[Bonus Chapter For Powerstone]
Bullseye nodded, offering a slick bit of flattery to his boss. "Wise as always, sir. Actually, after seeing the reports on Electro's gruesome end, I suspected the Arbiter was our 'Dock Butcher' all along."
Having echoed Kingpin's sentiment, Bullseye turned back to business. "As for Obadiah Stane... that fool claims he can handle his own problems.
He refused to provide a free weapons system. However, he did mention that if we stop sourcing from Hammer Industries, he's willing to give us a 15% discount on all future orders."
Fisk let out a cold, mocking snort. "He's certainly a calculating one."
Thinking of the vast territory and business he'd just swallowed from Madame Gao, Fisk wasn't exactly hurting for cash.
"Feign agreement for now. Get our hands on the latest Stark tech first. As for the future..." His eyes flashed with predatory light.
"Once we have our own army of super-criminals, this pocket change won't matter. By then, I won't just want his weapons—I'll take all of Stark Industries."
"Understood, boss!"
Another day of high school drudgery came to an end.
By now, heroism was practically etched into Gwen's DNA. She barely had time for a quick promise to meet Peter on her roof for "combat practice" before she zipped into her suit and swung away into the steel jungle of the city.
As Peter watched her disappear, he debated whether to check in on Parker Tech or pay a visit to William Baker (Sandman). But a familiar voice pulled him back:
"Hey, Peter."
He turned to find Felicia Hardy standing there. "Something up?"
Felicia had her arms crossed, staring directly into his eyes with an air of forced nonchalance. "I wanted to thank you for giving me the Emerald Dragon Scale. So... to pay you back, want to grab some dessert?"
Peter felt a surge of amusement at her "tsundere" act. His gaze swept over her briefly; despite her "I don't care" attitude, she had clearly put effort into her look.
Her silver hair was styled to be soft and voluminous, and her khaki trench coat over a high-necked sweater and slim jeans highlighted a silhouette that was... well, significantly more "developed" than Gwen's.
Was Felicia always this advantaged? Peter almost considered using the Byakugan to check for "padding," but he restrained his curiosity.
"If it's just a formal 'thank you' for the scale, don't worry about it," Peter said. Before the light in Felicia's eyes could dim, he pivoted: "But if it's a friend treating me to a snack, then I'm not going to be polite!"
Felicia blinked, then broke into a radiant smile, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "No wonder Gwen is so head-over-heels for you. That 'bookworm' persona was just a mask, wasn't it?"
"Come on. I know a place nearby with amazing egg tarts and milkshakes!"
The atmosphere in the dessert shop was much more relaxed. Peter casually asked about the tension between Felicia and her mother from the other night.
Felicia seemed to have found her footing, explaining calmly that her mother intended to remarry and move on.
"To be honest, I was panicking. I didn't know what to do," she admitted, her gaze drifting. In her mind's eye, Peter flickered for a moment—replacing his hoodie with a mask and the domineering aura of the Arbiter. "But you appearing helped me make up my mind. I see clearly now."
She tightened her fist. "If that woman really thinks she can abandon me and my father's memory, then I'll use the very methods my father used to build his wealth... and ensure she loses everything he ever gave her."
To anyone else, these words would be cryptic. But Peter knew exactly who her father was: the world-class thief, Walter "The Cat" Hardy.
Felicia wasn't going to stop her social-climbing mother; she was going to punish her. She planned to steal back every cent of her mother's assets, making her regret her choices.
It wasn't "legal," but Felicia had overcome her internal weakness. She was becoming the "Black Cat" of legend—or rather, a version of "Nightingale" that, like Peter, only did what she deemed right.
"Do you think I'm being too cruel?" she asked suddenly, searching his eyes for judgment. She even used the micro-expression analysis her father taught her to see if he was lying.
Peter simply smiled and raised his glass to her. "No. I think your approach is perfectly measured."
He meant it. Unlike the "Friendly Neighborhood" Peter Parkers of other universes, this Peter had no interest in being a moral saint. To him, a gold-digger who abandons her family for a payday deserved exactly what was coming to her.
Seeing that he was sincere, Felicia laughed—a genuine, carefree sound. She clinked her glass against his and downed her milkshake. "Thank you. I mean it."
"Also... a little secret: my dad has a cellar full of vintage wine. Maybe next time, we can bring Gwen along and find out what it's actually like to get a bit tipsy."
The drinking age is 21, and while most teens sneak a drink before then, Peter and Gwen had been the "good kids" until now. Felicia grabbed her bag, winking at him playfully as she reached the door.
"See you tomorrow, Peter." "See you tomorrow."
Peter watched her leave, a slight smirk playing on his lips. Invite Gwen to a wine cellar? I highly doubt that's how that invite would actually go down...
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