Batman had barely finished tracing the trail of the genetically mutated spider when Black Cat suddenly sucked in a sharp breath.
"I found it too!"
Her voice echoed softly inside Norman Osborn's office. She held up a thin document, her fingers trembling slightly—not from fear, but excitement.
It was a Shareholder Agreement from Osborn Enterprises.
Printed clearly on the page, impossible to deny, was one name.
Wilson Fisk.
Ten percent ownership.
Better known to the criminal underworld as Kingpin.
The ink was still fresh. Even the smell of new print hadn't faded yet. Judging by the date stamped at the bottom, the investment had been made only a few days ago.
Black Cat's eyes gleamed. Her breathing quickened, chest rising and falling beneath the tight leather suit she wore, the zipper strained dangerously as excitement overwhelmed her usual calm.
"This is it," she whispered. "This has to be it."
Batman stood silently beside her, his gaze steady, unreadable beneath the shadow of his cowl.
"What are you going to do?" he asked quietly.
The question froze her in place.
The excitement drained from her face, replaced by uncertainty.
"I…" she hesitated. "I don't know. Go home? Dig deeper? Maybe… Google?"
Batman turned to look at her.
"No."
His voice was firm now—not harsh, but authoritative.
"You answer one thing first," he continued. "How did Kingpin get the money to invest in Osborn Enterprises?"
Black Cat blinked.
"Well… gangs. Drug trafficking. Illegal weapons. Protection rackets…"
As she spoke, realization slowly dawned on her.
Her eyes widened.
"Exactly," Batman said. "Every dollar he touched came from crime. Black money."
He paced slowly across the office, his boots silent against the marble floor.
"What Kingpin is doing now is laundering that money," Batman continued. "Turning bloodstained cash into 'clean' assets through corporate investment."
Black Cat stared at the document again, seeing it differently now.
"So… if that money is illegal—"
"Then it invalidates the investment," Batman finished. "A competent lawyer could freeze his assets, expose the transaction, and even send him to prison."
Her lips parted slightly.
"That's… all it takes?"
In her mind, taking down Kingpin had always meant years of underground warfare. Endless fights. Endless sacrifices. Her father's death, the criminal empire that followed—she had believed revenge would take her entire life.
But now…
It suddenly felt possible.
A soft, almost disbelieving smile crept onto her face.
She turned, instinctively wanting to hug Batman, gratitude and relief welling up inside her—
—but there was no one there.
The office was empty.
Batman had already vanished.
---
Deep beneath the city, inside the sewer system, Batman moved swiftly through the shadows.
Webbing launched silently from his wrist, anchoring to cracked concrete and rusted pipes as he swung forward with practiced precision.
The stench hit him first.
Even among the filth of the sewers, this smell stood out.
Squid Man.
His mutations left behind a unique, nauseating odor—something between rotting fish and chemical waste.
Batman followed it without hesitation.
It didn't take long.
In a hidden alcove beneath the tunnels, he found Squid Man's temporary hideout.
Seven suitcases lay scattered across the damp floor.
Different sizes. Different locks.
Batman opened them one by one.
Stacks of cash.
Neatly bundled.
Fresh.
The largest suitcase alone contained five million dollars.
When Batman finished counting, the total came to seven point six million dollars.
"This isn't enough," he muttered.
He gathered the suitcases and moved deeper underground, eventually reaching an abandoned shipyard long forgotten by the city.
There, under flickering lights, he piled the money together and stared at it in silence.
To rebuild a Batsuit identical to his original design, he would need at least ten million dollars.
Not because a single suit was expensive—but because it wasn't meant to last forever.
Every battle destroyed components.
Every mission consumed resources.
The suit was, by nature, a consumable weapon.
And worse—ordering parts in small quantities would attract attention.
Suppliers noticed patterns.
Patterns could be traced.
To stay invisible, he needed to order everything in bulk.
Seven point six million wasn't enough.
Batman clenched his fist slowly.
"And I won't use blood money blindly."
This money belonged to victims.
Some were criminals—but others might not have been.
He couldn't assume.
"I need Director George Stacy's evidence," Batman said quietly. "The files on Squid Man's victims. Names. Identities."
Only then would he decide how this money would be used.
---
The sun rose.
A new day began.
Batman rested less than an hour before removing his disguise.
The cowl came off.
The armor was stored away.
He changed into a simple plaid shirt.
And once again, Batman became Peter Parker.
Peter stepped outside, bought a copy of the Daily Bugle, and returned to the small apartment he rented.
There was no mention of Osborn's human experiments.
No scandal.
No outrage.
Instead, the front page was dominated by a single photo.
Spider-Man.
Swinging alone through New York.
"FLEEING IN FEAR OR TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF?"
"SPIDER-MAN MISSING FOR FOUR DAYS!"
Peter barely glanced at it.
Another headline caught his attention.
The Military would visit Osborn Enterprises today.
The building would be closed to the public.
Peter's eyes narrowed.
"So the footage wasn't published," he thought. "Or it was intercepted."
That explained everything.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Peter, your phone."
He opened the door.
Standing there was a young woman—not especially beautiful, but neat and gentle-looking. Twin braids hung over her shoulders. Her figure was slender, her posture shy.
"My phone?" Peter asked.
She smiled awkwardly. "I'm your landlord's daughter. Ursula. You forgot already?"
She handed him the receiver.
Across the hall, she returned to her room quietly.
"I'm Peter," he said.
"Peter?" A warm, elderly voice answered. "It's me."
Aunt May.
"It's Saturday. You need to come home today."
Peter went silent.
He knew exactly who she was.
And that was why he had avoided her.
After Uncle Ben's death, she and Peter had only each other.
"…Okay," he finally said.
Her relief was obvious.
She spoke at length—about food, about weather, about worries.
Peter listened, answering mechanically.
Only Alfred had ever spoken to him like this before.
But Alfred never talked this much.
When the call ended, he felt… unsettled.
"Peter?" Ursula peeked out again. "I baked pizza. Want to try some?"
"No, thank you," he replied quickly.
But she misunderstood.
Moments later, she appeared with a plate in hand, smiling brightly.
Peter stared at the pizza.
"…Fine."
---
Three hours later.
Inside Osborn Enterprises, chaos erupted.
"Check the surveillance!" Norman Osborn roared. "Who broke into my lab last night?!"
"Pay Silver Sable Security more!" he barked. "I want silence. No leaks."
He stormed into his office on the sixtieth floor.
Cabinets were open.
Documents scattered.
His rage exploded—
until an employee burst in.
"Sir! The Military has arrived."
Norman froze.
Then he straightened, forcing calm.
As he rushed toward the elevator, he was grateful.
Nothing important had been destroyed.
Without Military funding—and with Otto's fusion research stalled—his position on the board was fragile.
"Good thing I brought Kingpin in early," he muttered. "It stabilized everything."
Behind him, unseen—
Batman watched silently, dressed in stolen researcher clothes, eyes scanning every document in the room.
The game had only just begun.
-------------------------------------------
Visit our Patreon for more:
Get membership in patreon to read more chapters
Extra chapters available in patreon
patreon.com/Dragonscribe31
----------------------------------------------------- .