Chapter 27: Bonds of Mortality - Part 6

Looking back—

Fisk had already decided to kill Norman Osborn… right after he became the Green Goblin.

Quest Aerospace, a military corporation backed by Wilson Fisk, had been locked in a power struggle with Oscorp over government contracts.

Fisk had planned to seize those contracts through bribes and intimidation—then buy out the weakened Oscorp and claim their technology for himself.

But that scheme was derailed the moment a cornered Norman Osborn transformed into the Green Goblin… and assassinated Quest’s top brass.

In the end, Oscorp was still acquired—but Quest’s influence took a severe blow.

Having his plan thrown off course, Fisk couldn’t hide his fury toward Norman Osborn.

Killing a man who’s already been arrested and erased from public life… it was pointless and meaningless.

Even Fisk understood that.

But what he couldn’t forgive—what he couldn’t tolerate—was letting that man live on after humiliating him, after making him feel that way.

Kingpin might be a cerebral type of villain.

But more than that, he was a villain deeply obedient to one emotion: rage.

After Norman was arrested and placed in a prison for enhanced individuals, a GPS-equipped biometric chip was implanted in him.

The arrest of Oscorp’s CEO had caused such a stir that executing him inside prison was too risky.

So—just in case.

Just in case he ever escaped… they’d be able to find him and kill him.

That’s why the chip was implanted—to keep a trace on him.

I activated the locator function in my mask and pulled up Norman’s position.

The data, gathered from a satellite under Fisk’s control, processed and projected within the mask.

Ahead, 100 meters.

I could see the Goblin Glider in the distance—riding it, Norman, the Green Goblin.

I chased after him, using the claw hook on my right arm.

When the Goblin soared above the abandoned station—

—I pulled a knife from my thigh holster.

Unfortunately, this knife is the only weapon I have on me right now.

After the battle with Captain America and Black Widow, my suit was repaired in time—but the weapons weren’t ready.

There was a shotgun and a gun launcher, but… for a pursuit and assassination like this, being light is better. I didn’t bring them.

So now, my only weapon—

I raised the carbon-alloy knife and hurled it straight at the Goblin’s glider.

It sliced through the night sky and struck the glider’s engine dead-on.

The knife I use is black—completely non-reflective.

In this dimly lit night sky, it’s nearly invisible.

The Goblin seemed to panic, but the glider kept descending toward the ground.

It has engines on both sides; even with one destroyed, it wouldn't crash straight down.

As the glider crash-landed into the abandoned station, I fired the claw hook.

It embedded into a light fixture, shattering the bulb.

I kicked off the ground and pulled hard on the wire.

A sharp force yanked me forward into the air.

I reeled the claw tip back in—

—and plunged into the abandoned station, chasing the Goblin.

Cracked tiles.

Fractured concrete.

Exposed steel framework.

Worn-out tracks.

Dim emergency lights barely glowing.

Crude graffiti sprayed across the walls.

Once a vibrant place where many people came and went.

Now, fallen. And fallen. And fallen again—into decay, into disgrace.

Just like the disgusting green goblin writhing on the ground in front of me.

“Nice to meet you, Norman.”

When I spoke, he turned around, startled.

Just as he tried to speak—

—I punched him hard in the face.

“Gghuh—whuh—!?”

Before he could react, I punched him again.

He staggered back, desperately trying to put some distance between us.

Then, pointing at me with a gloved hand—

“Y-You bastard! Who the hell are you!? Why are you trying to kill me!? Are you one of Spider-Man’s al—”

“I’m not. And I don’t need you to talk anymore.”

I cut him off and clenched my fist.

A grinding sound escaped my joints.

I couldn’t suppress the urge to kill this man standing before me.

Just remembering Gwen's condition… it makes my brain feel like it’s boiling. Like I might lose control.

No—maybe I already have.

I stepped toward the Goblin.

I’ll torture him to death.

The Goblin pulled a bomb—his signature “Pumpkin Bomb”—from his belt and hurled it at me.

I didn’t dodge. I caught it with my left hand.

“Heh! Dumbass!”

He hit the switch, and the bomb exploded in my hand.

Dust burst through the abandoned station.

Both our visions were momentarily blinded.

The Pumpkin Bomb—emitting extremely high thermal energy—vaporizes anything it hits directly in an instant.

Only scorched bones remain. It’s that powerful.

A direct hit means certain death.

Normally.

“Grh…gh…”

But I’m not normal.

I brushed the dust aside and stood before the Goblin.

Then, I drove a hard punch straight into his gut.

“Ugh… bleeugh—!”

I heard the sound of him vomiting inside his mask.

Sure, the green protective suit he’s wearing might be state-of-the-art.

It might absorb shock and reduce damage.

But if you’re hit with overwhelming force—

—none of that matters.

The protective gear around the Goblin’s midsection—designed to mimic abs—was cracking.

The Goblin clutched his stomach, doubling over in pain.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him to the ground.

Straddling his collapsed body, I drove my fist into his face.

Again.

“Ggyah!”

And again.

“Ugh—gah!”

Again and again and again.

“S-Stop—!”

“…What’s wrong, Norman Osborn? Didn’t you say telling someone to stop never works?”

I kept punching him in the face.

His head bounced off the concrete floor.

Cracks spread out like a crater beneath it.

…Tough bastard.

As I kept hitting him, his mask broke, revealing his real face.

There was no wicked grin there anymore—only a pitiful man, trembling in fear and pain.

But I didn’t stop.

When he reached for his waist, maybe to fight back, I stomped on his arm and snapped it underfoot.

A dull crack echoed.

“Ah… guhAAHH…!!”

He screamed—louder than he had all day—and writhed in agony.

And seeing that—

I laughed.

Until now, I’ve lived doing what I had to do to survive.

Things I had to do—and things I didn’t want to do.

Those contradictions lived side by side inside me.

I had to kill.

But I didn’t want to kill.

I struggled with that contradiction and somehow managed to live with it.

But now?

Right now?

I have to kill this bastard in front of me.

And deep down, I want to kill him.

Everything I’ve suppressed is now flooding out—like a dam that’s finally broken.

Die in as much pain as possible.

I poured every ounce of hatred into each blow.

The blood splattering back onto my armored gloves formed red droplets that dripped onto the floor.

So what if I don’t have a knife?

So what if I don’t have a weapon?

I am the weapon.

A killer molded for one purpose: to take lives.

I’ve lived as someone who must be that.

Killing with my bare hands—it’s nothing.

After a few more hits, the Goblin stopped reacting.

I stood up and pressed down on his chest with my foot. It rose and fell slightly with his breathing. He wasn’t dead yet.

I gripped the Goblin Glider, which had crashed and was now embedded in the floor.

Lifting it easily with one hand, like a grocery bag, I raised it above his head.

The tip of the glider was sharp—like a blade.

If I brought it down on his neck, there’d be no doubt. He’d die.

I was just about to strike—

—but a web line stopped me.

“…Spider-Man.”

There he was—just as we’d parted earlier.

Gwen… she was probably in a hospital by now.

He stood before me empty-handed, but his body was clearly battered and broken.

Normally, seeing him would’ve filled me with joy.

But not now.

Not like this.

Just this once—I didn’t want to see him.

I didn’t want him to see what I’d become.

I didn’t want him to stop me.

From behind my mask, I glared at the hero I had always admired—Spider-Man.

I saw Norman about to be killed right before my eyes… and acted on instinct, shooting out my web to save him.

The man in the red mask—Redcap—turned his face toward me.

He said nothing. Just stared.

With no eyes, no nose, no visible expression, the mask gave away nothing.

It was unsettling.

『I warned you not to interfere.』

The voice came from behind the mask.

“Killing… You can’t kill him.”

『Why not? It’s not like I’m asking you to do it. Besides, this man has taken the lives of countless innocent people.』

Redcap pointed directly at me.

『He deserves to die.』

What he said sounded right.

And yet…

Even so.

“If he dies, he can’t atone… And it’s not like Norman chose to be evil! He didn’t—"

『Ah, yes. I know. You want to say it was the drugs that twisted his heart, right?』

I was shocked that he knew about Norman’s past.

“Then why…?”

『Because it doesn’t matter, Spider-Man.』

“It doesn’t… matter?”

『That’s right. It doesn’t. No matter how tragic the past. No matter what the circumstances. A villain is still a villain.』

The concrete beneath Redcap’s feet cracked.

He must’ve stomped the ground with force.

『You think killing is justified? That hurting people can be forgiven? Don’t be ridiculous. It must never be forgiven.』

Driven by something like obsession, he kept pressing on, his words relentless.

『Sooner or later, he should die. He must die. Before he hurts someone else.』

“But even if he’s done bad things… he could still change. He could still become a good person—!”

『He won’t. And even if he did, it wouldn’t mean a damn thing. Killing people and then claiming redemption? It’s disgusting.』

I fell silent.

A part of me… believed him.

But there was one thing I couldn’t let slide, even if it came out sounding desperate.

“Then what about you…? You’ve killed people too! That means you—!”

『Yes. I’m someone who should die too.』

“...What?”

I lost my words.

『But I don’t want to die, Spider-Man.』

The red mask stared back at me.

He pressed his fingers to his temple.

『All the lives I’ve taken… all the people I’ve killed. If I died now, it would all be meaningless. I’ve lived by taking others’ lives… So how could I possibly choose to die now?』

I didn’t understand it all.

But still… I felt something heavy and sorrowful pressing on my chest.

A sense of helplessness I couldn’t shake.

『…One day, I will die. Pathetically, pitifully, hated by all. But that day isn’t today.』

Redcap picked up his glider again.

“Wait—”

『The difference between me and this man…』

The glider pierced through Norman’s neck.

『…is just strength. Or the lack of it. That’s all there is to it, Spider-Man.』