"Oh! George, Gwen, Jessica… you're all here! Oh… and you too, little girl. Your name's Matilda, right?"
Ben Parker and Aunt May were already waiting at the door. When Jack Kadere and the others arrived, they welcomed them warmly.
"Come in quickly! We've been busy since morning preparing a big meal," Aunt May said, her face glowing with that familiar warmth.
"Hahaha~"
Parting with an old friend always carried a bittersweet taste. George Stacy was unusually sentimental as he handed a farewell gift to Ben Parker and smiled.
"Then I'll have to enjoy this properly. It won't be so easy to taste your cooking again in the future."
Jack clapped George on the shoulder, half-laughing. "Alright, George, don't exaggerate so much. It's not like we're leaving New York forever. Come on, let's head inside."
"Haha! True enough," Ben Parker agreed. "George, you'll still have plenty of chances to join us."
"Yes, yes…" George chuckled, though in his heart he knew otherwise. With his workload as NYPD's Captain—and often being tied up with superhuman incidents—it was rare for him to sit down like this. He doubted such gatherings would come often again.
[…Detecting Gwen Stacy's destined enemy… 'Mr. Negative' Martin Li…]
Jack, catching the system's familiar whisper, froze for a moment. His gaze sharpened as he turned toward Aunt May. "By the way, Aunt May… are there any other guests today?"
"Oh, yes," Aunt May answered brightly. "It's Mr. Martin from F.E.A.S.T."
She pushed the door open, revealing an Asian man in a pristine white suit with a black shirt beneath. He sat at the dining table, his smile polite but unreadable.
"He came by to visit," Aunt May continued. "I've been volunteering at his shelter, and since I was already cooking, I invited him to stay. Mr. Martin is a very good man."
Martin Li kept his trademark genial expression, but his eyes scanned the newcomers carefully. His glance briefly passed over Gwen, Jack, and Matilda, before settling more intently on George and Jessica.
He recognized both of them instantly.
George Stacy—captain of the NYPD, a man whose name carried weight on both sides of the law.
And Jessica Jones—the super-powered private investigator, once known in the press as a masked vigilante and still regarded as a dangerous wild card.
Though Jessica's public profile had quieted in recent months, her reputation had not dimmed.
If I can befriend people like them… it would greatly benefit me, Martin thought, his smile widening as he rose from his seat.
He greeted George first, hand outstretched. "Hello, Captain Stacy. My name is Martin Li."
Introduced by the ever-trusting Parkers, George saw only a benevolent philanthropist. He shook the man's hand with respect. "Ah, Mr. Li. I've heard of your work with F.E.A.S.T. It's admirable. You know, my spare room might be put to better use housing some of the kind souls you help."
Jack's lips curled slightly. Better not offer space to members of The Inner Demons…
He shot Gwen a subtle look.
She blinked, confused. Gwen had never crossed paths with Mr. Negative, nor had she reason yet to doubt Martin Li.
With no choice, Jack leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "This Martin Li isn't what he seems. Don't let your dad be fooled."
It was the first time Jack had spoken to her so closely in front of George, and Gwen's cheeks turned pink. She whispered back, "Jack… Dad will listen to you more than me…"
Ben Parker noticed their hushed tones and couldn't resist teasing. "Well, well! Gwen and Jack have grown up. I wonder when Peter will bring a girlfriend home, too."
At Peter's mention, Aunt May's smile softened. She looked at Jack with gratitude. "I know I've said it before, but thank you again, Jack—and you too, Jessica—for looking out for Peter. How has he been lately?"
Jack released Gwen's hand, nodded, and replied with a smile, "He's still at the Club, and Ned's keeping an eye on him."
"That's a relief," Aunt May said, visibly comforted. "Ned's a good boy as well."
During this exchange, Martin Li studied Jack again. The man was surrounded not only by Gwen, but by several other strong, capable young women—Jessica among them. Even the usually reserved Matilda seemed comfortable in his presence.
Ben Parker made the formal introduction. "This is Jack Kadere. He's a very talented painter, a doctor of arts, and a remarkable young man."
To Aunt May and Ben, Jack was still the brilliant young artist they had met before. They didn't understand the depth of his current influence through the mysterious Club, and so they spoke of him only as an academic talent.
[Just an artist?]
Martin Li smiled politely, though inwardly he dismissed him. Still, he extended his hand. "What a coincidence, Mr. Kadere. I'm of Eastern descent as well—surname Li. I'm also fascinated by art."
"My surname's Kadere," Jack replied, his voice cool. His lips curved into a faint smile, but he didn't raise his hand to meet Martin's.
He hadn't thought much of Wilson Fisk, the so-called Kingpin of Crime—so why would he bother with Martin Li? If not for Aunt May's presence, Jack would have already ended this charade and collected the reward himself.
Martin Li's smile froze mid-air.
The table's atmosphere stiffened, an awkward silence creeping in.
"Sorry, Mr. Martin," Ben Parker quickly stepped in, embarrassed. "You know how artists can be. They sometimes have quirks. Jack is still a good man at heart."
"Hehe…" Martin's smile returned, though a flicker of coldness hid in his expression. "Is that so."
But beneath that smooth exterior, the leader of The Inner Demons was seething. It had been years since anyone dared disrespect him so blatantly.
...
The meal ended on a strained note.
Though Aunt May and Ben tried to keep the atmosphere cheerful, Martin Li's departure was tinged with unease. He walked back to his black luxury car, pausing only once to give Jack a lingering, sharp look before driving off into the night.
Jack watched from the Parker family's doorway, his arms folded, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Hmph. You thought you could come here with a smile and walk away so easily? A reward like you doesn't just show up at my doorstep and escape."
The black car disappeared down the street, but the tension it left behind still lingered.
...
[Another pitch, it's a high fly foul ball… the score is tied four to four with the Dodgers.]
An old radio crackled as it broadcast a baseball game.
[The tension is unbelievable tonight! He swings—this young man has the chance to strike out the side again!]
Steve Rogers opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on the ceiling fan above him. The voice on the broadcast washed over him, pulling at a memory long buried.
His eyes were full of confusion.
Wasn't this game back in May? Why… why is it playing live now?
[The game here at Ebbets Field is on fire! The Phillies have kept the Dodgers tied at four to four, with three men on base…]
Click.
The door opened, and a nurse dressed in an old-fashioned U.S. Army Nurse Corps uniform entered the room, smiling politely.
"Good morning," she greeted warmly.
Steve frowned, his voice wary. "Where am I?"
"You're in a post-operative recovery room in New York," the nurse replied with a reassuring tone.
Steve narrowed his eyes, asking again, "Where exactly am I?"
The nurse paused, her smile stiffening for just a fraction of a second. Then she chuckled lightly, "I don't quite understand what you mean."
Steve's voice hardened. "…I was at the scene."
"What?"
Before she could react, Steve moved.
Bang—!!
The wall shook as steel frames and wood paneling shattered. The supposedly old-fashioned lounge was ripped open, exposing the gleaming corridors of a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility hidden behind the façade.
Dust and debris rained down. Steve's sharp blue eyes scanned the alien environment in a split second. Without hesitation, he bolted toward the exit with the speed and urgency of a soldier fresh off the battlefield.
"Captain Rogers! Wait—!"
The agent in disguise as the nurse scrambled for her communicator, panic rising in her voice. "All units! Emergency alert, emergency alert—!"
[…Emergency alert!] […All Agents, Captain Rogers is active!]
…
Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Martin Li was restless.
His senses twitched with unease, his stomach knotting as if a storm was about to break over his head. Ever since leaving the Lower East Side, he had felt it—a lingering malice, heavy and deliberate, dogging his every move.
Martin gripped the steering wheel tighter, sweat beading at his brow.
…Someone was watching him.
Up above, perched silently on the rooftop shadows, Jack Kadere—known in the underworld as the Black Spider—observed his target with cold amusement.
He hadn't bothered to suppress his aura, allowing Martin to feel his presence in the same way a mouse knows the cat is just out of sight.
Mr. Negative. A villain, sure… but not one with any personal score against me. Still… a bounty's a bounty. I'll rough him up a little. He deserves worse, especially after all those years running human smuggling rackets and cheating his own people.
Jack smiled faintly beneath the mask. Time to play.
The feeling of malice around Martin intensified. His pulse spiked, and his skin tingled as if his darker half was clawing to the surface.
He gritted his teeth. He knew. Someone was definitely hunting him.
[Could it be the Maggia?]
Frantic, Martin fumbled for his phone, steering one-handed while punching in a call to his Inner Demons enforcers. "Get over here, now!" he barked.
He barely exhaled in relief when—
Bang!
A dark figure crashed onto the hood of his car, crumpling metal under boot. The vehicle screeched to a halt.
"Black Spider!!" Martin's pupils shrank in horror.
Clang!
The air around them seemed to weigh heavier. His infamy wasn't enough to frighten the hunter before him, but the pressure was undeniable.
With a desperate motion, Martin kicked open the driver's door and rolled free of the wreck, tumbling onto the pavement. His body convulsed as black-and-white energy veins crept across his skin, crawling like mercury until they consumed him completely.
In moments, his true self emerged.
Mr. Negative stood tall, his voice trembling with fury. "What do you want, Black Spider?!"
The shame burned hotter than the rage. His identity, carefully hidden for years, had been dragged into daylight by this masked predator.
Jack's tone was mocking, his trench coat flaring as he stepped from the crumpled car. "I want a match, Mr. Li. I've heard your… 'special effects' are impressive. Care to give me a demonstration?"
He kicked the wrecked car casually, sending it screeching back across the asphalt to clear space.
The street was already thick with onlookers. A wall of civilians had formed at a safe distance, smartphones raised as they streamed every moment.
The sight of Black Spider towering over Mr. Negative electrified the crowd.
Martin's heart sank. That car… his weapon, the cursed ancient sword, was locked in the trunk.
Damn it! He knew. He's been watching me. Someone in the gang betrayed me!
His face twisted in hate. If I live through this, I'll burn out the traitors one by one.
But Jack Kadere had no idea his simple kick had sent Martin spiraling into paranoia.
Jack clenched his fist. The ground rumbled. Pavement cracked and split as rubble lifted, slowly swirling together into the hulking shape of a stone giant.
Runes flickered across its rocky body, its eyes glowing faintly blue as life sparked within it.
The Thor template granted Jack Kadere a fragment of rune knowledge. It wasn't profound, but when paired with the Rat Talisman's ability, it allowed him to weave some magical resistance into his creations.
A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd.
"What is that—magic?!" someone gasped.
"He just created a Stone Golem out of thin air!"
"Don't tell me Black Spider is also a sorcerer?!"
"Spread the word! Black Spider's a magic warrior now—he's got both fists and spells!"
"Pfft, you've been playing too many video games," a skeptical student snorted. "Magic, gods—none of that exists! I only believe in science and tech!"
The words had barely left his mouth when the battlefield itself answered.
"Ughhh!!"
Martin Li—better known in New York's underworld as Mr. Negative—let out a roar that was closer to a beast's than a man's. His aura exploded, flooding the area with seething Negative Energy. Behind him, that power took form—coalescing into the shape of a towering half-bodied demon with a twisted, oni-like visage. Its size rivaled Jack's newly forged Stone Giant.
The "science-only" student trembled, eyes bulging. "T-That's… impossible…"
Mr. Negative sneered, his eyes glowing with black-and-white light. "You want a war? Then I'll give you one!"
Suspended in the air by sheer force of his energy, Martin controlled the demon avatar, swinging its massive palm toward Jack's Stone Giant.
The impact echoed through the square—
BOOM!!
Chunks of concrete rained down as the Stone Giant staggered but stood firm. The demon avatar, however, faltered and dissipated under the strain. Martin himself fell heavily back to the ground, panting. His so-called "ultimate move" was powerful but unstable—its drain on his Negative Energy was massive. He could only unleash it in bursts before collapsing.
Jack tilted his head, clapped lightly, and said with amused sarcasm, "Not bad. The special effects are just as flashy as advertised."
The truth was far less impressive. Negative Energy, at its core, was psychological in nature—it twisted emotions, corrupting morality and willpower. Against average people, it could devastate them inside and out. But when it came to raw physical offense, it was underwhelming compared to the true heavy-hitters of the superhuman world.
Jack knew this. But Martin didn't.
From Martin's perspective, he had just gone toe-to-toe with the infamous Black Spider's creation. He was convinced the Stone Giant was only being used to stall him, proof that Kadere was wary of his corruption ability. If he just pushed his ultimate attack a few more times, wore down the golem, and then closed the distance, he would win. He would corrupt Black Spider himself and rise as a king in the criminal underworld.
"After this, my name will eclipse even Kingpin's," he muttered feverishly, chest heaving with manic excitement. "Black Spider's myth of invincibility ends with me—Mr. Negative!"
But the Stone Giant wasn't giving him time to celebrate. Its heavy footfalls shook the pavement as it lumbered forward and hurled a massive fist down at him.
Martin countered, molding Negative Energy into clones of himself, spectral black-and-white doubles meant to distract Jack's construct. He darted back, lashing out with his arsenal: jagged blasts of Negative Energy, corrosive rays, concussive bullets of darkness. Occasionally, he even managed to force another demonic avatar into existence, slamming its spectral fists against the golem.
The crowd was enthralled.
"Who is this guy?!" one shouted.
"His powers are insane—look at that demon!"
"Cool? Sure. But it looks like he's just… scratching the thing?" another muttered, unimpressed.
To newcomers who had just arrived, the fight looked reversed. They mistook the Stone Giant for the villain, cheering for Mr. Negative's flashy theatrics.
"Go get him, Scratchy Big Bro!" one heckler yelled.
"You can do it! Smash that rock monster!" another encouraged.
Martin fed off their shouts, face wild with determination. Finally, after throwing everything he had left into one last demonic strike, the Stone Giant cracked apart and collapsed in a heap of rubble.
"Hahaha!!" Martin's laughter was shrill and childlike, full of self-satisfaction. "Victory will belong to me!"
Wasting no time, he raised a palm and fired a concentrated Negative Energy ray directly at Jack Kadere.
In his mind, the fight was already over. As soon as the beam struck, Black Spider's emotions would invert—his morality warped, his will subjugated. Once Jack was under his control, who in the underworld could challenge him? Kingpin? The man who had already been humiliated by Black Spider? He would be nothing compared to the new ruler of New York's shadows.
But Jack didn't even flinch.
"I can see you're in quite the agitated mood," Jack said calmly. He flicked his trench coat outward like a matador. The Negative Energy beam fizzled against the fabric, discharging with a few sparks before vanishing.
The onlookers gasped.
Martin's smugness evaporated. He gritted his teeth, then abandoned long-range assaults. Instead, he swaggered forward, deliberately closing the distance. His grin returned, sharp and cruel. "C'mon. Hit me. Do it! You don't dare, do you?"
It was a trap he'd used countless times. Anyone foolish enough to touch him directly would be immediately overwhelmed by his Negative Energy, their morality twisted inside out. No one was immune. No one—
Jack raised a brow. A faint glow pulsed across his palm, the mystical Tiger Talisman etched there flashing for an instant before fading. For an ability like Martin's, which thrived on inverting good and evil, the talisman was the perfect counter.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
Jack's hand lashed out.
CRACK!!
The sound of ribs snapping echoed as Martin was lifted off his feet and sent crashing through the edge of the crowd. He hit the pavement hard, coughing violently. Blood—black and white, as twisted as his power—splattered from his mouth.
The spectators went silent.
If Jack hadn't held back, Martin Li would already be a corpse.
"Impossible…!" Martin wheezed, clutching his broken chest. His eyes widened in disbelief. "Why? Why is my ability… ineffective against you?!"