Finishing his first day of October classes, Peter Parker walked out of school. Changing costumes was becoming increasingly easy now. At first, he had to find a place to change for half an hour, then it was a portable suit, and now Venom could complete the transformation in just one second.
[You're hesitating.]
Venom's voice echoed in Peter's mind. Peter sighed; he knew what Venom was referring to. He was somewhat inclined to accept Osborn Tech's sponsorship to see what big plans Osborn was cooking up, but at the same time, he worried about Harry, who was clearly dissatisfied with his father.
"I have to figure out a way that works for everyone, don't I?"
Hacking the school's surveillance and setting it to loop, Peter looked around, then used Venom to pry open Felicia's locker. He placed a box inside. Venom completed all this while expressing its confusion.
[Then why don't you tell him you're Spider-Man?]
Peter was momentarily at a loss for how to answer Venom.
[Do you trust him?]
"I... we've only known each other for a month."
[We only met yesterday.]
"That's because..."
That's because he knew Venom's nature, but Peter didn't say that out loud because the logic didn't follow. If he could accept Venom simply because he knew its characteristics, then there was no reason to hide it from Harry. Why hide it from him?
"You're right, we'll tell Harry I'm Spider-Man, and then figure out a win-win solution. That's much simpler than not telling him and then trying to figure it out."
[I'm a genius.]
Venom said proudly, helping Peter lock Felicia's locker after he closed it.
The moment Felicia placed her hand on her locker, she immediately knew someone had tampered with it. Thinking it over carefully, there was only one person in the entire school who would have a reason to do such a thing.
With a displeased expression, Felicia opened her locker. Surprisingly, the person who opened it hadn't pretended nothing happened. Instead, they had left something inside: an exquisite gift box, with a greeting card featuring a crude drawing of a black cat, and a sticky note with a small spider web drawn in the corner.
Undoubtedly, the person who left this box intentionally wanted to tell Felicia that they had prepared a gift for her, and they had used a method only a thief would—picking the lock.
And he also knew she wouldn't go home until after basketball practice, so by the time she saw it, not many people would notice the box.
"Looks like Spider-Man's art class wasn't great either."
Felicia, in a much better mood, raised an eyebrow and placed her hand on the box. She briefly considered checking if the box was safe, but dismissed the thought and picked up the sticky note instead.
[I noticed you're still using your old equipment, so I figured these things would make you owe me another favor.]
Felicia raised an eyebrow, then opened the box. There wasn't much inside: a brand new grappling hook gun, which looked better than her own; a pair of orange goggles with silver-grey frames, which Felicia picked up to see tactical information flashing across them.
A new pair of gloves, which seemed even more convenient than her own.
A dark silver belt, cleverly designed with many discreet storage compartments, and it wouldn't reflect too much light at night. In the very center of the belt was a cute, geometrically-drawn cat head.
"Oh, you're really cute."
Felicia picked up the belt, though it was unclear if she was referring to the belt itself.
Just by picking it up, Felicia could tell that these pieces of equipment definitely had trackers inside, but after a moment's thought, she decided to ignore it.
Wouldn't it be fun to occasionally take a few spins around certain large museums at night, just to keep Peter Parker from sleeping soundly?
Maybe he would even genuinely worry that she was stealing something and come running out in the middle of the night to find her.
Felicia thought, the corners of her mouth curving upwards. She didn't intend to completely defy Peter Parker, but she also didn't plan on being obedient.
What kind of cat would be obedient?
A few hours later, as night fell over Manhattan, the moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the thinly clouded expanse.
Felicia Hardy put on her costume, donned the new equipment given by someone, and activated the tactical information display on her goggles, looking at her target.
New York was vast, with many places for Black Cat to explore, and Black Cat wasn't a thief who specifically stole from the poor and innocent.
Since Kingpin's surrender, countless gangs, large and small, had sprung up. Some were merely transient figures in New York's underworld, soon to be completely forgotten. But some gangs had complex, intertwined backing, involving many different individuals, and even truly possessed the capital to rise. They dreamed of becoming the next Fisk.
And their various files and passwords, dealings with politicians, evidence of illegal activities, smuggled dangerous goods—these were far more thrilling than bank vaults and safety deposit boxes. This was what a cat should pursue.
New York, Manhattan, Riker's Island Prison.
Kingpin had just finished dinner and was watching news on TV about Spider-Man and the Defenders busting a secret US Army human experimentation base. After seeing the news, Kingpin, furious, instantly transformed into a "desktop cleanup master," sweeping everything off the table onto the floor.
He wasn't angry at Spider-Man; Spider-Man was a meddling Avenger. Kingpin knew full well he couldn't be a match for the Avengers, so he never intended to defeat Spider-Man. The Avengers couldn't possibly keep an eye on New York all the time, and as for Spider-Man, there were always ways to keep him busy. This was Kingpin's confidence that he could still wield immense power.
But Daredevil and the others were different. These individuals genuinely stayed in New York. If they united, they could cause devastating damage to Kingpin's business. After smashing everything, he took a rest, then sighed.
Thinking it over, there wasn't no way to deal with the Defenders. So he just needed to figure out a way to keep Spider-Man busy while his business operations were underway.
He rang a bell, summoning a prison guard.
"Do you need anything, Mr. Fisk?"
Kingpin smiled and nodded to the guard: "I need to make a phone call."
The prison guard nodded and handed a satellite phone to Kingpin. Kingpin dialed a number, then gave instructions to the other end.
"Could you inform Sergei Kravinoff? Just tell him his brother died at Spider-Man's hands."