On a quiet park path, laughter echoed—clear and crisp.
Eighteen-year-old Gwen Stacy looked dazzling under the evening sky, her blonde hair shining in the faint light. Her youthful energy and confidence were almost infectious.
Even after living two lives, Ryan still found himself captivated by Gwen's vibrant charm.
Blonde. Young. Beautiful. Fiery.
You had to admit—among Marvel's luck-blessed women, Gwen had her own unique glow.
Sometimes, Ryan couldn't help feeling grateful that her father was a police officer. Otherwise, with Gwen's looks and spirit, keeping her safe might have been impossible.
The two walked side by side, laughing and teasing each other. By the time they reached a third of the way down the park path, the sky had already darkened.
Thanks to a few tricks from the Yin-Yang Harmonious Union Path Legacy, Ryan had a way of making Gwen smile without even trying.
Just as Ryan was debating whether to take a bit of "interest" before any dual cultivation practice, a burst of chaotic shouting caught his attention.
"F*ck! Why are there people here? Press, weren't you supposed to keep watch?"
"Boss, this woman—could she be a cop?"
"Cop your sister! What kind of cop brings her kid to a drug deal? Handle it!"
"Heh, Boss, before you deal with her, can I have some fun first—"
"Fun your mom! You high again? Get your head straight before the buyer sees us!"
The cursing grew louder.
Without Ryan needing to say a word, Gwen spotted several armed men ahead, surrounding a terrified woman clutching her child.
"Ryan!" she whispered, alarmed.
"Don't panic," Ryan said quietly, pulling her close. "Stay still. They won't notice us."
At the corner of the path, Gwen's breath hitched as the scene unfolded. Ryan could feel her trembling slightly in his arms—the soft scent of her hair filling the air.
But he underestimated Gwen Stacy's sense of justice.
As one of the future Spider-Women, her moral compass was unshakable. After her initial fear faded, she clenched her fists, her eyes burning with resolve.
Ryan sighed inwardly and tightened his hold.
"Gwen, don't be impulsive."
"Ryan, they're going to kill that mother and child!"
"I know. But they've got guns. We should call the police—"
"That'll be too late," Gwen pleaded. "Please, help them!"
Even while pressed against Ryan, she couldn't suppress her conscience. Their eyes met—Gwen's sapphire eyes full of sorrow and urgency.
Within Ryan's spiritual perception, he suddenly sensed someone else.
Two hundred meters away, a white man holding an ice cream cone was strolling toward the park—completely unaware of what was happening.
But Ryan immediately noticed it: the faint aura of a seasoned soldier, cold and dangerous.
A flash of inspiration struck.
That aura…
Frank Castle. The Punisher.
A name known across the Marvel world—an anti-hero forged by tragedy, ruthless, relentless, and broken.
Ryan's lips curled into a faint smile.
So, this was that night—the night Frank's life would change forever. The night his wife and child would die.
These days, becoming a hero was practically a curse. Lose your parents, your uncle, your loved ones—pick your tragedy.
Ryan exhaled slowly.
Meeting me is your luck, Frank.
He looked at Gwen's pleading eyes and smiled softly. "Alright. For you, Gwen."
Her breath caught as he added, "Promise me one thing—stay here. Don't move."
He kissed her gently on the forehead, then turned and walked toward the danger.
Behind him, Gwen's eyes shimmered, her heart pounding as she watched his back fade into the shadows.
In that moment, emotion and admiration welled up into something deeper love.
Still, regret gnawed at her.
Those men had guns!
She was about to call out when Ryan moved.
He leapt forward—swift and silent like a predator in the dark.
The wind rose.
A tiger descended from the mountain.
In just a few bounds, Ryan covered more than ten meters and silently took down two armed thugs at the edge of the deal site.
For him, dealing with small-time gangsters was child's play.
Even without channeling his Qi or spells, his body—refined through the Nine Apertures Golden Core—had the strength to rival half a Hulk.
"Take your child and run that way," Ryan told the terrified woman, his tone calm but firm. "Don't look back."
"Sir, what about you?" she asked shakily.
"I need to negotiate with the bad guys," he said with a faint smile. "Otherwise, they won't let anyone leave."
She hesitated, then, seeing him reload the pistols with practiced precision, simply nodded.
"Thank you."
Gripping her child's hand, she ran toward Gwen's hiding spot without another word.
Moments later, the remaining thugs noticed the disturbance.
"What the hell was that noise—"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three clean gunshots echoed through the park.
Three bodies dropped before they even realized what hit them.
Panic erupted.
"Sh*t! We're under attack!"
Ryan's expression stayed calm—almost amused.
As darkness fell over the park, he moved through the shadows like a cat toying with cornered mice.
Gunfire flashed. Screams echoed. One by one, the gangsters fell.
Two hundred meters away, Frank Castle froze mid-step, his soldier's instincts kicking in.
The sound of gunfire sliced through the night air.
His expression hardened instantly.
He tossed the ice cream aside, vaulted over the nearest fence, and sprinted toward the gunfire—toward the tragedy that was about to rewrite his destiny.