high-definition monitor and, hearing Gwen's voice, smiled and said: "George's interrogation experience is very rich. No suspect can pull a fast one on George."
Gwen came back to her senses and nodded.
Locke, on the other hand, smiled politely, but in his heart, he reserved judgment on that statement.
George even knew his secret...
No.
George hadn't discovered Gwen's secret either.
In the interrogation room.
Peter Parker's rigid body slowly softened, and meeting George's gaze, his eyes began to flicker: "I don't know what you're talking about."
George chuckled.
You say you don't know, and that's it?
In this interrogation room, George had seen and personally experienced and interrogated too many scumbags. There were those who immediately buried their heads and cried bitterly, and those who genuinely repented, but more often, there were stubborn individuals like Peter Parker, who, even with all the evidence against them, still stubbornly refused to confess, preferring to take their chances in court.
But, such stubborn individuals were, in fact, George's favorites.
For George, there was nothing more comforting and enjoyable than personally sending these confident, stubborn individuals to prison.
This time, George also believed there would be no exception.
Just then.
Detective Beckett in the observation room exclaimed in surprise, looking at a certain frame from the surveillance footage transmitted back from New Amsterdam Hospital: "What is this?"
Locke and Gwen, who were at the observation window, turned to look.
Detective Beckett had already grabbed a printed image and was walking towards the observation room door.
Locke and Gwen approached the computer and looked closely.
In view.
On the top floor rooftop surveillance of New Amsterdam, the screen showed a man holding a woman, seemingly frozen in mid-air.
The man wore some kind of red hood and some kind of clothing; it was unclear who he was.
But the woman... the image was very clear.
It was Cindy Moon!
Chapter 446: Curiosity vs. Task Rewards
Holy cow!
Locke raised his eyebrows, stood up, and looked directly through the one-way glass at Peter Parkersitting in the interrogation room.
He'd spent his life hunting eagles, only to get pecked in the face by one?
Peter Parker was truly the first person to ever make him misjudge someone.
There was no doubt about it.
That superhero out late at night, wearing a flashy red Spider-Man suit and swinging from a strand of Spider Silk—if it wasn't Spider-Man, who else could it be?
Spider-Man was Peter Parker.
And now?
Peter Parker had lied; he was the one who kidnapped Cindy Moon.
Tsk tsk.
Locke shook his head inwardly. Although he subjectively disliked Spider-Man, he couldn't deny that the Hero was loved by many who saw him as a friendly neighborhood friend. So, while Locke found Spider-Man annoying, he never thought the guy would do something so classless as kidnapping a sexy girl instead of fighting crime at night.
So... Locke turned his head back to the surveillance footage of Spider-Man and raised an eyebrow.
What exactly was going on here?
Did he really lie, and did he actually manage to fool him?
Locke rested his chin on one hand, thinking to himself.
Inside the interrogation room.
George looked at the latest evidence that had just been brought in. He gave a cold laugh and slammed the evidence down in front of Peter Parker. "Didn't account for the cameras catching you?"
Although George and the others hadn't caught Peter Parker red-handed, they hadn't just found Richard Parker's briefcase in Peter's bedroom; they also found a semi-finished handmade costume.
Of course.
While the handmade suit was crude, it was red. From a distance, it looked virtually identical to the one in the printed photos.
Peter Parker closed his eyes, then looked at the photo slammed in front of him—the one of Spider-Mankidnapping Cindy Moon and swinging away. His mouth hung open in shock.
This suit... it was exactly the suit he had envisioned.
Wait.
But I haven't even finished making this suit yet?
Due to Uncle Ben Parker's death, he hadn't found the chance to ask Aunt May for money, and the scholarship money he'd earned from Midtown High School had all been spent on making and improving his Spider Silk web-shooters.
So, lately, he had been wearing a prototype suit. He planned to ask Aunt May for some money once she got her paycheck next month to officially put his suit project on the schedule.
And now?
Who was this in the photo?
Peter Parker's mind raced. He looked up and met George's gaze. Instantly understanding the look in George's eyes, he panicked. "Wait a minute, the person in this photo isn't me at all."
Damn it.
I have no idea who this guy is. I don't have the money to make such a high-quality spider suit.
Peter Parker was truly panicking.
In his mind, the most he had done was bundle up some criminals and dump them at the NYPD. He figured once the NYPD cleared things up, they would let him go.
But now?
Kidnapping?
From a certain perspective, Peter Parker was actually a good kid—at the very least, a law-abiding one. Peter often thought of himself that way.
But as Locke often said, if a person constantly boasts about being law-abiding, then that person is, at best, only slightly higher than scum.
Because the law is the absolute baseline.
In the observation room.
Locke crossed his arms, analyzing Peter Parker's panicked face and perfectly executed expressions.
Gwen was also watching from the side. She frowned and said, "That's not Peter Parker."
Because... if Peter Parker's Black Spider presence had been at the hospital, Gwen felt her Spider-Sense would have been triggered at the time.
Could someone else know about Richard Parker's research and have replicated it?
"Maybe."
"Hmm?"
"We should go."
"Huh?"
Gwen blinked as Locke suddenly suggested they leave. "Aren't you curious?"
Locke was curious, of course.
But... this bit of curiosity hadn't triggered a mission pop-up.
Even if one did pop up, Locke doubted the rewards could surpass the "Calm Semester" mission he had already accepted.
Since it wouldn't, and no mission had appeared, Locke was perfectly capable of suppressing his curiosity.
In short.
Locke was curious about this matter, but not enough to give up the 100,000 points he would receive just by holding out for three more months.
"I am curious."
Locke looked into Gwen's eyes and smiled as he spoke. He then tapped the watch on his wrist. "But Gwen, we're going to be late. Don't forget, we agreed to go to the library for a study session with Cindyand Kahn."
Gwen paused, grabbed Locke's wrist to check the time, and gasped. "Oh my god, I almost forgot!"
Yesterday afternoon, they had all agreed to go to the library together this afternoon, study until evening, go to the restaurant Kahn had booked a week in advance for dinner, and then head home.
The time now?
They were about to be late.
Gwen was curious about the situation too, but she preferred to be with Locke. Since Locke didn't want to stay, she didn't mind leaving.
As for what would happen to Peter Parker?
In George's eyes, Peter Parker had already become one of those stubborn elements whose imprisonment would make George feel happy and refreshed.
Almost as soon as Locke and Gwen left, George walked out of the interrogation room with an expressionless face. He took off his white coat, rolled up his sleeves, and said to Beckett nearby, "I'll handle this case personally, if you don't mind."
Beckett shrugged. "Of course not. I thought your only wish was to catch the Peerless Assassin."
George laughed and looked at Beckett. "That Peerless Assassin fellow is clearly afraid of me. But until the day I catch him, I will never fully retire from the front lines. This case is perfect. I've never seen someone tell a lie that sounds so much like the truth. It's a good warm-up; maybe it'll spark some inspiration on how to catch the Peerless Assassin."
"Never seen it? Didn't you say Locke is also a very good liar?"
"That kid's lying is too low-level."
"Ah."
George smiled. "That kid only has one routine when he lies: clear eyes. The clearer that wild boar's eyes are, the more it means he's lying. I just haven't called him out on it. I'm keeping it in reserve; maybe it'll give me some kind of surprise."
For instance... he could use this flaw to find where that wild boar made a mistake, and then catch him by surprise—the wild boar who had snatched away his precious cabbage, showed no remorse, and even had the nerve to show off in front of him every single day.
Beckett watched George roll up his sleeves, ready to get to work, and shook her head speechlessly.
After more than a year, George was returning to the front lines of detection. With his experience as a former front-line Detective and his current rank and status within the NYPD, how terrifying would he be when he went all out?
In fact, the answer came very quickly.
Four hours later, Peter Parker's travel routes for nearly the entire past week were completely exposed before the full might of the NYPD.
At the same time... Peter Parker's mobile provider, following a single call from Police Superintendent George Stacy, directly transmitted Peter Parker's phone data.
"Here!"
A large satellite map opened. As the data from Peter Parker's mobile provider dropped onto the satellite map like precise points of light, George's eyes lit up. He pointed to a certain port in Queensthat was built in the fifties but abandoned in the eighties: "Zoom in!"
"Understood!"
"Five hours?"
Beckett frowned, looking at the more detailed data that appeared after zooming in. "He spent almost three hours there every day this week. Doing what?"
George smiled, took out his phone, and dialed the SWAT Team. He then looked at Beckett. "Won't we know once we take a look? Though, if I had to guess, I'd say it's a secret Base."
But... this was the information age.
There was no such thing as a secret Base.
Even a Detective like George, who still preferred old-school methods, had to admit that with the advancement of the times, while such practices were somewhat invasive of privacy, they certainly removed a lot of resistance from their police work.
Only.
"It's a pity."
"A pity? What?"
"I've checked that wild boar's phone data too."
...Huh?"
Beckett was stunned for a moment and couldn't help but look at George. "Does Gwen know about this?"
George was also stunned. "Gwen... why would she need to know about this?"
Beckett opened her mouth, then thought about it. It seemed difficult to explain that in youth culture, a very interesting thing called 'Phone Sex' had emerged. She simply shook her head and changed the subject: "And then? Did you find any useful clues?"
George shook his head. Thinking about the data that had reached his hands five days ago, he looked at Beckett, went silent for a moment, and said, "I think it was a set of fake data."
Beckett was slightly taken aback. "Fake data? No way."
George shook his head.
Actually, he couldn't say it was fake, but to George, it just looked magical no matter how he viewed it.
In a word.
It was too damn regular.
It was completely unlike the life routine that wild boar should have in his mind!
447. The Kidnapper, Peter Parker
Let me put it this way.
From the phone-signal data George had obtained, he'd hoped to catch Locke out—at the very worst, to follow the thread from Locke's calls and nail the bastard bootlegger selling booze to minors.
If that boar couldn't get his paws on any more liquor, George figured he'd feel happier than if he himself had sworn off drinking.
But… what did he actually see?
Home–school, home–school, and on weekends home–school–Long Island: a routine so predictable it couldn't be more predictable.
Monday to Friday Locke's signal moved only between Midtown High School and Starlight Tower; on weekends it added one more stop—Long Island.
George was speechless.
Yesterday, after Locke and Gwen came back, George had wondered if the data was fake—after all, Locke had money and the boar's computer skills weren't bad—so he'd cautiously double-checked with Gwen.
Gwen shattered his illusion.
She said their life really was that regular, and told him not to worry: though she was now living with Locke, she'd still visit him every weekend, just like Helen brought the whole family to Long Island to see their grandparents each weekend.
George felt a stab to the heart.
And that was the end of that.
Actually… if George had looked half a month—or even a month—earlier, he would have seen something very different. He'd guessed right: the data was fake.
In a manner of speaking.
Yet the data was also real; the mission simply required Locke to appear calm, and nothing looks calmer than a two-point commute.
Queens!
An abandoned dock.
"Go, go, go!"
"Move, move, move!"
"NYPD!"
"NYPD!"
As the battering ram hit first, the iron gate crashed inward with a boom, and the NYPD tactical team poured into the derelict warehouse, weapons raised.
Next second—
Splut!
"Agh!"
"What was that?"
"shit!"
"Over there!"
Pfft-pfft-pfft!
"Cease fire!"
"Hold your fire!"
The team leader peeled a sticky white glob from his face, saw the shredded corpses of a few unlucky rats, and roared.
Instantly the gunfire stopped.
Inside: the second-floor wall was a bloody mess; below lay several dead rats and a couple of spiders—still warm.
Just then—
Muffled cries.
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
The leader raised a fist for silence; deeper inside, the gagged sobs of a kidnap victim rang clear.
"That way!"
He pointed, nodded to his men, and waved them forward.
In seconds the team swept toward the sound.
Moments later, rounding a corner, they halted: a machine, a bed, and Cindy Moon trussed up with a gag in her mouth.
"George…"
"I'm here."
"Hostage located."
"What?"
Held back by Beckett from rushing in, George froze at the radio report, met Beckett's eyes, then sprinted for the warehouse.
"George—!" Beckett called.
When the first shots had sounded inside, George had tried to charge in; she'd stopped him.
Not just because he was her friend, but because of his rank.
Not out of fear—only a handful of NYPD top brass had climbed the ladder step by step, and Georgealone understood what frontline Detectives truly needed.
If anything happened to him, she couldn't face Gwen and Helen, and the department's hard-won progress would slide backward.
That couldn't happen.
So Beckett caught up, pulled him behind her, and went in first.
The tac team had already signaled "all clear," but better safe than sorry; the rank and file respected George as the rare brass who genuinely had their backs.
Up close.
"Cindy Moon?"
George studied the woman being carefully untied by two tactical officers—her mental state clearly fragile, flustered, and disoriented—and matched her to the missing-person photo. He asked again, "Cindy Moon?"
A frantic Cindy Moon looked up, eyes darting. "Y-yes... it's me."
George felt a knot loosen in his chest.
At the same time... he cursed under his breath.
Frankly, back in the interrogation room, Peter Parker's panicked, innocent expression had almost convinced George he'd been wrong.
But now?
Eyewitness and physical evidence—both solid.
Nick Fury once called Locke a textbook sociopath; whether that was true, George didn't know. What he did know—without doubt—was that Peter Parker was one.
Absolutely.
Anyone who could look him in the eye, all wide-eyed and sincere, and claim innocence? If that wasn't antisocial, what was?
Beckett holstered her sidearm and, as Cindy tried to stand, caught the obviously weak woman. "You're safe now."
While soothing her, Beckett noticed several items beside the bed.
"George."
"Yeah."
His gaze fixed on the blood-collection kit and bag. "I see it."
Needle marks dotted Cindy Moon's arm.
The bag still held blood.
Beckett frowned, touched the bag, paused, and looked back. "It's still warm."
George's voice dropped. "There's an accomplice."
Gone by now, though.
He squeezed the sticky mass the tactical Captain had just handed him.
Spider Silk again.
A few Officers had taken a faceful of the stuff, spotted a rat and some spiders on the windowsill, assumed they were under attack, and opened fire.
Fifteen minutes later an ambulance from New Amsterdam Hospital arrived.
"Moon."
As Beckett helped her aboard, she asked the now-calmer woman, "What do you remember?"
Cindy was quiet, then nodded.
"Tell me."
Beckett's eyes lit up. "You're safe, I promise."
"Peter Parker!"
"Hmm?"
Cindy lifted her head. "He said his name was Peter Parker. When I tried to run, he caught me—said he needed my blood to bring someone back."
Beckett raised an eyebrow and glanced at George outside.
A heartbeat later she pulled out her phone, brought up Peter's photo, and showed it. "Is this him?"
Cindy nodded. "Yes, but he was wearing a ridiculous outfit—bright red, like blood."
So it really was him.
Beckett pocketed the phone and looked at George.
"Go with her. I'll wait for forensics, then come once Ryan and Esposito reach the hospital."
"Got it."
Great.
Kidnapping.
Unlawful imprisonment.
Disturbing the peace.
Assault.
Open-and-shut case.
No doubt about it.
Back inside, George stared at the thick cobwebs overhead and felt a surge of disgust.
Damn it.
Spiders again!
Barely ten days since the citywide arachno-panic had faded, and here was another web.
Pests, plain and simple.
He was still thinking that when his phone rang.
"George here."
"Captain."
It was Ryan, back at the office, eyeing a blind man in sunglasses leaning on a cane. "Peter Parker's lawyer wants to see him."
"Lawyer?"
"Yes, sir."
"TNT again?"
"No."
Ryan checked the card. "Nelson & Murdock, out of Hell's Kitchen. Says May Parker sent him."
Not TNT.
Not that it mattered.
Even if it were, George was confident this case was airtight.
"Let him through."
"Copy that."
Four Hundred and Forty-Eight, Daredevil
George always had the law on his lips, so naturally, if the law allowed Peter Parker to hire a lawyer, George wouldn't stand in the way.
What's more... the registered address is a law firm in Hell's Kitchen?
Heh.
Isn't that kind of lawyer purely using amateur legal knowledge to trick those undocumented immigrants, especially those rich bumpkins from the East who are easily fooled?
Oh right.
And he's blind, apparently?
Interesting!
George put down the phone, shaking his head with a suppressed chuckle. Clearly, May Parker had been conned.
Inside the NYPD precinct.
Ryan hung up the phone, then turned to Matt Murdock, who stood before him wearing sunglasses, leaning on a cane with one hand, and carrying a briefcase in the other, dressed in a cheap suit. "Come with me."
With that.
Ryan was about to step forward and help Matt Murdock.
After all, he was a Catholic, the orthodox kind, and he enjoyed helping others, especially those with disabilities.
But... Matt Murdock stepped back, speaking in a faint, calm tone: "No need, thank you, I can manage."
Ryan stopped.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"...Alright."
Ryan was silent for a moment, then nodded, not insisting. However, he still looked at Matt Murdock with some hesitation before slowly turning and walking towards the holding cells.
Matt Murdock raised his foot and followed.
"Amazing."
As Ryan walked towards the holding cells, he glanced back at Matt Murdock, whose steps showed no hesitation, sometimes even moving his right foot forward without the cane touching the ground. He thought to himself.
If Ryan hadn't just checked the information and confirmed certain things, he might have thought Matt Murdock wasn't truly blind, but merely pretending.
Matt Murdock, following behind, observed Ryan's expression, which showed suspicion and curiosity in his own world, without any change in his own face.
He was used to it.
However... he no longer believed that God's blinding him was a punishment. On the contrary, Matt Murdock believed it wasn't a punishment, but a gift from God. Although God had closed his window, he had opened a door for him, allowing him to see a different world.
Of course.
As a child, when he first lost his sight, Matt did believe it was God's punishment, and even considered ending his life at one point.
After all, he wasn't born without sight; he had seen the light before falling into darkness.
But then, he met someone.
Stick!
Through Stick's training, Matt learned how to utilize his senses more fully. Through meditation, he could rapidly heal wounds and significantly enhance his physical functions.
He even learned how to control his other four senses, which had been greatly enhanced by the accident that cost him his sight.
His acute sense of touch strengthened his entire nervous system, allowing him to maintain balance and giving him superhuman strength, enough to overturn a small car.
He could even... perceive minute changes in temperature and pressure. His sensitivity to heat allowed him to sense the temperature of people and objects, determining if someone was alive, how long they had been dead, and other changes in body temperature.
He also possessed a powerful sense of smell, enhanced to the point of being able to distinguish individual natural scents, and to remember and identify them, no matter how they tried to mask their odor.
His sense of taste was also incredibly sharp, enabling him to detect the number of salt grains on a pretzel.
The most incredible, or "BUG-like," ability was his acute hearing, which allowed him to hear sounds from several blocks away. He could even hear the frantic heartbeat of someone twenty feet away and detect lies by subtle changes in their heartbeat.
Simply put!
Matt Murdock was essentially a toned-down version of Locke in his normal state.
However... it was a weakened version.
At the very least, Locke's current normal state was already a regular superhuman state; if Locke wished, he could even fly.
But even in his weakened state, it was enough for Matt to protect himself in this world and even have the inclination to help others pro bono.
For example, by taking on cases for the poor, allowing the law to deliver justice. If the law wasn't inclined to give the poor justice, then Matt would temporarily act as the law itself, helping the poor reclaim what was rightfully theirs.
This time was no exception.
He met May Parker, who often helped him with his medication, at the hospital that morning. From a worried May Parker, he learned that Peter Parker had been arrested by the NYPD. He immediately offered to look into it.
But... after following Ryan around a corner, Matt Murdock's eyebrows furrowed slightly.
Because, in his world, the path ahead was eerily silent, seemingly a dead end, with no third person present.
Or rather.
No living person!
Just then.
"WTF?"
Ryan, who had just reached the holding cell, was about to knock on the door to have the officer inside open it. His eyes widened as he saw the officer hanging in mid-air, neck severely twisted, swaying back and forth. He immediately blurted out an expletive and quickly pressed the alarm device on the wall nearby: "Beep beep beep!"
Instantly.
The alarm indicating an intrusion in the holding cell echoed throughout the entire police station building.
Ten minutes later.
The holding cell was completely surrounded.
The detention officer was dead.
The suspect was missing.
This was a big deal!
By the time George, who was still en route, heard the news of Peter Parker's escape, he was speechless. When he arrived at the precinct, Ryan and several others were scrambling to take down the officer, who was hanging in mid-air and had no signs of life, from the holding cell and lay him on the ground.
"WT..."
George wiped his face and walked into the holding cell, staring at the now empty cell and the spider silk hanging directly from the ceiling. He walked over, grabbed it, and pulled hard. Instantly, the ceiling, which had appeared to be a single piece, was torn down, revealing the ventilation duct inside: "Hiss!"
Great.
Now, Peter Parker's guilt was beyond doubt.
But... this guy had already been searched earlier, and nothing special was found. Where did this spider silk come from?
Was it self-produced?
George's face was grim as he looked at the dead officer, taking a deep breath.
Tonight was destined to be another sleepless night.
Because no one could get away unscathed after killing a police officer, especially not a police officer killed inside the police station building!
"Sir!"
"He was likely killed about half an hour ago."
"Hmm."
George listened to the forensic doctor's words, nodded, checked his watch, and then raised his head, saying in a deep voice, "Seal the island!"
Half an hour.
Although it was a weekend, it didn't prevent Manhattan Island's traffic from being terrible at this time. At this hour, let alone half an hour, it would take at least an hour to leave Manhattan Island from the NYPD precinct.
"Seal the island!"
George, expressionless, led a team of people out. "Raise all twenty-one bridges for me."
"Understood!"
"Yes!"
No one could expect to get away unscathed after killing a police officer.
Even the Peerless Assassin wouldn't dare to kill a cop.
A spider?
Heh heh!
Just then.
George stopped, looking at a man sitting in a chair not far away, wearing sunglasses indoors, appearing so out of place and leisurely amidst the busy personnel around him. He frowned, "Who is he?"
Ryan, standing nearby, saw this: "Matt Murdock, Peter Parker's lawyer."
He really is blind, then.
George thought to himself. Although Ryan had just told him, he had assumed it was some kind of nickname for a lawyer. After all, he had never seen a blind person work as a lawyer before, nor had he ever dealt with such a lawyer.
Matt Murdock got up from his seat, his gaze fixed on George's direction. He walked directly over to George and extended his right hand, "Hello, Superintendent Stacy."
George glanced at the eight or nine people gathered around him, then looked at Matt Murdock, who precisely extended his right hand towards him. He raised an eyebrow, then shook Matt Murdock's hand. "Mr. Lawyer, it seems your client is getting into more and more trouble."
Isn't that the truth?
Initially, it was merely unlawful imprisonment, challenging the NYPD, and disturbing public order. In the afternoon, after a trip to the harbor, kidnapping and assault were added.
Now?
Intentional murder, and of a police officer at that.
Good heavens.
Once caught, there were only two options.
Life imprisonment or the death penalty!
Hmm?
Speaking of which, the Bell family, whom Locke had once again planned to sue in civil court, it seems they were ultimately sentenced to the death penalty, went to the electric chair, and ascended to heaven, right?
George's thoughts raced as he pondered this, looking at Matt Murdock before him, and said in a deep voice, "If Mr. Lawyer knows where your client is, perhaps it's time to speak up. If we find out, Mr. Lawyer, you should know what kind of treatment awaits someone who hides and shelters a suspect in a police murder case."
If the safety of the police, who protect the city, cannot be guaranteed.
Then... who would dare to protect this city?
The federal government emphasizes individual privacy rights and doctor-patient confidentiality or lawyer-client privilege. However, in New York State, there are specific laws that directly bypass these privacy and confidentiality relationships in cases involving police murders.
If doctors and lawyers know something and don't disclose it, they will also be prosecuted by the district attorney...
449. Eliminate the correct answer
Matt Murdock felt a bit strange.
He always had a feeling that something was wrong with this matter.
Of course.
Matt Murdock didn't know Peter Parker well, but he knew May Parker very well, and he believed May Parker wouldn't lie. So, when he came over, he was willing to believe that Peter Parker was innocent and had been wrongly accused, and that there might have been some misunderstanding.
For example… the NYPD, feeling humiliated by this second vigilante, simply decided to pick on the weakest, found Peter Parker, and intended to pin the vigilante label on him.
When Matt Murdock first arrived, he indeed thought so.
Now?
Matt Murdock was bewildered.
In a word.
No matter how much the NYPD framed someone, they probably wouldn't directly hang their own colleague in the interrogation room, or at least, they wouldn't let a colleague's body be found inside the police station.
So, the only possibility was that Peter Parker did kill the person.
But… wasn't Peter Parker just an eighteen-year-old kid?
How could that be?
Matt Murdock, listening to George's pointed warning, snapped back to reality and said, "Chief Stacy, I graduated from Columbia Law School and have a New York City bar license. I'm very familiar with the law, please believe me, if I knew where my client was, I would definitely say."
New York City would not let go of any criminal who dared to lay hands on a police officer.
Even.
Even the top-tier TNT Law Firm on Wall Street, in such a case, if the evidence was conclusive, the best outcome they could achieve would be a death sentence, to prevent the client from being condemned to the electric chair.
Even the TNT Law Firm, which dared to sue the FBI and Homeland Security, and even forced MI6 to settle privately, wouldn't dare to provoke the NYPD in such a case.
George narrowed his eyes, listening to Matt Murdock's words, and smiled, "Let's hope so, Mr. Attorney, do you need me to escort you out?"
Matt Murdock waved his hand, "Thank you, I can walk myself."
Why stay here?
Matt Murdock felt that he probably needed to go to the hospital again to find May Parker; his intuition told him that this case didn't seem as simple as it appeared.
Outside the door.
Karen Page, who had been waiting at the door, nervously watching countless police cars wailing as they sped out from the NYPD building in all directions, saw Matt Murdock coming down the stairs and quickly walked up to him, "Matt, what happened?"
Karen Page was the receptionist at Nixon Murdock's law firm, and also served as Matt Murdock's driver when there was a case.
Initially, Karen Page was actually Matt Murdock's client. After Matt Murdock helped her clear her name, she came to the law firm to work as a receptionist. She was very optimistic and, moreover, had some different feelings for Matt Murdock, who had rescued her from her predicament.
"An officer died."
"What?"
Karen Page was stunned by Matt's words. She hadn't known what the death of a police officer meant to the NYPD before, but after becoming a receptionist at the firm, she had gradually learned what it entailed.
"Where…"
Karen Page said, then looked at the large group of officers behind her, all with angry expressions, walking out of the building. She snapped back to reality and swallowed hard, "The NYPD building?"
Oh my god!
Are they crazy?
Karen Page exclaimed in a low voice, "Who is so bold, so reckless?"
Matt Murdock walked to the passenger side, opened the car door, his expression calm, "The primary suspect is this client."
"Who…"
Karen Page stood still, stunned for a moment, then snapped back to reality, turned around, saw Matt already in the car, quickly opened the door, got in, and looked at Matt in the passenger seat, "This client?"
What's going on?
Didn't they say before that the client was an eighteen-year-old high school student?
"Then where's our client, what did he say? And I just heard something about sealing off the island?"
"Hmm."
Matt Murdock buckled his seatbelt, his tone as calm as ever, "Yes, they're sealing off the island. Didn't I tell you? Our client seems to have escaped after killing the officer."
Karen Page froze.
Matt Murdock looked at the car, which hadn't started yet, and at Karen Page, who was in the driver's seat, the key turned halfway, her expression blank. He spoke, "Let's go, first to the hospital, to get some information from Mrs. May Parker."
Karen Page snapped back, "Wait, are we still taking this case?"
The case happened inside the NYPD.
An officer died.
Peter Parker escaped.
Is there any reason to take this case?
Matt Murdock, however, nodded, "I always feel that this case is a bit strange."
As strange as the death of Kingpin!
He and Kingpin had also crossed paths.
Both openly and secretly.
Openly, Matt, as a champion of justice, prevented Kingpin's construction group from acquiring Hell's Kitchen. Secretly, he, as Daredevil, cracked down on Kingpin's various illegal dealings.
He had even directly confronted Kingpin once, and with one punch, Kingpin had sent him flying into the Hudson River. Therefore, he didn't believe the police report about Kingpin's death at all.
After all, Kingpin's mansion was completely wiped out, with no one left alive.
In a word.
The NYPD wouldn't go to such extremes.
So, there was only one possibility: Kingpin had offended someone and was then wiped out by them.
In Matt's opinion, Kingpin could be described as a demon. To be able to wipe out Kingpin's family so cleanly before the police arrived, only a god among men could have done it.
In fact, Matt had also conducted an investigation, and after some digging, he found Bullseye, who was not on the death list that day. Afterward, by following the clues, he discovered something.
Everyone connected to Bullseye had disappeared.
The kind where no one was seen alive and no bodies were found dead.
After that.
Following this clue, digging deeper, one person surfaced.
George Stacy.
Matt Murdock looked up, seemingly seeing George Stacy walking down the steps and then getting into a police car.
On the night Bullseye disappeared and Kingpin's family was annihilated, something else happened in Manhattan: George Stacy's home was attacked.
To be precise, after George Stacy's home was attacked, Kingpin's entire family was wiped out, then Bullseye disappeared, and then, everyone connected to Bullseye mysteriously vanished a few days later.
So… the reason Matt Murdock chose to come to the NYPD after hearing May Parker's account was also because he wanted to secretly investigate George Stacy.
But.
He didn't believe that George Stacy had the ability to kill Kingpin.
In a word.
When Matt shook hands with George just now, he already understood. For someone like George, let alone three, if there were four more, he was confident he could slap George away with one hand.
And similarly, even if Kingpin faced five of him, Matt felt that he would be hammered by Kingpin until his brains were unrecognizable.
It wasn't George, but it must be someone connected to George.
After all, the causal relationship was there.
Matt had also conducted an investigation into George.
Let's put it this way.
His first half of life was calm, but the beginning of his latter half, to be precise, in these two years, he had lived a life like a firecracker, soaring upwards.
Before 2004, George Stacy's reputation was unremarkable. Outside the NYPD and the law enforcement system, probably no more than twenty people had heard of George Stacy.
But after 2004, first, during the full-scale pursuit of the peerless assassin, he single-handedly caught up with the assassin during a live broadcast, forcing the assassin's general appearance into the camera.
Afterward, he personally led a team to dismantle the textile factory, destroying this assassin base located on the outskirts of New York City, rescuing his daughter's boyfriend, and also catching a ride with future mayor Ms. Casey, successfully getting promoted.
A few months ago, he was directly promoted to Chief Superintendent.
It can be said that.
George went from obscurity to one of New York City's top law enforcement giants in just two years.
Accumulating strength and erupting?
Perhaps.
But Matt Murdock's intuition told him that it seemed there was an invisible hand pushing and arranging George's promotions.
Actually, Matt Murdock had not ruled out the possibility that the peerless assassin and George had some unclear relationship, and that the peerless assassin was helping George get promoted.
But… the reason doesn't hold up.
After all, although George Stacy's promotion speed in these two years was somewhat strange, Matt had never doubted George's character, because George's professional ability was extremely strong. If he was willing to compromise, it would be impossible for him to have been merely a detective in the first half of his life.
So, Matt couldn't find any reason why an assassin would help a detective get promoted, especially a detective who had vowed to bring him to justice.
You can't just say that the peerless assassin didn't want George to go on field missions, so he promoted George to reduce his field work.
That answer, no matter how you look at it, seems far-fetched and illogical.
And extremely unscientific.
So.
Matt started from scratch, studying George's file.
Then…
450. Matt, Who Sympathizes with Him
Locke Broughton.
In Matt's view, this man, who was legendary from every angle and difficult to forget, had appeared so blatantly in his line of sight.
Regarding his appearance, frankly, even if Matt couldn't see, just hearing the descriptions from Karen Page and Foggy Nelson made Matt feel so jealous he wanted to disfigure Locke.
As for his experiences, they were even more legendary.
Born in the wild lands of Texas, he started with nothing, but by now, he had a net worth of two hundred million, and it was solid cash flow at that; moreover, the source of every single cent could withstand scrutiny.
Federal and London law enforcement agencies contributed eighty percent of the funds.
He was so damn favored.
And... before reviewing Locke's file, Matt had always felt that Police Chief George Stacy only began to prosper after the Peerless Assassin arrived in New York, but after seeing Locke's file, Matt changed his mind.
George Stacy's rise, to be precise, seemed to have begun after Locke arrived in New York and started dating his daughter, Gwen Stacy.
And, thinking about it this way, it seemed all questions were answered.
The Peerless Assassin had no reason to help his nemesis get a promotion and a raise.
But... what about a son-in-law?
A son-in-law wanting his father-in-law to have a better life, away from the daily hail of bullets, and wanting him to sit in an office, seemed perfectly reasonable.
During the battle at the Textile Factory, the Peerless Assassin was there, and Locke was also present.
Moreover... his second promotion to chief inspector seemed to happen after last year's summer activities. That time, although Matt hadn't discovered where they went, there was no doubt that Georgewas promoted and given a raise once again after that.
Although the law also gave Locke justice, legally ruling that Locke had no connection to the Peerless Assassin.
But, Locke is a wealthy man.
In the eyes of the wealthy in the Federation, the law is never a rope to restrain them, but a rope to help them restrain others.
For a son-in-law worth two hundred million, what's so difficult about getting his father-in-law promoted just to make his future wife happy?
The most important point.
Matt also found that Locke had once commissioned TNT Law Firm to sue The Bell Family for defamation, and The Bell Family eventually ended up in the electric chair.
Although his current client, Peter Parker, hasn't sat in the electric chair yet, judging by the current situation, the time for Peter Parker to do so is likely fast approaching.
"Locke Broughton?"
"Yes."
Because Manhattan Island had been suddenly sealed for unknown reasons, May Parker, who was unable to go to Queens, returned to the hospital. Upon hearing the inquiry from the lawyer Matt Murdock who had arrived, she frowned and said, "I know him. I've heard Peter mention that he's the president of the student council at Midtown High School."
Matt hummed and asked, "Mrs. Parker, may I ask if you know of anything between Peter and Locke, whether good or bad?"
May Parker shook her head. "I'm not sure; Peter didn't say. However..."
"What?"
"Peter was suspended half a month ago, apparently because of the student council."
"Why?"
"Columbia Science Center."
May Parker sat in her chair and gave a truthful account of what had happened at the Columbia Science Center. After all, Matt was a lawyer who had offered to take the case pro bono; if she didn't tell the truth to her lawyer, who could she tell it to?
"My God!"
As May Parker spoke, she looked at the wanted poster featuring Peter Parker's face that was being broadcast on the television. She immediately covered her mouth, and her eyes rolled back.
She fainted.
After another bout of chaos, by the time Matt and Karen Page left the hospital, it was already dark. However, all around them, the sounds of the NYPD's full-scale, city-wide manhunt were only just beginning.
An hour had passed since George ordered the raising of the twenty-one bridges connecting Manhattanto the outside World, and by now, almost everyone in New York knew what had happened.
Wee-woo, wee-woo!
Three Police cars roared past Matt and Karen Page, heading straight into the hospital behind them.
"Let's go."
Matt withdrew his gaze from the three passing Police cars. If there were no surprises, those three cars were there for May Parker. "Back to the office."
They got into the car.
Karen Page looked at Matt, who was sitting in the passenger seat with his head down in thought, clutching his cane. "Did you think of something?" she asked.
Matt shook his head at first, then looked up. "It seems the first Spider Disaster also broke out from the Columbia Science Center."
Karen Page nodded. "Right. Didn't the Pest Control Department release a news report? They said the nest of the Spider Disaster was very close to the ground beneath the Columbia Science Center."
"This vigilante the NYPD is accusing, the one who likes using Spider Silk—when was his first appearance?"
"It should have been about half a month ago."
"To be precise, sixteen days ago."
"Hmm?"
Karen Page looked at Matt and frowned. "What do you mean?"
Matt said, "The first appearance of this vigilante using Spider Silk was over on 35th Avenue in Queens. He found two car thieves and beat them half to death."
"And there's a shop on 35th Avenue."
"What the shop is called isn't important. What matters is that sixteen days ago, someone was shot and killed by a robber in front of that shop, and that robber still hasn't been found."
"And the victim's name was Ben Parker!"
"Coincidences exist in this World, but not this many."
"Just as Matt didn't believe it was a coincidence that Kingpin's entire family was wiped out right after George Stacy's home was attacked, he similarly didn't believe that a vigilante just happened to emerge right after Ben Parker died."
"The vigilante is Peter Parker."
"No way."
Karen Page was slightly stunned. "Peter Parker is only eighteen, and..."
Matt flicked his right hand, producing a folder.
"This is..."
"The case file!"
Matt handed Karen Page the case report that Ryan had given him when he went to the NYPD. "I've read it. The NYPD has already received a report from Curt Connors at Osborn Biologics. Furthermore, they found evidence in Peter Parker's bedroom that links the Spider Silk to him."
Karen Page opened the file and then, suddenly thinking of something, looked up. "Aren't you blind? This isn't in braille; how did you read it?"
"...That's not important."
Matt waved his hand, dismissing the topic, and said to Karen Page, "We're not going back to the office. Go to Grand Central Station."
Grand Central Station is the most important transportation hub on Manhattan Island, though its ranking depends on the context. However, ten days ago, before it was even certain if the Spider Disaster had been completely resolved, even the Department of Homeland Security couldn't hold out any longer and had to announce the resumption of operations there.
Although the first Spider Disaster broke out from the Columbia Science Center,
the one that truly erupted was the wave at Grand Central Station. That was the wave that made Manhattanites realize there was a massive spider nest right beneath their feet.
Not long ago, the spiders being dragged out were transported in trucks. Back and forth, they filled nearly fifty vehicles. Otherwise, why would the media, in an attempt to grab headlines, call it a genocide in the spider World?
"Go to Grand Central Station?"
Karen Page frowned. "...You don't think Peter Parker will be there, do you?"
Matt nodded.
Manhattan Island has been locked down; all twenty-one bridges have been closed, and all ground traffic is prohibited. However, this doesn't hinder the people on Wall Street, as they more or less have their own private helicopters.
But can Peter Parker fly a helicopter?
With Manhattan Island under a total blockade, let alone a high school student like Peter Parker, even a top-tier assassin would eventually have to kneel and surrender in the face of the NYPD's full-scale carpet search.
Spider Silk.
Spider.
Spider nest.
For some reason, Matt's intuition told him that if Peter Parker hadn't been captured yet, he must be hiding underground.
However, Karen Page said with some concern, "Do you know this for a fact, or is it just a guess? Maybe we should tell the NYPD..."
This time, it involves the death of a Police Officer.
It would be one thing if Peter Parker wasn't there, but if he is, and the NYPD happens to arrive afterward, things will get very messy. When dealing with a case involving the death of an officer, New York City doesn't care if you're a lawyer.
"No."
"What?"
Matt nodded. "You're right. Let's head back to the office first."
Forget it.
Let's go back to the office first.
However, this didn't mean Matt was giving up on Grand Central Station. It was just that Karen had reminded him that it really wasn't suitable for him to go there so openly. After all, an unremarkable sedan had been tailing him the whole time.
Matt's senses were enhanced. Even though he knew a Police Officer was tailing him, he still wanted to go and take a look.
For no other reason than this:
Because... Peter Parker seemed to be just like him, both being mutants in a certain sense...
Four Hundred and Fifty-One: Kingpin is coming?
Matt Murdock knew where his abilities came from.
So... it was easy for him to accept that, for example, other people might also have their potential awakened due to certain events, transforming into what he called "mutants."
Matt felt that Peter Parker seemed to be a mutant like him.
And even... someone he was familiar with.
Half a month ago, a Spider-Man wearing a spider-like costume went to the underground fighting ring in Hell's Kitchen to participate in illegal boxing matches.
Matt had heard at the time that a skinny kid, calling himself Spider-Man and wearing a spider costume, had appeared at the underground fighting ring and defeated a champion who had defended his title five times in a row.
One punch.
Just one punch, and he sent the five-time defending champion, a strongman weighing over a hundred pounds, clutching his stomach and throwing up all over the ring.
A two-hundred-pound strongman throwing up in the ring.
Good heavens, the imagery instantly came to mind.
Moreover, to be beaten into such a state by a skinny kid with one punch, the scene looked comical no matter how you viewed it. So, one night half a month ago, Matt went to witness it.
And then... Matt sensed something abnormal about that Spider-Man fighter. Originally, Matt had thought of finding this Spider-Man later to chat and get to know him, but in all these days, that Spider-Man had never appeared again.
Until now, everything seemed to become clear.
Because the last time Spider-Man appeared in the ring seemed to be sixteen days ago, which was the day Ben Parker was shot and killed by a robber.
This seemed to further corroborate that Peter Parker was the vigilante the NYPD spoke of, and also the illegal boxer, calling himself Spider-Man, whom he had been searching for.
Suddenly.
Matt felt an incredibly strong urge, an impulse to meet this Peter Parker and get to the bottom of things.
As for Peter Parker killing a police officer?
Matt still found it hard to believe. After all, in Matt's opinion, if Peter Parker was a mutant like him, he wouldn't hesitate to kill a police officer, there would be no reason for him to fight in illegal boxing matches for money, nor would he simply tie up criminals and hang them at the entrance of the NYPD building after catching them.
Again, the same old saying.
This case, it seems, is not as simple as it looks.
So... after returning to the office, Matt sent Karen Page, the front desk receptionist, home, saying he would stay in the office that night to organize the material on hand.
Karen Page wanted to stay and accompany Matt.
But Matt insisted that Karen Page should go home, using the Manhattan island lockdown as an excuse. Under Matt's persistence, Karen Page reluctantly turned and left the office.
After a while.
Matt, leaning on the sofa, took off his sunglasses. His pale eyes, as if shining brightly, rose directly and walked towards the office's cloakroom.
Not long after.
Thud!
Matt, dressed in a black jacket, all in black, and wearing a hat that covered his face down to his nose, landed steadily on the ground from behind the office, then turned his head and glanced at a spot not far from the office's main entrance.
There, an unremarkable black Chevrolet was parked by the roadside.
Matt could even hear the heartbeats of the two plainclothes officers inside the car.
The next second.
Matt left his original position, and then, like an unrestrained wind, he seemed to perfectly blend into the darkness, darting through the chaotic alleys of Hell's Kitchen, rapidly approaching Grand Central Station.
When Manhattan Island entered a full lockdown and alert due to the police murder case, Grand Central Station also temporarily ceased operations. However, despite the suspension, one shouldn't assume it was deserted. In fact, after the suspension, the number of people at Grand Central Station was even greater than when it was operating.
Because all the police forces from the Thirty-First Precinct of Manhattan Island had been deployed, like a spider web, from inside to out, not even sparing the restrooms, they were screening every single passenger who was temporarily stranded at Grand Central Station due to the train suspension.
Therefore, trying to directly enter Grand Central Station at this time, ignoring the large number of police officers, would simply be a pipe dream.
Locke might be able to try it.
But Matt, Matt wasn't from the Assassin's League and didn't know their stealth techniques.
However, Matt hadn't planned on entering the underground directly from Grand Central Station anyway.
In a word.
New York City's underground transportation is extensive. On the surface, you might be unable to enter certain places due to various reasons, but underground, with a few turns and finding some connections, it might be possible.
Historically, in all major robberies in New York City, without exception, even if the robbers didn't attack from underground, they would choose to leave through the underground after successfully completing their mission.
Matt even preferred the underground to the surface because, in this underground transportation network, which was no less impressive than the surface, there was more silence and less noise.
"Drip!"
"Buzz!"
"Drip!"
After Matt entered the underground transportation network directly from a sewer near the outskirts of Hell's Kitchen, he let go of the powerful hearing he usually controlled.
In an instant.
This dense, spiderweb-like transportation network existing beneath New York City instantly appeared in Matt's mind in the form of a map.
Where were the dead ends.
Where couldn't he go.
It was all clear at a glance.
Even clearer than what he could see with his eyes.
After all, eyes can deceive a person, but what is seen with the heart cannot be deceived.
"Peter Parker."
"What..."
"You are..."
Matt looked up slightly, towards a passage extending to who knows where, a smile appearing on his lips: "Found you."
In the underground space near the Lincoln Center Station on 66th Street.
Also in a secret platform.
At this very moment.
Peter Parker was facing another Peter Parker.
No!
He was facing three other individuals who claimed to be Peter Parker, but whose skin color and age were completely different, staring at each other.
"Who are you...?"
"Your world is in danger."
"What?"
"Kingpin is coming."
"..."
Among them, one Peter Parker, wearing a fedora and a black trench coat, giving off the impression of someone living in the Great Depression of the 30th century, observed the confused Peter Parker in front of him and said, "It seems that the me of this world isn't doing so well."
Peter Parker frowned: "What are you talking about?"
This Peter Parker, who looked very old-fashioned, took off his fedora: "Peter Parker, you can call me, Spider-Man Noir!"
Next to him, a brown-haired Peter Parker with a full beard, looking quite down and out, took a sip of his coffee, his voice sounding world-weary: "Spider-Man of Despair, a piece of advice for you: stay away from Mary Jane. She will only bring you pain. Women always want romance, no matter how much they say they don't."
As he spoke.
The Peter Parker who called himself Spider-Man of Despair let out a burp.
Clearly.
His coffee cup didn't contain coffee, but alcohol.
Peter Parker couldn't help but cover his nose, waving his hand, confirming the smell of the burp was 98% proof vodka.
He was still in a daze.
Just then.
"Hey, hey!"
"..."
Peter Parker's gaze mechanically shifted, then landed on a cute-looking mech. He gulped: "You're also Peter Parker?"
He could accept the parallel universe setting, but he couldn't accept the idea that he was a robot in another parallel universe.
Just then.
"Hiss!"
The mech opened, and a black-haired, seemingly middle school-aged, mixed-race beauty, not even a high schooler, emerged, glancing at Peter Parker.
That look made Peter Parker suddenly feel very familiar.
It was as if the way some noble goddesses at school looked at him was the same.
How did it go?
A goddess... looking at a commoner?
"I'm not you."
Peni Parker jumped down from the mech, tidied her soft hair, and looked at Peter Parker: "Peni Parker. If I hadn't been dragged here by this guy, I wouldn't have come. After all, my world doesn't have a guy like Kingpin."
Spider-Man Noir, being watched by Peni Parker, shrugged: "I can't help it. Among the Spider-Men I know, only you have this level of technology. And you're also called Parker. Although the gender is different, you are us."
Peni Parker rolled her eyes, crossing her arms: "I haven't been bitten by a spider, and I can't shoot webs. And are you sure you found the right person? This guy can't even shoot webs."
"Should be correct."
"Is that so?"
"Father named Richard, mother named Mary, both parents deceased, living with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, bitten by a spider, mutated."
Spider-Man Noir ticked off the points on his fingers, then nodded, very certain: "Yep, didn't find the wrong person, it's him, the Spider-Man of this world."
Peni Parker quickly interrupted: "My Uncle Ben is alive and well."
"You're a girl."
"...What do you mean?"
"With the gender changed, it's normal for things to be a bit different in your world."
"..."
Peni Parker opened her mouth, then shook her head, pointing at Peter Parker, who was looking at her with a strange expression, and said, "But this guy doesn't seem like it either. You know, this guy even spied on Mary Jane, and was even inexplicably caught by the NYPD without even wearing his Spider-Man suit."
Peter Parker: "..."
More chapters available on WTR-LAB up to chapter 711: A certain marvel super player
Continue from 454/711