After seeing off the deeply troubled Captain America, Joey was confident that, at least for the near future, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be far too busy to come looking for trouble with him.
A man like Steve Rogers would never accept Joey's claims at face value and immediately believe that S.H.I.E.L.D. had long since been infiltrated by HYDRA.
But the matter was too serious to ignore.
There was a ninety-nine percent chance Steve would try to verify it himself.
And the moment he did, it would set off a chain reaction.
To protect themselves, a significant portion of S.H.I.E.L.D. would inevitably begin obstructing him, both openly and behind the scenes.
Once Captain America started feeling that invisible resistance from every direction, he would naturally learn for himself whether Joey's words were true.
Come to think of it, Joey was practically an old acquaintance of Nazi extremists by now.
The very first time he had ever killed someone had been because he had slowly realized, through his own attempts at self-deception, the true Nazi nature hidden beneath Stormfront's façade.
If he had the spare time, Joey certainly wouldn't mind personally shipping every HYDRA member to the Moon one by one.
But right now, he neither had the time nor the freedom to do so.
For one thing, his hands were already full.
For another, acting immediately would effectively amount to launching a direct attack against S.H.I.E.L.D.
So it was better to wait.
Wait until the contradictions within S.H.I.E.L.D. intensified.
Wait until HYDRA exposed itself.
Then he could make his move.
For now, all he could do was wish Captain America the best of luck.
And when Joey said he didn't have the time, he meant it.
For example, at this very moment, he was still keeping an eye on the Spider-People who had scattered the instant S.H.I.E.L.D. showed up.
Roughly forty-nine percent of the Peter Parkers had chosen to visit the still-living Uncle Ben of this world.
The other fifty-one percent had immediately resumed their regular day jobs.
Today was arguably the darkest day in New York City's history for criminals.
Hundreds of Spider-Men had descended upon the city simultaneously.
Even Hell's Kitchen—which normally looked more like a war zone than a neighborhood—had never seen anything like this.
Hundreds of masked vigilantes in similar costumes were operating at the same time.
There were simply too many heroes.
The city was actually running out of criminals to beat up.
Honestly, Joey needed to gather them all back together soon.
If he allowed hundreds of Spider-People to roam freely for too long, something was bound to go wrong.
After all, just because not every Peter Parker was Spider-Man didn't mean every Spider-Man was Peter Parker.
Good-hearted Parkers usually didn't cause major problems in New York.
Other Spider-People were a different story.
For instance, one Spider-Man was currently preparing to infiltrate the upper floors of Oscorp Tower—the location of Norman Osborn himself.
"Whatever you're planning, stop."
Outside an air vent on the Oscorp building, Joey called out to the Spider-Man hiding inside.
"The Osborn of this universe isn't a bad guy. At least not yet."
That was one of the most confusing aspects of the multiverse.
Grudges from one universe had a nasty habit of being carried into another by people who couldn't separate the two.
"I know."
A Spider-Man hanging upside down from the ceiling dropped into view.
His mask featured a row of metallic spikes styled like a mohawk.
Over his spider suit he wore a black leather jacket.
A heavily customized electric guitar was slung across his back.
Altogether, he looked less like a superhero and more like a metal guitarist from a punk band.
"I just want to see what Osborn is like in other universes."
"It might help me defeat the Norman Osborn in mine."
This was Spider-Punk, Hobie Brown of Earth-138.
In his universe, Norman Osborn had seized power and established a corrupt, authoritarian regime.
Together with his symbiote-enhanced military police forces, he subjected the population to endless oppression and exploitation.
Spider-Punk was one of the few remaining sparks of resistance.
Truthfully, Spider-Punk wasn't a title he particularly liked.
If given the choice, he preferred to call himself an Anarchist Spider-Man.
Anarchy.
The belief that governments should be abolished entirely in favor of absolute freedom.
It was the sort of ideology that sounded explosive in any universe.
Then again, perhaps Norman Osborn in Hobie's world really was that terrible.
Sometimes, when an existing system becomes rotten beyond repair, people begin wishing to burn everything down.
"If you'd like, I can help you when the time comes."
Joey didn't particularly care to judge Spider-Punk's beliefs or methods.
He only knew that if he were in Hobie's position, he could probably do a better job than most Spider-Men.
"But it'll have to wait until all this is over."
Right now, Joey still didn't understand Doctor Doom's pattern of behavior.
Nor did he know why Doom had chosen to destroy the entire Universe-2099.
On top of that, the Inheritors still hadn't been wiped out.
His own universe remained filled with crises demanding attention.
There were simply too many disasters.
And far too few Supermen.
Just as Joey was about to convince Spider-Punk to leave Oscorp Tower, his eyes narrowed.
He had spotted an even bigger problem.
Miguel O'Hara—the Spider-Man of the now-destroyed Universe-2099—had already followed the trail left behind by Tony's departure.
And he was heading straight toward Tony Stark.
Most Spider-People were geniuses.
Spider-Man 2099 was among the smartest of them all.
The problem was that when a smart person became obsessed with doing something foolish, the consequences were usually much worse.
"I—"
A bolt of lightning suddenly split the sky.
It struck Joey directly, electrocuting him from head to toe.
A massive explosion erupted atop Oscorp Tower, shattering every window on several surrounding floors.
A purple time portal tore open in midair.
From it stepped a tall, blue-faced figure.
The traveler from across time stood with both hands behind his back, making his immaculate purple suit appear even more formal.
Through the translucent faceplate covering his head, his gaze locked directly onto Spider-Punk.
"Found you, Anarchist."
Spider-Sense screamed in warning.
Spider-Punk dodged the incoming grab, narrowly avoiding being snatched up like a chicken by the towering man in the suit.
He had never seen this person before.
Nor did he understand why the man was targeting him.
"And who the hell are you?"
"My name is Kang."
The man reached out again, attempting to grab Spider-Punk.
"I am a great entrepreneur from your future."
"Stop resisting. I'm doing this for your own protection."
A brief pause.
"And for my company's profits and intellectual property value."
The moment Entrepreneur Kang finished speaking, an endless wave of Spider-Punk plush dolls poured out of the portal behind him.
The plushies stood a little over half a person's height.
Round heads.
Round bodies.
Tiny silver-gray rubber spikes decorating the tops of their heads.
Their arms and legs were little more than stuffed fabric tubes.
They were essentially chibi versions of Spider-Punk.
Despite their cute appearance, they were astonishingly lively.
As they flooded out of the portal, they cheered enthusiastically:
"Anarchy! Anarchy! We all love Anarchy!"
After firing a web directly into Entrepreneur Kang's face, Spider-Punk tried to kick aside the first plush doll charging toward him.
Then he got slapped into a wall.
By a stuffed toy that wasn't even half his height.
"Struggle! Resistance! Freedom!"
The hallway became packed with bodies.
Everywhere he looked, Spider-Punk plushies were marching forward while mindlessly repeating slogans as they attempted to capture him.
"What the hell is going on?!"
Being hunted by medieval vampires had already been bizarre enough.
Being hunted by plush toys that had stolen his likeness was somehow even more ridiculous.
"I told you already."
Soon, surrounded by a crowd of Spider-Punk plushies, Entrepreneur Kang clarified the situation.
"I'm Entrepreneur Kang."
"This isn't intellectual property theft."
"In the future, all rights associated with you—including but not limited to your name, likeness, costume, and trademarks—belong to me."
Kang.
Better known throughout the multiverse as Kang the Conqueror.
He was a man from beyond the thirtieth century.
In nearly every future across the multiverse, the genius known as Kang eventually mastered the secrets of time and space.
His variants became rulers of the multiverse's far future, reigning all the way until the end of time itself.
Unlike most versions of Kang the Conqueror, who focused on conquering other universes after dominating their own, the Kang of Spider-Punk's universe had no interest in conquest, empire-building, or the multiversal wars fought at the end of time.
He preferred something far more important.
Expanding production.
Increasing revenue.
Maximizing intellectual property value.
In the future, Spider-Punk had become a symbol of rebellion and freedom.
Or, to put it more simply—
A fashion trend.
Most people didn't actually care about rebellion or freedom.
They simply followed whatever happened to be popular.
T-shirts.
Shoes.
Accessories.
Even luxury goods.
Spider-Punk's image and logo appeared on all of them.
Millions of trend-conscious consumers bought the merchandise.
And Entrepreneur Kang, owner of every Spider-Punk copyright and licensing agreement, made an absolute fortune.
That was why he had crossed time and traversed universes to come here.
Not for conquest.
Not for power.
But to bring Spider-Punk back to where he belonged.
"This universe is about to be erased from history."
Kang adjusted his suit calmly.
"When that happens, the Spider-Punk intellectual property portfolio I own will become worthless."
His eyes narrowed behind the transparent visor.
"So you're coming back with me."