The Punisher

It was a normal school day, a normal departure from school. Since the detective agency had no extra activities today, Harry and Amadeus were ready to head home, and Peter left even more decisively.

"Hello, boys."

Just as they were about to leave together, Gwen called out to the two of them. The two looked at Gwen with some confusion, their expressions blank, as if they had been suddenly called upon by a teacher.

"Gwen, right? Hello?"

Harry greeted her uncertainly, also curious why she was here, and quickly asked, "Is there something you need?"

Gwen crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping past them as if confirming the absence of someone: "Peter didn't leave with you?"

"He basically never leaves with us. He always seems really busy."

Amadeus shrugged, the strap of his backpack leaving a mark on his thin shoulders. Were they friends? They supposed so, but did they really know each other well? They hadn't even known each other for half a month. So, it wasn't strange even if Peter Parker went home alone every night.

Gwen's eyebrows rose subtly, not in a questioning way, but more like she was confirming something.

"So... you don't know where he went after school either."

Harry, who should have replied, "Should we know?", suddenly grasped the main point: "Wait, you mean Peter doesn't know where he's going after school?"

"No, it's just that he gets home late."

After Gwen finished speaking, she heard Mary Jane and the others behind her calling her to band practice. So, after a brief farewell, she left. Amadeus adjusted the strap of his backpack and pushed up his glasses.

"What do you think Peter did after school?"

"I don't know," Harry said indifferently. "Maybe Peter is the most honest one among us."

At this moment, Peter was swinging through the skies of Manhattan. It was strange, really. New York had become much more peaceful lately. The occasional criminal activities could be resolved without Spider-Man.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., have the Avengers' satellites located my imposter and the Punisher?"

Lately, Chameleon's range of activity had extended beyond Hell's Kitchen, likely to avoid being discovered by the Punisher in the same area. But Peter also knew that with Mysterio's help, the Chameleon who appeared might not be the real Chameleon, but perhaps just a projection.

In such a situation, if the Punisher were to act, it might just alert them.

The latest satellite scan results quickly appeared in his visor. The Punisher wasn't found, but the fake Spider-Man's location was clear. Peter swung over, landing on a rooftop when he was still a distance away, and began to observe his surroundings. He was sure that somewhere nearby, a place that satellites and surveillance couldn't find, the Punisher was hiding. Moreover, since he needed to spot the situation and kill Chameleon, he also needed to control the distance.

"Found you!"

Frank Castle was hiding on the rooftop of a building with cover, observing the Spider-Man in the distance resolving his opponent through binoculars. This wasn't difficult, after all, he knew exactly where and when small-time thugs would appear and cause trouble in this area.

He suddenly felt something was wrong. He lowered his binoculars and drew his gun, but the handgun in his hand was snatched away almost instantly. Then, a target he should have been watching dangled upside down, waving his hands repeatedly: "Hey, hey, calm down, buddy, calm down."

The Punisher, realizing what was happening, immediately chose to raise the sniper rifle he had placed aside, but it was snatched away by Spider-Man again. Not only did this annoying guy take his gun, but as he landed, he also stuck his hand to his own: "I know what you're going to do, but first, we need to talk."

"What's there to talk about? Since you're here, the one standing in that broken place must be that animal Chameleon. Once he's dead, everything will be over."

"That's the problem." Spider-Man said as he looked out the window. According to the thermal imaging results, neither Spider-Man nor the beaten-up thug existed: "There's no one there. It's just a projection."

The Punisher frowned.

"Do you have thermal imaging equipment? If you do, you'll know just by looking. I don't know who got their hands on Horizon Labs' advanced projection equipment and modified it. This person collaborated with Chameleon, projecting realistic projections in various places, but there's actually nothing."

Spider-Man said as he pulled the webbing off the Punisher's hand. The latter picked up another pair of binoculars and looked at Chameleon, then cursed, "Son of a beach."

"So I watched all day, went to seven or eight places, and they were all fake?"

"There must be one real place. Their target is me. They created so many imposters just to lure me into a trap." Spider-Man returned the handgun to the Punisher, stating a conclusion that the Punisher had also inferred. The latter pondered for a moment and understood Spider-Man's idea.

"You mean, you'll go and check the situation as bait, and I'll take care of that damn Chameleon behind you?"

"I... First, I need to confirm, why have you been repeatedly hunting Chameleon? Is he utterly wicked?"

Upon hearing this, the Punisher, as if reminded of something, chuckled uncontrollably while pulling the webbing off his handgun.

"Utterly wicked? If you're asking if he's done anything beyond human comprehension, like torture, no. But he's a son of a bitch who'll do anything for money. He dares to do anything for money, and more than 20 people have died by his hand."

"And... the law can't try him?"

"I know a lawyer, but even he can't put someone who doesn't show his face in jail. How are you going to make him admit to doing those things, hero?" The Punisher put his handgun away and prepared his sniper scope to leave. "Not to mention, how many people in this country, from top to bottom, want this guy to do their dirty work for them? Guess how long after he's jailed, the CIA, the FBI will find him. No one wants him dead except me."

"Oh, uh. I understand."

Spider-Man nodded and took out his phone from his pocket. "Let's exchange contact information? I need to go back and prepare. Tomorrow afternoon, around 4 PM, I'll go see what Chameleon is planning. I'll notify you then."

The Punisher hesitated for a rare moment, then exchanged phone numbers with Spider-Man – of course, Spider-Man didn't use Peter Parker's phone, but an old flip phone he'd found at a flea market, a communication device redesigned and reactivated at Avengers Tower.

After communicating with the Punisher, Spider-Man flipped out of the window and left the scene. Let Chameleon work for him for another half a day; he had some surprises to prepare for him and Mysterio.

Speaking of which, Mr. King is sick? It couldn't be because he was scared by me, could it?

Of course not. At this very moment, Carl King was curled up in bed, his body burning hot, his skin covered in bizarre red rashes. That mutated spider hadn't bestowed superpowers upon him, but instead brought him hellish torment.

Am I going to die? Am I going to die?

Amidst this pain, Mrs. King came up, carefully opening the door and bringing food. Looking at her son, Mrs. King stood at the doorway, tears welling up in her eyes, but she dared not approach: "Are you okay, Carl?"

"Give me medicine! Hurry and give me painkillers!"

"You've already taken a lot, Carl. If you continue like this, you'll become drug..."

"You bitch!" Carl, enduring the pain, picked up the alarm clock on the bedside table and threw it at his mother. "You want me to die! Just like you wanted my dad to go to jail! Right?!"

"Carl..."

"Get me the medicine!"