Marvel: The Amazing Spider-Man in the Multiverse

"So, now you're concerned about other people's mental health, huh, friendly neighbor." Frank, confirming it was just past four in the morning, picked up the unfinished whiskey bottle, poured himself another glass, then sat at the bar and downed it.

"Normally, I'd tell someone to go to hell. But I met a guy in Hell's Kitchen." He gestured towards Peter: "Just like you, all in red. He taught me... how to deal with people like you."

Spider-Man nodded while sipping his coffee: "Daredevil. I've heard of him. People say he's a good man."

"Yeah, I fought him twice because he didn't want me to kill some bastard."

The Punisher ran a hand through his hair, then suddenly brought the conversation back: "When you first appeared in front of me, I thought you'd be like him, saying some bull about how once you kill someone, there's no turning back, or that you'll become just like them. You didn't, so I thought you were alright."

"I was just trying to confirm whether the law could punish the Chameleon, and if the Chameleon was beyond redemption."

"He's a hopeless, unpunishable bastard." The Punisher listened to Spider-Man's explanation and didn't argue, just poured another drink and said: "You wanted to know if I had a personal grudge against him, right? I'll tell you, I do."

"He kidnapped a man, a father, then dressed up as him to kill other people, and then he let him go. I didn't know about that bastard Chameleon back then, but he had already discovered me. He did it on purpose."

Frank Castle didn't say what happened next, but Peter already knew what the Punisher did.

"That woman, and their children... watched their father, a poor man who had been held captive in a basement for over half a month and just released, get shot to death in front of them by another bastard... They were having a picnic in Central Park that day. The wife and children, watching their father gunned down!"

He tilted his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing. The glass slammed heavily onto the bar with a thud, followed only by the helpless curses of a middle-aged man.

"Goddammit!"

"Are you alright...?"

The Punisher covered his head with one hand and swatted away Spider-Man's outstretched hand with the other. Then he pulled out several bottles of pills from his pocket and swallowed them: painkillers, blockers, and tranquilizers.

"That's a personal vendetta, kid. Sometimes Red (the Punisher's nickname for Daredevil) is right, killing those bastards doesn't bring you peace, you'll always feel empty. But some people are better off dead, don't you think?"

He finished his pills, lit a cigarette, and then countered: "Like your... friend?"

"...I really can't find a way to convince Karl King to turn back or accept legal punishment. He, he ate his mother."

Peter couldn't fathom how anyone could do such a thing. He put down his coffee, walked to the railing, and looked at New York City still shrouded in darkness: "I can't hope he still has a conscience and won't go after my family or friends... I can't find any other way, except to kill him or permanently imprison him."

"If you can't do it, leave it to me."

Frank Castle downed the rest of his drink: "It's almost five. Let's move."

At seven in the morning, Gwen Stacy emerged from the subway station near Midtown High, carrying her backpack, feeling somewhat agitated as she walked towards the school. She felt she had gathered enough evidence to prove that her childhood friend, Peter Parker, was Spider-Man, but yesterday when she messaged Peter, he said he had something to do and would be home very late.

In reality, Peter Parker didn't come home at all last night. Gwen watched the Parker house all night; no lights came on, no spider-person climbed in under the cover of darkness, and no one emerged from the Parker house this morning.

What worried Gwen even more was that when she messaged Peter again this morning, he didn't reply.

"Welcome to today's Daily Bugle Morning News! We have received word that an office building under construction, belonging to Roxxon Energy Corporation, exploded yesterday. Although there is no direct visual evidence, according to the eyewitness testimony of someone calling himself Detective Mac, he saw Spider-Man fighting someone on the ruins after the explosion!"

Jonah Jameson, true to form, lambasted Spider-Man: "So, without a doubt, it was Spider-Man's fight that caused that explosion. Some might say this is the action of a superhero, but if every time these masked vigilantes act, they blow up a building or destroy Times Square! Then what's truly dangerous?! Is it ordinary criminal activity?! Or these damned masked vigilantes?!"

Gwen wasn't interested in this sensationalized reporting. If Peter were here, he'd probably scoff, but she wasn't in the mood.

Gwen walked to the subway exit and felt someone staring at her, but before she could turn to see who it was, her waist was encircled, and she was lifted off the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. When her feet finally touched solid ground again, she was already on the rooftop of a school building near Midtown High.

"Phew—"

Still shaken, she let out a long breath and saw the Spider-Man holding her release his grip, saying seriously: "Miss, you might not know this, but—"

"Peter? What happened?"

"You're currently—"

Spider-Man was abruptly cut off, then looked at her, bewildered, asking the rather foolish rhetorical question.

"Who, who's Peter?"

"Listen, no matter what, you should..." Gwen ignored her wind-tousled hair. She quickly realized something, then stared at the Spider-Man in front of her: "I'm in danger, aren't I?"

"Uh, yes! Some people are after you, Miss." Spider-Man said, running towards the edge of the rooftop, looking back at her as he ran: "Don't move around until it's safe!"

"Alright, we'll talk later." Gwen thought to text Mary Jane, asking her to make an excuse for her and Peter, then recalled the brief swinging experience. It wasn't very scary; on the contrary, she felt an unprecedented sense of freedom, even if she was being carried.

If only I could swing freely through New York like that.

Meanwhile, Spider-Man, who had leaped from the rooftop, free-fell while spraying himself with pheromones from a small bottle. The scent, like rotting tropical plants, was truly off-putting, but it was the most effective attractant for Karl King's spider swarm.

"Alright, Karl, you don't have time to pick a second target!" Spider-Man, having swung to the subway exit, turned on his thermal imaging and punched a hippie-dressed passerby. The crowd, which hadn't reacted moments ago, now saw Spider-Man brutally beating a civilian—this time, the Chameleon didn't need to spread rumors, not when the beaten civilian's entire face peeled off, revealing countless spiders spilling out from inside.

"How's that, Karl? I bought a new cologne. How does it smell?"

Webbing Karl King's mouth shut, Spider-Man dragged the spider swarm away from the subway station and slammed it onto the street: "Come on, just the two of us!"

Eugene "Flash" Thompson, who had just emerged from the subway, witnessed this shocking scene. He saw Spider-Man swing away, then a whole bunch of disgusting spiders crawl out of the sewer and merge into the humanoid monster, also swinging after Spider-Man. His eyes widened involuntarily, then he looked at the school next to him.

"I'm taking a day off today!".

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