Manhunt

The white man, a step behind, ran much slower than his companion. He was using his phone to call Head Wolf and speaking through his headset microphone.

"Boss, there's a problem. Our target wasn't at home—she ran out onto the street. Mike fired and went after her."

After putting the connected phone back into his pocket, the white man picked up his pace considerably.

The voice on the phone was far from calm. "Damn it, why weren't you watching that reckless idiot? That was your most important job." "I wanted to. I even deliberately walked ahead so he could only see my back. Who knew she'd run out from behind and Mike would spot her first?" "Did your shots cause any casualties?"

"No, Boss."

"Good. At least the police and that troublesome figure won't be drawn here too quickly."

"Spider-Man?"

"Who else do you think I'm worried about? Do you have any way to deal with that freak if you run into him?"

Ever since New York's friendly neighborhood hero had started operating, mercenaries had cut back on their business in New York, aside from gang enforcers and street thugs. Judging solely from the footage in the news, Spider-Man's abilities were impossible to counter.

Without any way to deal with the elusive Spider-Man or resist his webs, doing anything in New York that might draw his attention was undoubtedly foolish.

Not to mention anything else—the Continental Hotel's business had shifted toward more covert assassinations. They no longer shot down their targets in busy districts in broad daylight, taking a crowd of innocent bystanders with them. That was practically an invitation for Spider-Man to come after them.

As for joining forces to take out Spider-Man... who was paying?

They were all people who took money to kill. If no one was