unisher?
As that tall figure with the white Skull Emblem on his chest stepped out from the hole in the wall, information flashed rapidly through Gwen's mind.
Frank Castle.
She recalled the data Peter had looked up before—The Punisher of this World was a ruthless character who fought fire with fire, just like in the comics. But there was one piece of information she hadn't paid much attention to before: Frank Castle had once served in the NYPD's Special Crimes Unit.
And the person in charge of that Special Crimes Unit—
Gwen turned her gaze toward George.
Was her father.
So, was The Punisher outside help called in by her dad?
Gwen quickly connected the dots in her head. This Universe didn't have Nick Fury, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was barely a presence, but the NYPD had its own network. George Stacy had been a cop for over twenty years; it made sense that he knew a few people through "special channels."
Murakami's gaze lingered on The Punisher for a moment before falling back onto Gwen.
His expression changed.
It wasn't fear—an old monster like him, who had lived for hundreds of years, wouldn't be afraid just because one more person showed up.
It was something more subtle.
Like a re-evaluation.
"Interesting," Murakami spoke slowly, his voice remaining steady. "Spider-Man, the Captain, and The Punisher—it's quite a gathering of heroes tonight."
His gaze locked onto Gwen, his eyes shining with a light she couldn't quite decipher.
"Spider-Man," he said, "I know who you are."
Gwen's heart jolted.
In her earpiece, Peter's voice rang out urgently: "Gwen, be careful, he's bluffing—"
But Murakami's expression didn't look like a bluff.
He looked at her, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"You have already acquired abilities far beyond human evolution," he said. "Why do such boring things? Protecting humanity?"
Gwen was stunned for a moment.
Why did that sound so familiar?
Classic lines from countless superhero movies she had seen in her past life flashed through her mind—it seemed like every villain said something similar when trying to recruit the protagonist.
"What's wrong with protecting humanity?" she countered.
Murakami let out a soft chuckle.
"Humanity?" he said. "Look at them."
He tilted his chin toward the Police officers holding guns, toward the people locked in wooden crates, and toward the man in the distance with the Skull Emblem on his chest.
"They fear you, reject you, and exploit you. Once you lose your utility, they will lock you up like a monster." Murakami's voice carried a seductive quality. "But you are different. You are no longer one of them. You are an evolved being. A higher existence."
As Gwen listened to these words, only one thought crossed her mind:
Was this script copied from some movie?
"And so?" she asked, her tone carrying a hint of playfulness she hadn't even noticed herself. "You want me to join The Hand? Be your subordinate?"
Murakami's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Not a subordinate," he said. "An equal. We can give you anything you desire—wealth, power, knowledge. Even—"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over George before landing back on Gwen.
"Even, you can continue to be your 'hero.' Only, in our way."
Gwen fell silent.
The entire warehouse went quiet for a few seconds.
The ninjas didn't move. The Police didn't move. Everyone was waiting for her answer.
George's gaze was fixed on the red and blue figure, staring at the long blonde hair peeking out from the edge of the mask.
His hand tightened around his gun, but he said nothing.
The Punisher blew out a smoke ring, watching the scene with interest.
In the earpiece, Peter's voice rang out again: "Gwen, don't listen to him—"
Gwen certainly wouldn't listen.
But she suddenly realized something.
When she wore the mask, she seemed to—
Talk more?
Usually at school, she wasn't much of a talker. When chatting with Mary Jane and the others, she mostly listened and said little. But now, standing in this warehouse, facing the leader of The Hand and dozens of Police officers, she actually felt an urge to keep the conversation going.
Is this mask cursed or something?
Gwen cleared her throat and spoke.
"Mr. Murakami," she said, her voice processed by the voice changer to have a slight metallic edge, "thank you for the offer. Really. It's quite sincere."
Murakami's brow twitched slightly.
"However," Gwen continued, "I have a question for you."
"Speak."
"You just said that I'm no longer human?"
Murakami nodded.
"Then what about you?" Gwen asked. "How long have you lived? Hundreds of years? Or thousands?"
Murakami didn't answer.
Gwen smiled.
"You've lived for so long," she said, "that you've long since stopped being human, right? At least, not an ordinary human. But what are you doing now?"
She pointed at the people locked in the wooden crates.
"Kidnapping. Human trafficking. Organ harvesting. Murder." She enunciated each word. "Is this what a 'higher existence' does?"
Murakami's expression turned cold.
Gwen turned to The Punisher.
"Mr. Punisher," she said, her tone becoming slightly more polite, "I've seen reports about you. Your methods... are indeed not very gentle. But I won't judge; you have your way."
The Punisher had a cigar in his mouth and didn't speak, but he gave a slight nod.
Finally, Gwen turned to George.
"Captain," she said, her voice becoming solemn, "I know you don't trust me. That Jameson guy on TV curses me every day, so it's normal for you to be suspicious. But tonight—"
She glanced at the wooden crates.
"Those people are my fellow citizens. I cannot watch them be shipped away like cargo."
George looked at her and remained silent for a few seconds.
"Spider-Man," he finally spoke, his voice steady, "if you do not interfere with law enforcement, we will not move against you. However—"
"However what?"
"However, you must let us finish our work," George said. "Now, please step aside."
Gwen blinked.
Was this... trust?
Or just a temporary ceasefire?
Either way, it was enough.
She took a step back.
Murakami's expression finally changed.
"That's it?" He looked at Gwen. "You refuse?"
Gwen tilted her head.
"Mr. Murakami," she said, "do you know why I came tonight?"
Murakami did not answer.
"Because I knew it was a trap," Gwen said. "But if I didn't come, those people would die. My dad—uh, I mean, the Captain—they would have fallen into your encirclement."
She paused, a hint of a smile in her voice.
"So I didn't come because I'm stupid. I came because I have help."
Murakami's gaze swept over The Punisher, over the Police officers, and finally landed on Gwen.
"Just these?" he asked.
Gwen smiled.
"And more."
She raised her hand, aiming her wrist at the ninjas.
"The fact that I came means—I think I can win."
The battle erupted.
The Punisher was the first to strike.
He spat out his cigar and pulled two submachine guns from his waist, the muzzles spitting tongues of fire. Before the ninjas could react, three or four of them were shot and fell to the ground.
But his marksmanship was terrifyingly precise—every shot avoided vital organs, hitting legs, shoulders, or arms. He wanted to leave them alive.
Gwen saw her chance, flicked her wrist, and shot a strand of web. It wrapped around a ninja's ankle, and she pulled hard. The man lost his balance, slammed into a nearby iron railing, and passed out instantly.
Environmental takedown, perfect efficiency.
More ninjas swarmed forward.
George's voice rang out in the chaos: "NYPD, secure the scene! Do not fire blindly!"
The Police charged in, clashing with the ninjas. But the ninjas' movements were too fast, and several officers were knocked to the ground.
Gwen fired webs while keeping an eye on her surroundings.
Her Spider-Sense was ringing constantly, but the sensation was different—it wasn't a warning of fatal danger, but rather a dense series of "pay attention here" and "watch out there." It was like playing a high-difficulty action game where an enemy could pop out from any corner.
She kicked away a charging ninja and used her webbing to stick another to the wall.
"Watch your back!"
George's voice suddenly rang out.
Gwen instinctively dodged to the side as a shuriken whizzed past her shoulder and embedded itself in a pillar behind her.
She turned back to see Murakami standing not far away, holding a short blade and walking toward her.
The ordinary ninjas could be left to others, but Murakami—
He was her opponent.
"Spider-Man," Murakami said, "I gave you a chance."
Gwen settled into a fighting stance.
"Then I thank you," she said. "But I refuse."
Murakami moved.
His speed was incredible. The short blade flashed with a cold light, heading straight for Gwen's throat. Gwen's Spider-Sense flared, and she leaned back as the blade grazed the tip of her nose.
She used the momentum of leaning back to kick Murakami's lower abdomen.
It hit.
But Murakami only swayed slightly, then swept his blade back in a horizontal slash.
Gwen flipped to dodge, while flicking her wrist to shoot a strand of Silk at his face. Murakami tilted his head, and the Silk stuck to the pillar behind him.
Gwen pulled hard, using the tension to lunge forward, throwing a punch at Murakami's chest.
She put all her strength into this punch—dozens of tons of force; even Murakami should—
Murakami's palm met it, steadily catching her fist.
Gwen was stunned.
He caught it?
The corner of Murakami's mouth curled into a cold arc.
"Good strength," he said, "but what do you think I've relied on to live for hundreds of years?"
He twisted his wrist, and Gwen felt herself lifted by a massive force, sent flying into the air, then slammed heavily onto the ground.
Pain.
It hurt too much.
Gwen gritted her teeth and rolled up, seeing Murakami already charging again.
His blade stabbed toward her heart.
Gwen's Spider-Sense blared to the extreme. She wanted to dodge, but her body hadn't recovered from the fall—
Just as the tip of the blade was about to pierce her chest, a black short Baton intervened, steadily parrying Murakami's blade.
Gwen was stunned.
The owner of that Baton was a figure in a red and black Suit. There were two letters on his chest—DD.
Devil Mask. Twin Batons. Red and black Suit.
Daredevil.
"Murakami," the figure spoke, his voice deep and slightly raspy, "long time no see."
Murakami's pupils constricted slightly.
"Matt Murdock," he said, "you really are still alive."
Daredevil didn't answer. He spun the Baton in his hand, forcing Murakami's blade back, while sweeping the other Baton across, striking directly at Murakami's temple.
Murakami took a step back to dodge the blow, his expression turning grave.
"Daredevil," Gwen climbed up from the ground, looking at this sudden reinforcement in surprise, "you—"
"Don't talk." Daredevil interrupted her, his voice concise and powerful, "Leave him to me. Go help the others."
Gwen opened her mouth to say something, but seeing him already engaging Murakami, she could only nod and turn to charge at the ninjas.
But in her mind, a thought was churning.
Daredevil.
Matt Murdock.
In this Universe, he wasn't Kingpin's subordinate.
He was a Vigilante.
An ally.
Gwen couldn't help but let the corners of her mouth curl up.
Good.
That's great.
She charged at the group of ninjas, her wrists flicking repeatedly, Silk flying everywhere. Combined with The Punisher's suppressive fire and the Police's encirclement, the ninjas began to retreat.
In the chaos, Gwen took a moment to look back.
Daredevil and Murakami were still locked in combat. His twin Batons moved like an impenetrable wall, each strike precisely aimed at Murakami's vitals. Though Murakami's short blade was fierce, he was actually falling behind under Daredevil's assault.
An old monster who had lived for hundreds of years was being suppressed by a Blind Lawyer?
Gwen's eyes widened.
This was Daredevil's true strength?
"Don't daze off!"
The Punisher's voice pulled her back. Gwen snapped out of it, saw a ninja charging at her, and quickly wrapped him up with a strand of Silk.
The battle continued.
But Gwen knew that tonight, the scales of victory had already tipped.
Murakami was forced back several steps by Daredevil, his face turning ashen.
He looked around—his ninjas were being subdued one by one, the Police had controlled most of the area, The Punisher's machine gun was still roaring, and that Spider-Man was taking down his subordinates one by one along with a red and black figure.
The tide had turned.
His gaze swept over Gwen, over Daredevil, and finally landed on George.
"Captain Stacy," he said, "you won tonight. But—"
He paused, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold arc.
"This is only the beginning."
Before his voice could fade, he suddenly leapt backward, throwing several Smoke Bombs.
White smoke instantly filled the area.
"Don't let him get away!" George's voice rang out.
Gwen rushed into the smoke, but she couldn't see anything. Her Spider-Sense became chaotic in the smoke, with danger signals everywhere, but no way to discern direction.
When the smoke cleared, Murakami was gone.
Only Daredevil stood there, twin Batons at his side, facing the direction where Murakami had vanished.
"He's gone," he said.
Gwen landed beside him, feeling a bit frustrated.
"You couldn't catch him?"
Daredevil turned his head, the white lenses on his mask facing her.
"I couldn't," he said. "He knows this place too well."
Gwen sighed.
Forget it. At least they won tonight.
She looked around—most of the ninjas had been subdued, the Police were opening the wooden crates to rescue the people inside. The Punisher stood to the side, relighting a cigar.
George was walking toward her.
Gwen's heart skipped a beat.
He was coming over.
Her instinct was to run, but she felt that running now didn't seem right.
George stopped in front of her, looking at her.
Moonlight shone through the broken window, illuminating her figure—the red and blue Suit, the black spider emblem on her chest, and a few strands of long blonde hair peeking out from the edge of her mask.
George's gaze lingered on those few strands of blonde hair for a moment.
Gwen's heart leapt into her throat.
But George said nothing.
He just looked at her, silent for a few seconds, then spoke.
"Thank you."
Gwen was stunned.
"You saved these people," George said. "Thank you."
Gwen opened her mouth, not knowing what to say.
Finally, she just nodded.
"It's what I should do."
George gave her another look, then turned to walk toward the rescued people.
Gwen stood there, watching his back, a strange feeling welling up inside her.
He didn't know it was her.
Or rather, he didn't confirm it was her.
But he said thank you.
That was enough.
Daredevil walked over and stood beside her.
"Are you new?" he asked.
"Kind of," Gwen said. "What about you? How long have you been around?"
"A long time." Daredevil paused. "I've heard of you. Good job."
Gwen couldn't help but smile.
Being praised by Daredevil felt quite strange.
"Thank you."
Daredevil nodded and turned to leave.
"Wait," Gwen called out to him, "In the future... can we work together?"
Daredevil stopped and looked back at her.
Behind those white lenses, Gwen couldn't see his eyes, but she could feel him scrutinizing her.
After a few seconds, he nodded.
"We can."
Then he leapt into the darkness and disappeared into the night.
Gwen stood there, looking in that direction, suddenly feeling a sense of unreality.
Daredevil.
He really exists.
And he's a good person.
Her ally.
"Gwen," Peter's voice sounded in her earpiece, carrying a hint of relief after a narrow escape, "are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Gwen said softly. "And you?"
"I'm outside, I'm fine." Peter paused. "That Daredevil... he really showed up."
"Yeah."
"He said you could work together?"
"Yeah."
There was a few seconds of silence in the earpiece.
"Gwen," Peter's voice became very soft, "you did it."
Gwen was startled for a moment.
"What?"
"You saved those people," Peter said. "You defeated Murakami. You have a new ally."
He paused.
"You did it."
Standing under the moonlight, listening to Peter's voice, Gwen suddenly felt her eyes sting a little.
She took a deep breath, pushing the emotion down.
"It's not over yet," she said. "Murakami got away."
"But he lost," Peter said. "Tonight, he lost."
Gwen thought about it and smiled.
"I suppose so."
She took one last look at the rescued people, at George directing the scene, and at the Skull Emblem biting a cigar in the distance.
Then she leapt into the night sky.
Silk shot out, and she swung away under the moonlight.
Peter's voice was still in the earpiece.
"Going home?"
"Going home."
The night wind blew, carrying the characteristic salty scent of the harbor.
Gwen swung over rooftops, looking at the New York lights below.
Tonight, they won.
But she also knew this was only the beginning.
Murakami's words were still echoing in her ears—
"This is only the beginning."
Yes.
This is only the beginning.
But it doesn't matter.
She has Peter.
She has Daredevil.
She has those willing to believe in her.
Enough.
The corners of Gwen's mouth curled slightly as she accelerated her swing toward home.