Ethan Cole worked through the night, fingers flying across the keyboard in a rhythm born of obsession. By dawn, the software he envisioned was not only complete, but fully operational. Using a layered exploit to bypass New York's older surveillance infrastructure—still decades behind the likes of S.H.I.E.L.D. or Oscorp's proprietary systems—he successfully embedded a facial recognition algorithm into the citywide camera network. It was now directly linked to his computer at home.
To stay updated while out in the field, Ethan crafted a discreet wearable—disguised as a cufflink button—programmed to vibrate and heat up subtly whenever the system flagged a potential match. The idea was simple: if the target, Rick Frey, appeared on any street camera or entered a monitored building, the alert would notify him instantly, no matter where he was.
"I'd just use a smartphone if they were half as smart as the ones from my last life," he muttered, shaking his head in mild frustration. Even StarkPhones hadn't hit the market yet. For now, his tech had to make up for it.
Prior to this, Ethan had already considered leveraging future knowledge to invest in companies poised for growth—Stark Industries, Rand Enterprises, Horizon Labs, and even small firms he knew would explode in value post-Avengers era. He had invested carefully, spreading funds across multiple sectors including clean energy and biotech. But those returns would take time.
Once things settled, he planned to reevaluate and refine his portfolio. The blueprint was in his head, and execution would follow. For now, vengeance came first.
After configuring the software and initiating the background processes, Ethan collapsed into bed. If he didn't finish everything in one sitting, his mind wouldn't rest anyway.
Venom, sensing his host's exhaustion, chose not to disturb him. Instead, it slithered silently to the nearby chocolate box on the table, peeled it open with one tendril, and began munching greedily with another. The alien symbiote's wide mouth gnawed the chocolates as if savoring rare prey, even though it wasn't the head it truly craved.
But for now, chocolate would suffice.
Ethan slept well past morning. The sun had long passed its zenith when he finally stirred awake around four in the afternoon.
"You're up~ hic!" Venom hiccupped, lounging atop the table, bloated and content. It had finished nearly the entire box and was now sipping soda straight from the bottle with childlike satisfaction.
Ethan blinked away the sleep, sat up, and stared blankly at the scene. His stomach rumbled slightly, reminding him he hadn't eaten since the previous day.
"Let's go out. I need some food. Maybe walk a bit." He stretched and yawned.
Venom slithered back to his shoulder with a grin. "Perfect. I want more chocolate. I sampled some new brands online—they sound delicious."
Ethan gave a short laugh. "Your brain's wired for sugar."
Despite Venom's monstrous visage—rows of jagged teeth, a hulking physique, and a voice that could unnerve the strongest man—his personality was strangely innocent when it came to food. A creature of primal instinct, but with a taste for Earth's simple pleasures.
They took Ethan's beat-up car—an old Corolla he'd purchased with leftover funds—and drove into the city. Eventually, they found a cozy little café near Greenwich Village. It had an artsy aesthetic, brick walls adorned with local paintings, and a chalkboard menu listing pastries with names that sounded more poetic than appetizing.
Though labeled a café, it served full meals, desserts, and rich espresso drinks. Ethan picked a quiet corner table and ordered a light brunch along with black coffee. As he ate, he flipped through a well-worn collection of Chinese prose—essays and short stories he'd packed when he first arrived in this universe.
Though he could read and write English fluently now, thanks in part to Venom's neural bridge, familiar Chinese characters were still his comfort zone. After hours of lectures, homework, and university essays, returning to his native language felt like coming home.
Meanwhile, under the table, Venom had taken full advantage of their secluded spot. Using a sliver of its biomass, it manipulated several utensils and began scarfing down leftover pastries, sausages, and any unattended side dish with barely a sound.
Three chocolate cakes had already disappeared into the void of Venom's bottomless stomach.
Ethan, noticing the waitstaff's occasional suspicious glances, sighed. "You know, they probably think I'm the one devouring everything."
Venom grinned invisibly, cheeks bulging. "Let them. You're building a reputation. A legend. The Cake Devourer."
He couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself. The irony was uncanny. Here he was—part vigilante, part hacker, part host to a dangerous alien symbiote—and the most pressing concern at the moment was not being mistaken for a dessert-obsessed glutton.
Outside, life in New York pulsed on—buses roared past, sirens echoed in the distance, pigeons fluttered from lamppost to bench. The world kept moving, unaware that beneath this quiet moment of laughter and food, a plan for blood and retribution was already unfolding.
Soon, the name Rick Frey would be more than just another file in a corrupted police database.
He would be found.
Shaking his head to clear the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind, Ethan Cole returned his focus to the worn book in his hands.
After an uncertain stretch of time, the ambient light around him suddenly dimmed.
Lifting his head, Ethan found a tall, striking figure standing beside him—a blonde with piercing blue eyes and an air of confident grace.
"Seeing you so engrossed in reading, it's no wonder your academic record is so impressive," Felicia Hardy said, knitting her elegant brows in mock distress.
"Felicia? What are you doing here?" Ethan's surprise was evident. The last person he expected to see was the infamous Black Cat herself.
Felicia Hardy had been Ethan's classmate from high school through university—just like Peter Parker, though their relationship was very different.
That's why she remarked on his academic prowess; she'd watched his steady rise from an excellent student to a promising genius.
Despite sharing the same classes since high school, Ethan and Felicia only truly connected when they became partners on the university's science research team.
Back in high school, although Ethan was smart, good-looking, and physically fit—traits that earned him quiet respect—he kept to himself, usually heading straight home after class and avoiding parties or clubs.
Some classmates, fueled by jealousy, spread rumors—calling him a "yellow-skinned freak" obsessed with grades, or worse, implying he was mentally unstable.
Though those accusations were baseless and ridiculous, many peers maintained a wary distance, including Felicia herself at the time.
She now felt regretful for having once believed such nonsense.
It was obvious: Ethan Cole was exceptional—handsome, poised, brilliant academically, and with a charming, polite demeanor.
Realizing how unfair the rumors had been, Felicia grew to despise such gossip and gradually grew close to Ethan through their shared work in the science team.
Hearing Ethan's surprised question, Felicia raised her brows teasingly and feigned indignation: "Can't I just sit and chat? Ethan, you're too rude."
Her gentle reproach made Ethan realize he had been somewhat abrupt, so he quickly gestured for her to take a seat across from him.
Once seated, Felicia smiled warmly and said, "I went out for a walk because I was bored staying cooped up at home. Didn't expect to run into you here."
Ethan returned the smile. "Quite the coincidence. By the way, what do you want to drink?"
"A latte, please," Felicia answered after a brief moment, addressing the nearby barista.
Ethan hadn't expected to encounter Felicia today, especially since he'd barely left his apartment in recent days. Running into an old acquaintance so soon felt almost like fate.
"How was your break? You can't have been studying non-stop all vacation, right?" Felicia asked as she picked up the coffee just brought over.
Ethan hesitated briefly, then replied softly, "Pretty much the same as usual. No trips, just helping out at the store and wandering around the city."
Felicia nodded knowingly, unsurprised by his answer.
"Oh, and how's Grandpa York? I've been traveling all holidays and missed his pizza."
"He promised me a special cod pizza the last time I saw him. Now that I'm back, I'm definitely going to try it," Felicia said happily, oblivious to Ethan's brief pause and the bittersweet smile that flickered across his face.