Karl accelerated along the highway, twisting the throttle nearly to its limit as the motorcycle roared toward the city. With his current physical resilience and reaction speed, he was confident he could survive an accident that would cripple an ordinary rider. The wind howled past him as the speedometer climbed.
He only slowed once the skyline began to rise ahead.
At one point, he had been pushing nearly 280 km/h, the engine screaming beneath him.
After indulging in the intoxicating rush of speed, Karl guided the bike off the main road and toward a restaurant he frequented.
It was a modest Chinese restaurant tucked between older brick storefronts. He had discovered it by chance and found the food authentic enough to remind him of home. Since then, he stopped by occasionally.
…
Fisk Tower — Kingpin's Office
"Boss, we've identified a suspicious individual at a motorcycle dealership in Manhattan," a blond man in a tailored suit reported. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the office lights.
"He purchased a superbike using one million dollars in cash. Several bill serial numbers match those taken during the Hell's Kitchen theft."
He consulted his tablet.
"The buyer is Karl Auguston Zhang, a Chinese American. His family owns a farm outside New York. His adoptive father died in a car accident last week. No known criminal ties. No known affiliations. His abilities remain unknown."
The man was Fisk's financial steward, Wesley Kreel.
Wilson Fisk remained silent for a moment.
Then he glanced toward the man standing beside the wall.
"Bullseye," Fisk said calmly, "assess his capabilities."
He paused.
"If necessary, deploy enhanced personnel."
Bullseye smiled faintly.
"No need for backup," he replied. "I'll handle him."
He turned and left.
Fisk did not stop him.
Failure would not require discussion.
Bullseye was still furious. During the vault breach, he had only managed to destroy a few of the shadow intruders. Worse, he had failed to identify the perpetrator — an embarrassment in Fisk's organization.
He intended to correct that mistake personally.
Bullseye possessed absolute confidence in his lethal precision. Anything he threw could become a deadly weapon. At thirty meters, he could kill with a toothpick. His accuracy bordered on superhuman, and years of combat experience had honed his instincts into something nearly predatory.
According to the intelligence report, Karl was merely an individual with unusual abilities — not a trained fighter.
Raw power without combat discipline was easy prey.
Bullseye had subdued numerous enhanced individuals working under Fisk. He expected Karl to be no different.
…
After finishing dinner, Karl rode leisurely through the city streets, unaware of the danger already closing in.
He slowed near a small park after spotting a strangely familiar figure.
A young woman stood nearby with a small boy — perhaps five or six years old.
Karl removed his visor slightly and looked closer.
Recognition dawned.
"May Parker… Aunt May from Spider-Man?"
If that was true, the child beside her could only be…
Peter Parker.
Karl studied the boy carefully.
If Peter was living with Aunt May at this age, it meant his parents, Richard and Mary Parker, were already dead. In many continuities, Richard Parker had worked as a geneticist connected to Oscorp, researching cross-species genetics that would later contribute to the creation of the radioactive spider.
Karl remembered that Peter's abilities came after being bitten by a genetically altered spider connected to Oscorp's research.
If the timeline was aligning…
the spider research already existed.
Karl's thoughts drifted briefly to Richard Parker's controversial choices — using corporate resources to pursue genetic breakthroughs, embedding safeguards into the research, and leaving behind secrets that would only later resurface.
The spider abilities themselves were extraordinary:
enhanced strength, agility, adhesion, accelerated healing, and the precognitive "spider-sense."
Karl wondered whether obtaining the research data might be possible someday.
But before he could think further—
Whoosh!
Clang!
A metal projectile shot toward him from behind.
A shadow ninja within Karl's shadow intercepted it at the last instant, deflecting the dart away.
Karl's eyes sharpened instantly.
He was under attack.
He leapt off the motorcycle and moved behind a large tree, adrenaline surging through his veins.
If he hadn't allowed the shadow ninjas to merge with his shadow earlier, that strike might have pierced his skull.
He removed his helmet and took a steady breath.
Then he activated elemental transformation.
His body shimmered, turning translucent like living ice.
Instead of retreating, Karl stepped out from cover and advanced toward the direction of the attack.
Around him, in the deepening shadows, pairs of scarlet eyes flickered into existence.
The darkness was no longer empty.
And whoever had launched that attack was about to discover
he was not hunting an ordinary man.
...…