If you asked where the largest black-market and gray-market zones in all of New York were, Hell's Kitchen would easily rank second, and there was probably nowhere else that could take first.
The place was packed not only with gangs, but also underground casinos and all kinds of vice dens. Their influence was so deeply rooted that even the NYPD had constant headaches dealing with it.
Gwen's father, George, had always wanted to clean up the area's crime situation, but what could one ordinary man really do on his own?
After all, some people operated in the underworld in secret while presenting themselves as respectable figures in public. Maybe they did not fully control both sides, but getting information first was still easy for them.
Peter and Gwen quickly dealt with the thugs guarding the entrance and forced their way into one of the gang hideouts.
As for why they picked this place, the answer was simple.
This was where the bounty had been issued from.
As a genius when it came to technology, tracing an IP address back to its source was ridiculously easy for Peter.
There was no point wasting time on the small fry. Peter did not care about pocket change. His real goal was to find where the important people were hiding, preferably kill them, and transfer their money while he was at it.
Eventually, they found something suspicious in one of the rooms.
Through the gap in an air vent, Peter and Gwen spotted a computer sitting on the desk inside, along with a Chicago typewriter and a telephone.
Classic mob style.
Peter used his spider strength to pry loose the vent screws. That way, there was at least a chance he could put it back afterward without anyone noticing.
"Hey, you're way too smooth at this. Don't tell me you do this all the time."
Watching Peter go through the motions so naturally, Gwen could not help asking.
"If I said this was my first time, would you believe me?"
Noticing that no one was inside the room, Peter and Gwen dropped down and landed steadily on the floor, then looked around.
There was an enormous suit hanging on the coat rack, the kind that looked big enough to fit five or six normal people inside. Peter immediately got a bad feeling.
And sure enough, the photographs, computer files, accounts, and various sites in the room all pointed to the same conclusion.
This was one of Kingpin's offices.
However, the layer of dust covering everything made it obvious that the place had not been cleaned in a very long time.
Or rather, Kingpin probably only came here occasionally. He had a business empire of his own to manage, so a little gang office like this could easily be left to his underlings.
Peter found a safe with a pretty sturdy design. He walked over and began cutting into it with his spider arm-blades. Unfortunately for the safe, even strong steel was useless against those blades. It did not take long before he cut it open.
Just as expected, inside were several stacks of U.S. dollars, some gang payment records, and a photograph of Peter and Gwen swinging through the city in their suits. The photo had been slashed up badly with a knife, and two red X's had been painted over them.
"That bastard. I don't think I even did anything to him."
"Or did some of the people I killed before happen to work for him?"
Crumpling the photo into a ball, Peter suddenly felt a very strong urge to stick his spider arm-blades into Kingpin a few times.
This was way too much.
Not only had the guy painted red marks over them, he had practically shredded the photo too.
How much did he hate them?
"I'm the more innocent one here, okay? I literally didn't do anything."
Seeing Peter lose his temper, Gwen spread her hands helplessly.
"That's what happens when you're my spider partner."
"Wow. That really is terrible luck."
Peter: "???"
Just as Peter was stuffing the money into his pockets, his Spider-Sense exploded with warning.
A vision flashed through his mind of both him and Gwen being swallowed by flames.
Gwen saw the same image at the exact same time.
Neither of them had time to say a word.
They reacted instantly.
They smashed through the glass and fired out webs to swing away, and in the very next second, a hidden bomb under the desk detonated violently.
After the shockwave passed, Peter and Gwen were unharmed because they had escaped in time.
But all of Kingpin's evidence was gone.
Looking at the account books burned to ash and the ruined computer hard drives, Peter let out a sigh. Kingpin really was a careful and slippery criminal. They had probably triggered some sort of security failsafe he had planted, and that was what caused the explosion.
He would never let evidence of his crimes fall into anyone else's hands.
Without that evidence, Fisk was Fisk, and Kingpin was Kingpin.
Two different people.
That bastard was still a businessman.
A law-abiding New York citizen who paid his taxes.
Even if someone accused him or tried to threaten him, he could hire the best lawyers to defend him, the best killers to eliminate the threat in secret, and make the whole thing look flawless.
That was exactly the sort of lesson a cunning businessman and seasoned actor had to master.
Peter had to admit that, from Kingpin's perspective, it was the correct move.
If their roles were reversed, Peter might have done something even harsher.
But then again, he was not that bastard.
And right now, his own life was being threatened.
So there was no room for that kind of detached thinking.
Kingpin had to die.
And dying easily was not enough.
The explosion drew the attention of the gang members. A tide of them immediately surged toward the room.
Peter stuck himself to the outside wall and pulled something orange-red out of his backpack.
It was a bomb.
And not just any bomb. It was one of New Goblin Harry's Pumpkin Bombs.
Peter had obtained it while returning, using the transfer function of his dimensional wrist communicator.
Of course, Peter had also sent the Electro-Pulse device over in exchange.
As for who New Goblin Harry planned to use it on, that had nothing to do with him.
If Harry used it on the Peter of that world, Peter here would be perfectly happy about it. After all, it would not be him getting hit. In fact, part of him wanted to watch the chaos unfold.
Peter gently pressed the switch on the Pumpkin Bomb, looked at Gwen, and nodded.
Then, from outside the window, he tossed it into the room.
The two of them immediately swung away on their webs toward a safer distance.
Boom.
The explosion made the ground shake, and the bomb's lethality in a confined space was displayed perfectly.
Every gang member who had rushed into the room was either killed outright or severely wounded.
This trip had definitely paid off.
Now they knew who had put the bounty on them, and they had also picked up several stacks of cash.
As for the rest, they could take their time with it later.
Peter believed that one day, he would personally kill that bastard.
He did not know exactly where Kingpin was hiding, but New York was only so big. Peter did not believe for a second that a man like Kingpin would willingly abandon everything he had built here and flee overseas.
After all, he and Kingpin were the same kind of person in certain ways.
Both ambitious.
Both willing to do whatever it took to eliminate anything that threatened their own safety.
Moving swiftly from place to place, Peter and Gwen took the opportunity to wipe out a few more small groups in Hell's Kitchen. By the time they were done, their backpack was stuffed full of cash, and only then did they finally head home satisfied.
After all, if you said you were going out to get some spending money, then you absolutely could not come back empty-handed.
People had to keep their word.
Didn't they?
(End of Chapter)
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