"So, let's be blunt, Toby. Do you take the job or not?"
"If you pass, I'm putting this on the dark web. I could probably skim half the commission as a finder's fee if I go public~"
Toby ignored Kingpin's teasing. He weighed the risks against a $50 million payout plus the "Stark Bonus." It was worth the flight.
"I'll take it. Sort out the local passport and tickets for me. I'll also need an off-roader and supplies waiting in-country. Deduct the costs from our next job."
Kingpin's smile was audible. "Consider it done. But don't talk about money between friends, Toby—it hurts my feelings. Just tell me when you're leaving."
"And a word of advice," Fisk added, his tone shifting. "Stark has been missing for two months. The odds of him being alive are dropping by the hour. The later you leave, the less likely you are to get paid."
Toby nodded. He knew the movies, so he knew Tony was likely alive, but he wasn't about to trust "plot armor" when $50 million was on the line. He was a butterfly in this timeline; his very existence could have already nudged Tony toward a shallow grave in a cave.
"Tomorrow morning. Book the earliest flight."
"Perfect. I'll have someone drop the documents at your place at dawn."
They exchanged a few pleasantries before hanging up. Fisk was satisfied—he'd secured his top "contractor" for an impossible job, further cementing the reliability of the Fisk Empire while keeping Toby in his pocket.
Back at the hotel, Gwen finally woke up as evening approached. She looked like she'd been through a war zone—exhausted and "low on HP." Since it was Sunday and she had school the next day, Toby decided against a second round. He didn't want the valedictorian missing class because she couldn't walk.
After a quiet dinner, Toby drove her home. He mentioned he had to go out of town for "business" for a while. Gwen, true to her nature, didn't pry. She knew Toby had a shadow life, and she trusted him enough to simply tell him to stay safe. It was why Toby liked her—she was one of the few women in this chaotic world who was sane, loyal, and composed.
When Toby got back to the Parker house, Ben and May gave him the usual "Oh, you're back?" look. He told them about the business trip, and since he did this a few times a year, they didn't suspect a thing.
Toby headed to the basement and slipped into the hidden lab. Peter was there, slumped in a chair, watching Dr. Connors who was tied to a table leg.
Peter looked up, relieved. "Toby! Thank God. I think something's wrong with the Doctor. He's human now, but his head... he's saying some really extreme things."
Toby nodded. "I've got it from here. Go get some sleep."
Peter, who hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, didn't argue. He practically staggered out of the room.
Toby turned his attention to Dr. Connors. Even in human form, the man had a manic glint in his eyes. The serum had left a "residue"—a second, darker personality similar to the Green Goblin.
"Soft way or hard way, Doctor?" Toby asked coldly.
Connors let out a raspy, jagged laugh. "Toby Parker. I should have known. Richard's son and nephew... you were never going to be ordinary. You and Peter are like me. We are the evolved. The apex."
Toby crossed his arms. "And?"
"And we shouldn't be enemies! We should be partners!" Connors' voice rose in pitch, his eyes wide. "Look at humanity, Toby. They are fragile. A single virus, a minor injury, and they are crippled or dead. The 'masters' of this planet shouldn't be this weak!"
"They should be perfect. Like us."
"Think about it! If everyone had Peter's agility, your strength, and my regeneration, we would truly be gods. I just need a sample of your blood. With that and Oscorp's Ganali Device—a dispersal unit that can cover the entire city in seconds—we could trigger a mass evolution."
"One month for the city. One year for the world. We turn the entire human race into perfect biological beings. That is my masterpiece, Toby!"