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Chapter 35: Sinister Six - Part 3

Jessica knocked on the door.

But it wasn’t a cute little knock knock.
It was more of a bang bang… no, actually, it was probably closer to just hitting the door twice.

A detached house in the outskirts of Hell’s Kitchen.
It looked a little run-down… and despite it being morning, the curtains were still drawn.
There were no lights on inside, and the place likely sat in dim silence.

From the outside, it just looked vacant.

But after a moment, the door opened.

Standing there was a man about the same age as Jessica.
He wore red sunglasses and had an unshaven face.
He was in a suit… maybe he was about to head out?

And in his hand, a white cane.
…Sunglasses indoors.

He wasn’t facing Jessica… probably blind.

“…Jessica. I’ve got work today, you know.”

Yet somehow, he already knew it was Jessica at the door.
…Was this the lawyer Jessica had mentioned?

“Emergency. Skip work.”

“Easier said than done… it’s just me and Foggy at the firm, you know?”

Grumbling, he still let us in.

Jessica, acting like she knew the place well, flicked on the lights.
The once-dim room brightened.

Jessica plopped down onto the living room sofa, so I followed and sat next to her.

“So? What’s the emergency? The Hand? Or did you have a fight with Luke?”

The lawyer guy set down three cups of coffee on the table.

…Even though I hadn’t said a word, he knew I was here.
Even without his sight, he must have some way of sensing people.

“The Hand’s out of business since Luke and Danny beat the crap out of them, remember? And if I fought Luke, I’d win, so it wouldn’t even be a fight… the reason we’re here is this.”

Jessica patted my shoulder.

“…I’ve been wondering. Who’s the kid?”

“Spider-Man.”

“Ah, I… I’m Spider-Man… sir?”

Introduced by Jessica, I quickly scrambled to introduce myself.
It made the whole vibe painfully awkward.

Hearing that, the lawyer guy pressed his hand to his face and leaned deep into the chair.

“…Seriously?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“That’s something people who don’t lie usually say.”

He grimaced, then turned his face toward me.

“Matt Murdock. I’m a lawyer in this city. Nice to meet you.”

“Ah, yes! Nice to meet you too…!”

I reached out to shake hands… and his grip was way stronger than I expected.
It felt like if I punched a rock, the rock would come off worse.

Matt, the lawyer, seemed to be sizing me up too—he gave my hand a firm squeeze.

“…I see. He does feel like Spider-Man. Didn’t realize he was so young…”

“I was surprised too, but hey, I was about that age when I started hero work.”

Jessica said with a bit of a wry smile.

“Wait, you were a hero back in the day, Jessica-san?”

“Yeah. Some stuff happened… I fought the Avengers to the death and then retired.”

That bombshell made me instinctively scoot a step away from her.

“Haha, it’s fine, really. We made up ages ago.”

“R-Really?”

“Besides, the current Avengers include a bunch of people who were once enemies too. In this line of work, that’s normal.”

Even though I was still nervous, I’d been with Jessica long enough now to know she wasn’t a bad person… so I decided to trust her.

But yeah, now it made sense—her crazy strength came from being a former superhero.

“So, Matt. About the situation—”

Jessica explained the current issue.
A villain group called the Sinister Six.

I filled in the details as needed, helping answer Matt’s questions.

He had a thoughtful look on his face.

“Six people… Spider-Man, Jessica… counting me, we’d need at least three more. I have a few ideas.”

“Wait, you’re going to fight too, Matt-san?”

Matt was blind.
That much was clear from earlier… and the way he wasn’t making eye contact with either me or Jessica at all.

“Haha, you worried about me?”

“Ah, well… I mean, you can’t see, right?”

As I said that, Jessica suddenly stood up and walked toward the kitchen, which we could see from the living room.

She pulled out an orange from a drawer and grabbed a fruit knife from the knife stand.

I kept an eye on her while continuing my conversation with Matt.

“Spider-Man, it’s true that I can’t see. But—”

Clink clink.

There was a sound from the kitchen.

Jessica had tapped the sink twice with the flat side of the fruit knife.

What’s she doing? I thought, focusing on her—

And then, suddenly, she threw the fruit knife.

Right at Matt.

“Wait—!”

The suddenness of it all left me frozen.

The knife closed in on the back of Matt’s head...

Matt caught it with two fingers.
Without even turning his face.

“…Jessica. What the hell was that for?”

“I figured it’d be faster to just show him.”

Jessica said casually as she bit into the orange, completely unbothered.

“You’re always so unpredictable.”

“I even gave you a signal, you know?”

With a sigh, Matt tossed the knife into the air.
It spun as it flew, then landed neatly back into the knife stand with a thunk.

“Um? What just…?”

Still not sure what had just happened, I looked to Matt for an explanation.

“For the record, I’m an off-the-books hero myself. Like you, I help protect this city. So there’s no need to worry.”

Matt folded his hands.
Jessica, chuckling, placed her hand on my shoulder.

“Know what they call this guy? ‘The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.’ The Devil, can you believe it? Cracks me up.”

“Jessica… that nickname’s old news. These days—”

Matt turned toward me again.

“People call me ‘the Man Without Fear: Daredevil.’”


My name is J. Jonah Jameson.
I am the president, editor-in-chief, and a journalist at the illustrious newspaper The Daily Bugle.

The Daily Bugle stands for justice, defends the weak… and brings truth into the light.
That is our mission. Our law.

We’ve held fast to that ideal—and that’s why we’ve become the number one newspaper in all of New York City.

Our headquarters stands proudly in Midtown, equipped with a digital ticker that displays the latest headlines to all New Yorkers, day or night.

…But what is the meaning of this?

This morning, I was awakened by a knock at the door from one of our press officers.

For me, a journalist, to be the one being questioned—
Well, that’s already outrageous.

Naturally, I asked what was going on—

And was told the headquarters of The Daily Bugle had been half-destroyed.

I could feel several veins in my head burst on the spot.

Damage Control had been dispatched for the recovery.
They’re the government-backed agency that handles rebuilding structures and facilities after super-powered idiots tear through them—
A lot of our taxes go toward that, mind you.

So, if Damage Control is involved, then the destruction of the Bugle was no accident.
It means the building was damaged by someone with superpowers.

And considering the timing of this attack—

“It’s Spider-Man.”

That’s what the man in the black suit told me.

“What?! Is that true!?”

The one who spoke to me in the prefab shed was Beck… Quentin Beck.

Like me, he harbored doubts about Spider-Man, and he was a good man helping expose the truth about him.

He was also the one who provided the footage of Spider-Man killing the Green Goblin.

"Yes, this was from last night… It aired on the Daily Bugle."

As he said that, Beck showed me his smartphone.

On it was footage of Spider-Man causing destruction.

But… something felt off.

Why was it filmed so late at night?

And despite the darkness, it was remarkably clear—almost as if it had been taken by a professional cameraman.

And more than anything…

“…Hmph. Doesn’t feel right.”

“Doesn’t feel right, sir?”

“Yes, not at all! For the Spider-Menace… at the very least, he's never directly harmed a civilian before.”

I placed my right hand on my chin, tucking my left arm in.

…Could this be a fake?

That thought crossed my mind.

Come to think of it—this man, Beck—he’s just too convenient.

In this world, things that are too convenient rarely happen more than once.

The day I landed a major scoop, my wife was killed.

The day I secured a valuable contract for the paper, the detective I’d hired turned out to be a criminal.

It’s always something.

I believe life dishes out the good and the bad equally.

So then… what about this man?

Is there something he’s hiding?

"Beck, why is it that you’re pursuing him?"

“…Why, you ask?”

“For justice. For duty. To feed my employees. For mourning. For reform. That’s why I do it. And you?”

I asked the most important question.

A journalist who seeks the truth must have conviction.

Without it, no scoop—no matter how sensational—will ever lead to the truth.

The Daily Bugle is a legitimate newspaper.

We’re not some trashy gossip rag.

“Well, you see… I don’t have much time left—cancer and tumors. So I thought, maybe I could make a final contribution to society. That’s all.”

“To contribute to society?”

“Yes, exactly.”

No. That’s wrong.

Contributing to society? That’s nonsense.

This society tolerates Spider-Man.

The citizens of New York raise no objections when a hero takes down a villain.

Even if you pursue him, society will only scorn you.

It won’t make a difference.

I’m trying to change that. I’m warning people of the danger in depending on individuals, not organizations.

That’s not a contribution to society.

It’s a reform of society itself.

And the changes that come from that reform… may not be good.

Even so.

I’ll take responsibility. I’ll report the facts… and leave it to the readers.

That’s my journalism.

Beck doesn’t have that.

“…Sorry, Beck. This isn’t a story my paper will run.”

I looked away from the footage on the smartphone.

I could no longer trust this man, Beck.

This footage is probably fake.

And if that’s the case, then the previous video Beck provided… may have been fake too.

“…Are you absolutely sure?”

“Absolutely.”

I can’t sit idly by.

I have to verify the story I ran before—about Spider-Man killing Norman.

If it was false, then I…

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"Well, that just won’t do now, will it?"

Beck showed me his right hand as I turned around.

And from the ring on that hand, green smoke burst out.

"Whoa—!"

The smoke blasted into my face.

Tears and mucus started streaming uncontrollably… and breathing became impossible.

“Wh…what the— cough

“Just a little nap, if you don’t mind…”

My consciousness began to fade.

I fell on my rear.

It was hard to breathe.

I gasped over and over like a goldfish, my mouth opening again and again.

“It’s all right, Jameson. I’ve already prepared someone to take your place.”

Beck’s smiling face… twisted in an instant into the shape of a sphere.

A green costume. A rainbow-reflecting, glassy helmet shaped like a globe.

He was… that masked menace I despise.

The masked man.


This was the top floor of Oscorp’s headquarters.

The CEO’s office, closest to the roof.

…There was no one else on this floor.

Only me, the company’s president.

My father used to work here…

He brought me here several times when I was a child.

We watched the sunset together.

I used to love looking down at the city from up high.

It felt like I had become a bird—

"Harry Osborn."

I turned away from the sunset.

There stood Red Cap—the man in the red mask.

I wasn’t wearing my green suit now… but he was, as always, in his work uniform.

“What do you want? There should still be time before the meeting.”

"Are you really going to kill Spider-Man?"

Instead of answering my question, he fired off one of his own.

The corner of my eye twitched upward.

“Of course. Obviously. He took my father from me. So I have a responsibility—to take revenge.”

“…I see.”

Red Cap replied in a voice that gave no clear hint of gender.

“If you take a life… there’s no coming back.”

“…!”

The words—meant to shake my resolve—only made me angry.

“What the hell are you?! Telling me to abandon revenge?! Who do you think you are?!”

I slammed my enhanced fist down, shattering the glass desk.

“You’ve killed too, haven’t you?! Don’t pretend to be a saint!”

“…Maybe so. But remember this.”

He ignored my fury and kept speaking.

“If you fall into darkness… you’ll be killed by darkness. And even if you regret it in the end… no one will spare you a thought. You’ve been warned. The rest is up to you.”

Leaving behind those ominous words, Red Cap walked out of the room.

If that featureless mask of his had eyes… they’d have been sneering at me.

“…Damn it! Screw you…!”

I hurled a chair and shattered the glass partition.

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