Thursday morning, 7:00 a.m.
Peter Parker slowly woke up from a deep sleep.
He ran a hand through his messy hair and stretched, expecting the usual stiffness from another long night.
Instead—
Every muscle in his body felt… incredible.
Peter sat up, confused.
"What the…?"
He walked to the mirror and stared at his reflection.
His eyes widened.
His upper body looked completely different. His once-average frame had transformed overnight into something closer to a professional athlete's physique. Muscles defined his shoulders, chest, and arms.
Peter flexed experimentally.
"Okay… that's new."
He awkwardly raised his fists and threw a few punches into the air.
The movement felt effortless.
His fist cut through the air with enough force to make the tall mirror in front of him tremble slightly.
Peter froze.
"Did I… always hit this hard?"
He had no idea what had caused the sudden change in his body.
But the excitement quickly overshadowed the confusion.
Grinning like a kid who had just discovered a superpower, Peter continued testing his strength.
At the same time, in Brooklyn, the atmosphere was far less cheerful.
Commissioner George Hale stood inside a ruined luxury villa, staring at the aftermath of the massacre.
Three corpses lay crushed beneath a mangled steel door.
Nearby, a massive S-shaped symbol had been drawn across the marble floor using the victims' blood.
George's expression was grim.
The police had entered through the front entrance earlier that morning and discovered that nearly everyone in the house had been killed.
The only survivor stood nearby.
A blonde woman, trembling uncontrollably.
George crouched down slightly to speak with her.
"Can you describe what happened last night?"
While forensic officers examined the scene and technicians reviewed security footage, the woman gave her statement in a shaky voice.
According to her, the killer was a man whose face looked completely destroyed by burns.
His appearance was terrifying.
And judging from the way he moved, his strength and speed were far beyond anything normal humans could achieve.
George listened carefully.
A preliminary conclusion began forming in his mind.
Mutant.
Or something very close to it.
A nearby officer approached and handed him a laptop.
"We recovered some security footage from cameras outside the property."
George began watching.
The video clearly showed the same disfigured man entering through the front gate.
He made no attempt to hide.
Anyone who tried to stop him died almost instantly.
Even the guard dogs had been killed within seconds.
The intruder moved with brutal efficiency—inhuman strength paired with terrifying speed.
Deputy Commissioner Maud stepped up beside George.
"Any thoughts?" he asked.
George kept watching the footage.
"The victim was a gang leader," he said. "It could be a contract killing from a rival group."
He paused the video.
"The Counterstrike Gang has been clashing with the AK crew recently. That's one angle we should investigate."
He continued thinking aloud.
"Another possibility is revenge. If the killer's face was truly disfigured, he might be someone the gang wronged in the past."
George leaned back slightly.
"Maybe a mutant whose abilities awakened recently."
Maud nodded.
"We should also check for fingerprints and search the house for any evidence he left behind."
George nodded in agreement.
"And pull the victim's phone records for the past month."
Maud seemed satisfied.
"Oh, by the way," he added casually, "did you ever talk to that kid the mayor wants you to recruit?"
George sighed.
"I asked."
"And?"
"He refused."
Maud blinked.
"You're just giving up like that?"
He looked incredulous.
"You barely tried."
Maud crossed his arms.
"If you want, I could apply some pressure."
George frowned.
"What kind of pressure?"
Maud shrugged.
"He's still in school, right?"
"We could lean on the administration. Make joining the police academy a requirement for graduation."
"If he refuses, he doesn't graduate."
George turned slowly and stared at him.
Then he spoke in a very serious tone.
"I only found out yesterday that my daughter likes that kid."
Maud blinked.
"…What?"
George rubbed his forehead.
"I'm not exactly thrilled about it either."
"But I'm not going to sabotage my daughter's love life."
Maud looked stunned.
"So… what are you saying?"
George shrugged slightly.
"New York's getting more dangerous every year."
"Being a police officer here is practically a death sentence."
He gave Maud a tired smile.
"If I step down after this term, that's fine."
"You've got the experience and the track record."
"Whoever becomes the next mayor will probably appoint you as commissioner anyway."
Maud stared at him for a moment before sighing.
"Well… that certainly simplifies things."
Then he added with a chuckle:
"I was actually planning to recruit that kid and hand this case over to him."
George laughed quietly.
"That's exactly why I don't want him joining the department."
"If he ever becomes my son-in-law, I'd rather not see my daughter become a widow before she's thirty."
Before Maud could reply, a nervous officer hurried over.
"Commissioner!"
George turned.
"What is it?"
"We just received another report."
The officer swallowed.
"There's been another massacre not far from here."
George's expression darkened.
"Who's the victim?"
"The leader of the JK gang," the officer replied.
"Linger Murray."
George and Maud exchanged a look.
Then they immediately headed for the next crime scene.
Meanwhile, back at the gym, Noah Vale stood in front of a mirror.
The damage from the sulfuric acid had completely healed overnight.
His skin looked flawless again.
Even his eyebrows and hair had fully regrown.
He flexed his fingers slightly.
Last night had been busy.
Destroying two gang headquarters in one night had forced him to work on a tight schedule.
The system predicted three hours for full regeneration, but after about two hours his face had already started recovering.
That meant he had to move quickly before the disguise disappeared.
Still—
It had worked perfectly.
No one would connect the mysterious scarred killer with Noah Vale.
Not when the killer's face looked like something out of a horror movie.
And if he eliminated enough crime bosses across New York, one more victim—Victor Kane—would simply blend into the pattern.
A personal revenge buried inside a citywide purge.
Perfect.
Noah was still admiring his reflection when the gym doors opened.
Smith walked in.
"You're up early," Smith said.
Then he grinned.
"The equipment you asked for arrived."
"It's outside."
Noah's eyes lit up.
"Show me."
They walked outside together.
A forklift sat near the entrance, carrying several massive iron blocks.
The most noticeable were two large cubes.
Each one measured roughly half a meter on each side.
Each weighed one ton.
At the top of each cube was a thick handle designed like an oversized kettlebell grip.
Noah had specifically ordered them from a metal foundry.
Because the design was extremely simple, the factory had been able to manufacture them overnight for a premium price.
These blocks were perfect for his current strength level.
He could lift one in each hand for training.
And if he grew stronger later, he could simply commission a larger hollow block and insert the existing weight inside.
Problem solved.
Noah crouched down and grabbed the handles.
The massive iron blocks lifted smoothly from the ground.
He smiled.
"Perfect."
Carrying the weights, Noah walked back into the gym.
Time to train.