Chร o cรกc bแบกn! Vรฌ nhiแปu lรฝ do tแปซ nay Truyen2U chรญnh thแปฉc ฤ‘แป•i tรชn lร  Truyen247.Pro. Mong cรกc bแบกn tiแบฟp tแปฅc แปงng hแป™ truy cแบญp tรชn miแปn mแป›i nร y nhรฉ! Mรฃi yรชu... โ™ฅ

๐™„๐™„๐™„- ๐™๐™ฃ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ ๐™š๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐˜ผ๐™ก๐™ก๐™ž๐™š๐™จ

The city had turned against him, a tide of public opinion that Spider-Man, the once-beloved hero, was now a suspect in the murder of Captain George Stacy. The weight of that accusation bore down on Y/N's shoulders like an unrelenting burden. The stress was etched across his face, his usually bright eyes clouded with worry.

One night, while patrolling the city, Y/N stumbled upon a group of Maggia enforcers peddling drugs and terrorizing innocent bystanders. Fury burned in his veins as he swung into action, his Spider-Man persona taking over. The enforcers, emboldened by the recent allegations against him, taunted him mercilessly.

"Hey there, boys! Miss me?" Y/N quipped as he landed gracefully amidst the criminals, startling them.

"You think you're some kind of hero, Spider? We all know what you really are," sneered one of the thugs, a smirk etched on his face.

Another one chuckled. "You think you can stop us, murderer?"

That word, "murderer," stung Y/N like a swarm of bees. He fought the urge to scream out his innocence. Instead, he acted swiftly, launching his webbing at the enforcers, ensnaring them in sticky tendrils.

His spikes gleamed menacingly in the dim light, reflecting the anger in his eyes. "I didn't do anything," he snarled, the words laced with frustration and desperation. With swift movements, he incapacitated the enforcers, using his stingers and webs to disarm them. Justice, it seemed, was a concept slipping away from him.

As Spider-Man webbed up the defeated enforcers, he heard the distant wail of sirens, growing louder with each passing moment.

He knew he had to leave before the police arrived, but his departure was interrupted by the arrival of Yuri Watanabe, her stern expression reflecting her unwavering determination.

"Spider-Man, you're under arrest for the murder of Captain George Stacy," she declared, her voice commanding obedience.

"I didn't do shit, Captain, and I think you know that," Spider-Man retorted, his tone defiant despite the desperation that lingered in his words. With that, he swung away, narrowly avoiding the bullets that followed him into the night.

๐Ÿ•ท๏ธ

In the days that followed, Y/N's world seemed to crumble around him. He sought solace in the person who had always been there for himโ€”his friend, Peter. Text messages, filled with desperation and longing, were sent in moments of vulnerability.

"Hey, Peter, I really need to talk. Can you meet up after school?"

"Peter, where are you? We need to talk about what's happening."

But with each unanswered message, Y/N's loneliness and isolation grew, like a spider trapped in its own web.

Peter, was consumed by his blossoming relationship with Mary Jane. He seemed oblivious to Y/N's cries for help.

And that made Y/N mad. Sure, he was happy for his friend, but it's not like he has anyone else to talk about any of these issues with.

Not in this universe anyway.

Defeated, Y/N decided to take the subway home. The rhythmic clattering of the train against the tracks provided a grim soundtrack to his thoughts. He felt a profound sense of loneliness, a gnawing ache in his chest that refused to dissipate.

Upon returning home, he sank onto his bed, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and despair. The room felt suffocating, the weight of his secrets pressing down on him like a leaden shroud. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts a tempestuous sea of emotions.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit office, Y/N's mother, Jessica, sat across from Dr. Curt Connors, his brow furrowed with concern. The parent-teacher conference was meant to shed light on Y/N's recent academic decline. Dr. Connors, a perceptive and empathetic educator, sensed there was more to the story than met the eye.

"His grades have been slipping, and he's become increasingly withdrawn," Dr. Connors explained, his voice tinged with worry. "I know he's a bright student, but something seems to be troubling him."

Jessica nodded, her gaze fixed on the concerned teacher. "It's been tough for him since his father passed away," she said, her voice laden with sorrow. "But lately, it's as if he's carrying an even heavier burden. He won't talk to me about it."

Dr. Connors sighed, his eyes filled with empathy. "Sometimes, teenagers struggle to express their emotions," he said, his voice gentle. "If he ever needs someone to talk to, I'm here for him. It might help him to open up about whatever he's going through."

As the conference came to an end, Jessica left the school with a heavy heart. The mention of Y/N's father stirred a pang of grief within her. But it was the discovery of the mysterious girl's drawing that left her perplexed.

Who was she, and why did her son keep her image hidden away?

In the quiet of the night, Y/N lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling above. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and the weight of the accusations against him bore down on him like a suffocating darkness. His thoughts drifted to the sketch he had hidden away, the drawing of Gwen that seemed to capture his longing for connection.

The city outside his window buzzed with life, but Y/N felt utterly alone. The world seemed to conspire against him, and he didn't know how much longer he could bear the burden of suspicion and isolation.

๐Ÿ•ท๏ธ

Y/N perched on the edge of an abandoned building, his gaze fixed on the latest issue of the Daily Bugle. Jameson's scathing headlines plastered across the front page, another reminder of how Spider-Man had fallen from grace.

He shook his head, frustration etched on his features, but determined not to let the negative press consume him.

As he tried to brush off the negativity, the police radio crackled to life on his phone, pulling him back into his duties. A break-in at an old electronics facility on the outskirts of Midtown grabbed his attention. Spider-Man's curiosity piqued; perhaps this could be a chance to prove to the city that he was still the hero they needed.

Swiftly, he swung through the city, his movements calculated to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. Arriving at the dilapidated warehouse, he observed a figure clad in a distinctive purple and green suit, hunched over a stash of electronic devices. Recognition flickered in Y/N's eyes โ€“ the Prowler.

Spider-Man descended, landing gracefully on a single line of web. "Nice suit. Reminds me of someone," he quipped, his tone laced with sarcasm.

The Prowler's eyes narrowed beneath the mask, his voice cold and determined. "Spider-Man. Not exactly beloved these days, are you?"

Spider-Man shrugged off the remark. "Let's cut to the chase. Put the tech down, and we won't have a problem."

Prowler's gloved hands tightened around the stolen devices. "You don't understand, do you? This is personal. Stay out of my way."

Y/N's resolve solidified. "Not gonna happen," he shot back, shooting a web towards Prowler. The fight erupted with Prowler's wrist gauntlets firing projectiles and his claws slashing the air. Y/N deftly dodged each attack, his agility unmatched.

"You're not the first Prowler I've faced," Y/N said, taunting his opponent. Prowler seemed momentarily confused, but the distraction was short-lived.

The skirmish continued, Y/N pressing Prowler for answers amidst the chaos. "What's your game, Prowler? Why the sudden tech spree?"

Prowler hesitated, then spoke cryptically, "It's between me and Fisk."

The mention of Wilson Fisk, the city's enigmatic figurehead, raised Y/N's suspicions. "If you've got a problem with Fisk, we might be able to help each other. Temporary alliance, what do you say?"

Prowler shook his head vehemently, refusing the proposition. "This is my fight, Spider. Stay out of it." With that, he fired a blast from his wrist gauntlet, sending Spider-Man crashing into the nearest wall.

The chase that ensued was a high-speed pursuit through the bustling streets of Midtown. Prowler weaved through traffic, his motorcycle picking up speed with every twist and turn. Spider-Man, his determination unwavering, followed closely, each swing bringing him closer to his elusive target.

The chase that ensued was a dizzying whirlwind of acrobatics and adrenaline. Prowler's motorcycle roared through the city streets, weaving in and out of traffic, leaving Spider-Man in hot pursuit. The pursuit led them through the heart of Midtown.

With each leap and swing, Y/N's determination grew stronger. He wasn't about to let Prowler escape, especially not with a webbed trail of unanswered questions trailing behind him. Prowler's motorcycle strained to outpace the nimble web-slinger, but Y/N slowly but surely closed the gap.

Finally, Spider-Man's webbing struck true, slashing the tires of Prowler's motorcycle using his stingers. The vehicle skidded to a halt, sending its rider sprawling onto the asphalt. The two locked eyes, a momentary standoff before the inevitable clash resumed.

In the midst of their confrontation, Y/N couldn't help but press Prowler further. "What's Fisk's game, Prowler? Why all this tech? You can't hide any of this forever."

Prowler struggled against the webbing that encased him, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You don't get it, kid," he muttered. "This is bigger than both of us."

Y/N's expression hardened. "Then help me, Prowler. What is Fisk planning?"

Prowler's response was a series of swift strikes, his claws glinting menacingly in the dim light. "You don't get it, Spider. This city is a chessboard, and Fisk is the king. And kings fall," he snarled, his blows landing with calculated precision.

"I'm not your enemy," Spider-Man insisted, his voice edged with sincerity. "We both have reasons to distrust Fisk. Maybe we can find common ground."

Before Prowler could respond, a metallic thud echoed through the night. Y/N crumpled to the ground, disoriented and dazed. A triumphant smile spread across Yuri Watanabe's face as she stepped into the dim light, her police officers encircling the fallen Spider-Man.

"Good work, Prowler," she said, her tone icy. "You led Spider-Man right into our trap."

Prowler's eyes flickered with guilt and regret. "What are you going to do to him?"

Yuri turned to him, her gaze piercing. "That's none of your concern, Hobie. You did your job; now stay out of police business."

Hobie, the Prowler, hesitated, his eyes fixed on Y/N's unconscious form. "Don't kill him," he implored, his voice laced with desperation. "He's just a kid."

Yuri's expression hardened, her patience wearing thin. "I can do whatever I want. And you better stay out of my way unless you want to join him. You can't afford more prison time."

As the police cruisers pulled away, Hobie climbed back onto his motorcycle, his hands trembling with guilt and uncertainty. He knew he had made a choice he couldn't undo, a choice that he now felt that he could have avoided.

๐Ÿ•ท๏ธ

In the dimly lit confines of Fisk Tower, Wilson Fisk, the orchestrator of all of this chaos, watched his criminal empire unfold before him like a malevolent symphony.

Through surveillance feeds, he observed his men, marionettes in his grand performance, conducting their illicit operations across the city. Drugs flowed, money exchanged hands, and stolen goods vanished into the night, all under Fisk's watchful eye.

His enforcers, Scorpia and Hobgoblin, proved to be formidable instruments of destruction.

Scorpia, her green battle suit gleaming with malice, wreaked havoc upon relief centers, crashing buildings with a chilling disregard for human life.

Hobgoblin, on his glider, taunted the police, challenging the very authority that dared to oppose Fisk's dominion.

Meanwhile, Fisk's grandest plan loomed on the horizon: a bid for the position of Mayor of New York City. He envisioned a city under his thumb, a puppet master pulling strings from City Hall, while his criminal empire thrived in the shadows. To achieve this, he needed to eradicate any symbols of hope that stood in his way.

However, Fisk couldn't help but notice the absence of a certain vigilante from the scene. Spider-Man, once a constant thorn in his side, seemed to have vanished, possibly consumed by the accusations surrounding Captain Stacy's murder.

Fisk knew Spider-Man was innocent of that particular crime, having ordered Hobgoblin to eliminate Captain Stacy himself, killing the symbol of hope in an attempt to instill fear in the hearts of New Yorkers.

As his loyal butler attended to his needs, Fisk's mind remained fixated on a project of a more sinister nature. He descended into his private laboratory, where scientists scurried about like worker ants in the glow of sterile lights.

Approaching a massive glass containment unit, Fisk's eyes fixated on the inky, shifting substance withinโ€”a symbiote, known to him as Project S. The late scientist Jacob's discovery had been intended to be a miracle meant to cure humanity's diseases, a beacon of hope in a world often marred by despair. However, Fisk had a different plan, one that involved weaponizing the alien entity.

Jacob had been a man of noble intentions, seeking to use the symbiotic creature for the betterment of humanity. However, upon discovering the true nature of Wilson Fisk and his malevolent plans, he had severed all ties with the criminal mastermind.

The memories of Jacob's intentions loomed heavily in the room, a testament to the scientist's altruism contrasting sharply with Fisk's malevolent schemes.

The symbiote, a creature that could bond with a host, thrashed against the glass, as if sensing the malevolence emanating from its observer.

Fisk's cold eyes fixated on the writhing black mass, a cruel smile curling his lips. While Jacob had envisioned hope and salvation, Fisk saw only power.

He intended to weaponize Project S, a force that would give him unparalleled control over the city. With such a devastating weapon at his disposal, he could crush all opposition and solidify his rule over New York.

Fisk left the laboratory, his mind consumed by visions of a city under his absolute control. As the elevator doors closed behind him, the dark secrets hidden within Fisk Tower seemed to breathe and pulsate, echoing the malevolence of the man who stood at the center of it all.

๐Ÿ•ท๏ธ

In the dimly lit room, Y/N's eyes flickered open, adjusting to the darkness. Confusion washed over him as he realized he was bound to a chair, surrounded by police officers. Panic surged through his veins, and he struggled against his restraints, muscles straining as he tried to free himself.

"Where am I? What is this?" Y/N demanded, his voice laced with fear and frustration.

"Spider-Man," a voice hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. "I've been waiting for this moment."

From the shadows, Yuri Watanabe emerged, her expression smug and vindictive. "You're in the place where you belong, Spider-Man. In custody, facing justice for your crimes."

Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief. "I didn't do anything! You have to believe me!"

Yuri smirked and leaned in closer, her gloved hand connecting with Y/N's jaw in a sharp, stinging slap. The officers shifted uncomfortably, some exchanging uneasy glances.

"Stop lying, Spider-Man," she sneered. "We have evidence that you murdered Captain George Stacy."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "That's impossible! I didn'tโ€”"

Before he could finish, Yuri struck him again, this time with even more force. The room fell silent except for the muffled gasps of the other officers, who seemed unsure of how to react to their superior's brutality.

Yuri scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "I don't care about your excuses. You're just another so called vigilante who thinks he's above the law."

In a fit of rage, Yuri struck Y/N repeatedly, her blows landing harshly. The other officers shifted uncomfortably, uneasy with their superior's excessive brutality.

One officer mustered the courage to step forward, his voice wavering. "Captain Watanabe, isn't this going too far?"

Yuri turned on him with a menacing glare. "Do your job, officer, or you'll find yourself without one."

Y/N gasped for breath, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His mind raced, searching for a way out. As Yuri moved closer, his stingers inched out, ready to strike. He couldn't let her unmask him. It would put everyone he cared about at risk.

Just as Yuri reached for his mask, a sudden explosion rocked the room. A thick plume of smoke billowed, disorienting everyone inside. Confusion and alarm spread through the officers.

What the hell?" Yuri exclaimed, coughing as the smoke obscured her vision.

In the midst of the confusion, a lithe figure emerged, swiftly incapacitating the officers and then Yuri herself. It was Black Cat, her sleek silhouette exuding confidence as she moved with calculated grace.

"Spider, let's get out of here," she urged, her voice low and urgent. Y/N felt a surge of gratitude toward his unexpected savior. With newfound strength, he broke free from his restraints, his stingers primed and ready.

He shot one last glance at Yuri, his eyes burning with defiance. "I'm innocent," he declared before following Black Cat, escaping into the night.

Once the smoke cleared, Yuri Watanabe was left seething with fury. She hurled the chair across the room, her frustration boiling over. She had been so close to apprehending Spider-Man, and now he had an accomplice. Her mind raced with thoughts of revenge, determination hardening her resolve.

Her anger surged anew as she issued rapid-fire orders to her officers. Spider-Man was her top priority, and she demanded that they focus all their efforts on capturing him. She also made it clear that she wanted his mysterious accomplice apprehended and arrested.

"You were all useless!" she screamed at her officers. "He had an accomplice, and I want them both apprehended. Spider-Man is public enemy number one in this city!"

Some officers exchanged uneasy glances, questioning the wisdom of her decisions. They believed that their resources should be directed toward solving the escalating crime war and identifying the leader of the Inner Demons. But Yuri was unrelenting in her pursuit of the wall-crawling vigilante.

One officer, fed up with her irrational focus on Spider-Man, decided he had had enough. He stood and, with a resigned expression, spoke his mind, "Captain, this is madness. Stacy would be disappointed in you."

With those words, he walked out, quitting his job on the spot, leaving Yuri seething in her relentless determination.

She knew Spider-Man wasn't responsible for Captain Stacy's death, but her newfound power as Captain had given her the means to pursue her personal vendetta with ruthless determination.

๐Ÿ•ท๏ธ

On top of a dimly lit rooftop, Black Cat crouched, her sleek, form-fitting suit glimmering in the faint glow of the city lights. She twirled her trademark grappling hook with a confident grace, casting a sly smile at the masked figure approaching her. Spider-Man swung in behind her, landing next to the feline themed figure.

"Why'd you help me?" Y/N's voice was laced with curiosity and suspicion. He needed to know why someone like Black Cat, a notorious thief with her own agenda, would intervene on his behalf.

She turned to face him, her eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. "Kiddo, unless you're secretly carrying a bunch of bombs, I don't think you offed Captain Stacy. And I don't mess with innocent kids," she replied, her tone casual but her words sincere. "Besides, Fisk's behind all this mess, and I've got my own score to settle with that fat cat."

Spider-Man's anger shifted, focusing on the real enemy โ€“ Wilson Fisk, the orchestrator of their collective miseries. "So you're after Fisk too?"

Black Cat nodded, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "He's at the top of my naughty list. But I ain't doing it for the good of the city, just personal reasons."

Their conversation was interrupted when another figure approached โ€“ Prowler, his mask concealing his face but not his simmering resentment. Spider-Man's fists clenched involuntarily, remembering how Prowler had betrayed him, nearly costing him his identity.

"Why's he here?" Spider-Man's tone was sharp, his distrust evident.

Prowler sighed, his shoulders slumping with regret. "Look, I didn't want things to go down like that," he explained, his voice rough with guilt. "I was desperate, and I thought it would buy me some time."

Spider-Man crossed his arms, still seething. "Desperate for what?"

Hobie hesitated for a moment before pulling off his mask, revealing a face etched with pain. "I used to work for Fisk," he confessed. "I was a thief, sometimes a mercenary. But I retired, and when I refused a job recently, Fisk didn't take it well. He killed my wife, Mindy, as revenge."

Silence hung in the air, heavy with the weight of Hobie's revelation. Spider-Man's anger ebbed, replaced by a bitter understanding. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now. "I had no idea."

Black Cat placed a hand on Hobie's shoulder, her voice filled with sympathy. "Hobie and I both have our reasons for taking down Fisk. We've all got a common enemy here."

Realization settled in, and Y/N nodded. "You're right. I've got a feeling Fisk is involved with the Inner Demons, and I need to find out who their leader is."

Black Cat grinned, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little team-up. Temporarily, of course."

Spider-Man smirked beneath his mask. "Temporary is just fine.

A collective nod of agreement sealed their temporary alliance. Three unlikely allies, each with their reasons for seeking justice, set out to uncover the mysteries of the growing crime war in New York City, united by a shared goal: to bring Wilson Fisk and the Demons to justice.

๐Ÿ•ท๏ธ

With that, Y/N, Black Cat, and Prowler stealthily found themselves approaching a a small meeting with some thugs working for the Demons.

The sound of hushed voices and clinking metal echoed through the alleyways, indicating the presence of the criminal gang.

"What are they doing?" Prowler said in a hushed voice, creeping over the edge. "I say we go down there."

We need information, not a brawl," Spider-Man urged, his eyes focused on the thugs below.

Prowler, impatient and itching for action, leaned in closer. "Screw that. I say we bust in and take what we need."

Black Cat chimed in, her tone ever cool and sly. "Boys, boys, let's not rush into things. There's always room for finesse."

Prowler grunted in frustration but nodded, reluctantly agreeing to Spider-Man's approach. His grip tightened on his gauntlet-clad fists, itching for action. Beside him, Black Cat's eyes glinted with anticipation, her agile fingers flexing in readiness.

As they observed the Inner Demons from the shadows, the air was thick with the acrid scent of tension and menace. The Demons spoke in hushed tones, their Mandarin words laced with a dark, foreboding tone. Spider-Man strained his ears, catching snippets of their conversation.

"They're discussing their next moves," Spider-Man whispered to his companions. "We need to know who's orchestrating this chaos."

Prowler's patience wore thin, and he shot Spider-Man a frustrated glance before muttering, "I've had enough of waiting."

Before Spider-Man could protest, Prowler leaped down into the midst of the meeting, his movements swift and deadly. The element of surprise was on their side for a moment, but soon the warehouse erupted into chaos. Demons shouted in alarm, their weapons clattering as they prepared for battle.

Spider-Man and Black Cat followed Prowler's lead, their forms a blur of motion amidst the sea of combat. Spider-Man's stingers crackled with energy as he incapacitated his foes, his agile moves allowing him to dodge attacks effortlessly.

Black Cat, her reflexes as sharp as her claws, danced through the chaos, her every move calculated and precise.

Black Cat managed to single out one particularly defiant Demon thug. She grabbed him by the collar, her eyes narrowed with determination. "Who's your leader?" she demanded, her voice as cold as ice.

The thug, his face contorted with rage, spat at Black Cat's feet. "I'll never talk, you masked freaks!" he snarled, his defiance unyielding.

"You're one to talk." Y/N said angrily, frustrated at the thugs lack of helpfulness.

Prowler, his patience wearing thin, stepped forward and delivered a swift knockout punch to the thug. "We're getting nowhere here," he grumbled, his frustration evident.

"They won't talk," Y/N said, his frustration mirroring hers. "But one thing is clear. There's something corrupting them, something twisting their minds and driving them to this madness."

Prowler, nursing a bruised cheek, finally seemed to comprehend the seriousness of the situation. "So, what's our next move?" he asked, his tone less confrontational.

Spider-Man's mind was already racing. "Wait, I remember something. Rhino, the guy I fought for the Maggia, mentioned he was supposed to hit Chinatown next. If the Inner Demons are a rival gang, they might be connected. We need to go to Chinatown."

With their lead established, the trio made a hasty exit from the chaotic warehouse. As they swung and sprinted through the night, the magnitude of the challenge ahead weighed heavily on them.

The corruption spreading through the city was far-reaching, and they were determined to root out the source โ€“ no matter where their investigation took them.

๐Ÿ•ท๏ธ

Jessica stood amidst the bustling activity of F.E.A.S.T, the homeless shelter she had been volunteering at for years. As she helped distribute food and supplies to those in need, Martin Li, the founder of F.E.A.S.T, approached her with a warm smile on his face.

"Jessica," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I've been watching your dedication to this place. Your efforts are truly commendable."

She blushed slightly, flattered by his praise. "Thank you, Martin. I believe everyone deserves a chance, and F.E.A.S.T provides that."

Li nodded appreciatively. "You're absolutely right. In fact, I was thinking, after all your hard work, how about I treat you to dinner? A small token of my gratitude."

Jessica hesitated, her mind filled with conflicting thoughts. "Is this... a date?" she asked tentatively, her gaze meeting his.

He smiled gently. "It can be, if you want it to be. But if you're not comfortable, we can just enjoy a friendly meal together. No pressure."

Jessica appreciated his understanding nature, but her concerns about Y/N held her back. "I appreciate the offer, Martin. Truly, I do. It's just... Y/N, after everything going on with him lately. Jacob's death hit him hard, and something else seems to be bothering him. I don't want to leave him alone, especially now."

Li's expression softened, his empathy evident. "Jessica, you have your own life, your own needs and desires. Y/N is strong, and he'll find his way. But if it eases your worries, I'm more than willing to talk to him, offer my support in any way I can."

Jessica looked into his eyes, sensing his sincerity. "Thank you, Martin. That means a lot to me. Let's go to dinner. Maybe it'll be a good distraction for both of us."

As she left F.E.A.S.T, Martin Li's demeanor shifted subtly. His usually calm and collected energy turned darker, a swirling mass of negativity that seemed to surround him like an aura.

In his office, he contemplated his plans, his mind focused on a grander scheme. Later, as he stepped into a sleek black limo, his eyes glowed with an eerie white light, indicating a deeper power at play.

๐Ÿ•ท๏ธ

Several Years Ago

In the dimly lit room, Jacob L/N stood tall, his eyes fixed on Wilson Fisk, the man he had once admired and respected. But now, he saw the truth beneath the facade โ€“ Fisk was the notorious crime lord, the Kingpin, ruling New York City's criminal underbelly.

"You can't deny it, Fisk. I've seen your operations, the drugs, the extortion, and the experiments. You can't hide behind your wealth and power anymore," Jacob declared, his voice firm.

Fisk, sitting behind his opulent desk, chuckled darkly. "You're mistaken, Jacob. These are false allegations, baseless accusations from someone desperate to cling to his job."

Jacob's eyes narrowed. "I'm not desperate, Fisk. I want out. I won't be a part of your criminal empire any longer. I won't be your top scientist. I won't create weapons and devices for your wicked schemes."

Fisk's expression turned menacing. "You're a smart man, Jacob. Too smart for your own good, it seems. But let me remind you of something โ€“ you have a lovely wife and a young son, don't you? Jessica and little Y/N. Such a charming family."

Jacob's fists clenched. "Don't you dare threaten them, Fisk. If you touch my family, if you even come near them, I'll expose you for the monster you are. The world will know about your crimes, your true nature."

Fisk leaned forward, his eyes cold and calculating. "You're playing a dangerous game, Jacob. You might think you're clever, but remember, I have resources you can't even imagine. Your family's safety hangs by a thread, and that thread is me."

Jacob's disgust for the man in front of him grew. He couldn't fathom the depths of Fisk's cruelty. With a newfound resolve, he turned his back on the criminal mastermind, determined to protect his family at any cost.

As he left Fisk's presence, he made a decision โ€“ he would leave behind his work on Project S, the alien Symbiote that could potentially change the course of human understanding.

But the thing was, it was too dangerous in the hands of someone like Wilson Fisk.

Bแบกn ฤ‘ang ฤ‘แปc truyแป‡n trรชn: Truyen247.Pro