When Peter arrived back at the Bugle, Jameson was talking to a man with dark skin and balding black hair. Jameson noticed Peter and jumped.

"Aha, Parker. You're back. And just in time as well. Come tomorrow, the deadline for the O'Hirn story will transpire."

"Thank you, sir," said Peter, walking by and eyeing Jameson with a smile, "I'll get to it right away."

"Good. Oh, and Parker, I'd like to meet somebody."

Peter turned back and replied "who, Mr. Jameson?"

"Parker, this is our new electrician Max Dillon."

"How you doing?" said Peter, lending a hand to shake Dillon's.

"How are you?" said Dillon, shaking his hand, "Jameson's told me enough. Is it true that you used to study at Empire State University?"

"Yes," said Peter, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Really? I've taken an offer for a job there as well. I've just moved to the city, you see."

"Cool. Do you like it here so far?"

"I'm not as accustomed to it as I was to Detroit but I'll come to like it better in time."

"Oh, you will don't worry about it. I'm having a college reunion there tomorrow night. Are you gonna be there?"

"Why, yes. I am. I'm always there, on my shift. What's your name again?"

"Peter Parker."

"Oh, right. The guy with the staff job. Anyway, you'll be seeing more of me around here. And I know a lot about electricity and…"

"Ok, ok, Parker. Cut the crap. And get back to work before I preordain what will happen to that raise you were competing against."

"Alright, I'm off," said Parker, "good meeting you, Max."

"You too, Peter. See you around."

"Neither of you will be seeing each other around if you don't get back to work, Dillon," Jameson snorted.

Without a word, Dillon walked off with his toolbox. Hobie walked up to Jameson and said "so what do you think of this guy, J. J.?"

"Hobie, I've never had a better janitor in eight years. And you tell that to Parker. That's how long his career's been."

"Sure thing, sir," said Hobie before walking off.

"Hmph," grunted Jameson before taking his pills out of his pocket. "What?" he gasped in frustration, "these weren't the ones I wanted!" He stormed off shouting "Miss Brant!"

The Oscorp company went out of business once Norman Osborn, his son Harry and his associate Otto Octavius were deceased. But the Oscorp tower still stood tall and strong. Facing the entrance to the tower was Aleksei Sytevich, followed by his men carrying the coffin into the tower after him. After the doors shut, they all walked up the stairs of the tower to the top floor where their associate was waiting.

"My friend," said Sytsevich, "we've got what you needed."

The associate turned around and revealed himself to be none other then FBI Agent Wheadon.

"Perfect, Mr. Sytsevich. Now our plan can finally go into action. Why don't you have your men place that thing right here on the stone table. I'll have my guys help them with that. Hill! Lefty!"

Two men walked out. One of them was the other guy who Peter met at the Bugle: Arnold Donovan.

"There is no man other then you and your men, Mr. Sytsevich that I could rely on in this city besides these two thugs of mine: Arnold Donovan and George Hill." Then Wheadon whispered to Systevich's ear, "you may wanna nickname Arnold over there for his left-handed abilities."

Both of them laughed before Wheadon continued on "you guys, why don't you give Mr. Sytsevich and his men a hand at hauling that thing on the stone table.

"Oh, we'll be capable of that," said Hill in a determined voice.

The two of them put their hands around the front of the coffin and together, they all bought it above the stone table against the window and gently placed it down before removing their fingers.

"Lefty, release the covers," order Wheadon.

Donovan pulled the cover off to show the Roman sarcophagi. Everyone gasped in shock and awe.

"Ipsofacto," added Wheadon, "this thing could make us lots of money for our final project. This is one elegant start to getting money off the richest of the city. Don't you think?"

"I think so," said a familiar voice.

Everyone looked to see Prowler, standing by the open window and above the sarcophagi.

"How did you find us?" grunted Sytsevich, "you're the most starkly superhero I've ever met! You know that?"

"I'm not as starkly as you think. Now hand over the coffin."

"Pfft, in mid-air?" scoffed Sytsevich.

"You bet," said Prowler, "now hand over the coffin."

"After you. Shoot him, guys."

They all started shooting at Prowler who rose into the room and struggled while the coffin flew into the air and out the window. The men then shot at him while he dived the window after the coffin. Prowler rose down past the coffin and the whole crowd as he managed to grab hold as it fell to the ground. He landed face-first on the ground and a few seconds, he rose up as the whole crowd on him and a two-finger whistle was let out.

At the Bugle, Jameson slapped down a photo of Prowler giving a "rock on" gesture.

"Despicable! Confound this purple-caped maniac!" he spluttered, "he's at it again. Next thing you know, Spider-Man's gonna be on the move with him!"

"Jonah, if I may point out to you…" said Robertson.

"You may not, Robbie!" Jameson rudely interrupted, "don't try and be a smart aleck in my presence! If anything, you're just an assistant! Unless you have nothing relevant to say, don't say anything!"

"I do have something to say, Jonah."

"And what would that be, Robbie?" said Jameson, relaxing a little bit, "bring me news and make my day."

"Jonah, this Prowler guy has returned to the city probably to help solve the O'Hirn case."

"Huh, so what are you getting at, Robbie?"

"Well, Jonah. If it weren't for him, the coffin wouldn't have been retrieved and who knows, Spider-Man might come back to assist him once more."

There was a short pause while Jameson looked at Robbie, confused and annoyed.

"Have you been to any wine tastings lately, Robbie?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, sir," replied Robbie, "not with this career I'm in."

"Have you been submitted for hallucination testing yet?"

"Um…no sir."

"I want you in with your doctor before the party at Empire State University tomorrow night! And don't you drink once until you're completely submitted! First off, Prowler was a sidekick and assisted Spider-Man, you loony! Second off, Spider-Man's a crook and WOULD NEVER SOLVE SOMETHING SO URGENT! THIRD OFF, ARE YOU AWARE THAT THE NYPD COULD'VE TRACKED DOWN THESE LUNATICS AND FOILED WHATEVER THEY WERE UP AGAINST? THEIR PRESENCE WOULD HAVE TRANSPIRED AROUND THE SAME TIME AS PROWLER'S!"

There was a ringing on the telephone. It was quite predictable who it was.

"WHAT? WHAT IS IT, BETTY? IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, I'M VERY BUSY RIGHT NOW!"

"Blood pressure, sir. Take your pills, oh, and drink plenty of water."

Jameson looked at Betty and sneered. Betty chuckled back as Jameson took his pills while gulping down a cup of water and placing it back on his desk, grinning sarcastically.

"ANYWAY, BACK TO BUSINESS…!"

The phone rang again. Jameson picked it up.

"THERE'S NOBODY HERE! THE BUGLE IS OUT OF BUSINESS BECAUSE OF TOO MANY FAKE PHOTOSHOOTS!"

"Again, blood pressure, sir. Your wife's on the other line asking about how you're doing?"

"TELL HER SHE'S NEVER MARRIED A BETTER MAN!" spluttered Jameson once more.

"Right away. Oh, and sir, I need to ask you something…"

"WHAT?"

There was a short pause as Jameson looked across at Betty who smiled and replied.

"Um, have you been to any wine tastings lately?"

Jameson give a slight glare and sneered. He could hear uncontrollable laughter on the other line from clients surrounding Betty's desk. Robbie sniggered with a stark smile before Jameson eyed him and glared. Robbie stopped smiling when he did this.

"Huh," huffed Jameson, looking at the crowd around Betty's desk, "the question is have they been to any wine tastings lately."

"Correct, sir…"

"Shut up. Robbie, I want every researcher in this department to figure everything else they know about Alex O'Hirn. Which means Parker and Leeds. I want the decision on whether whose end up with this raise at the end of the month to be preordain from the money that I've been making. Go check on them at once!"

"Y-y-yes, sir," stuttered Robbie before leaving the room.

Jameson sighed and put his feet over his desk, popping a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it before smoking it.

The whole crowd left Betty's desk. Betty was working away at her paperwork when Robbie came into view.

"Hey, Betty. Have you seen Peter or Ned around lately? Jonah wanted to make sure they were doing their job right."

"No, Robbie. Not since this morning. But if you check…"

"Bah bah bah bah bah bah," sang Leeds in a grove as he walked up to Betty's desk and slammed his hands down on it and saying in a grooved up manner, "whaddup, Betty girl?"

Betty chuckled.

"Um, hi, Mr. Leeds, I…"

"Oh, please, please, please. Call me Ned," he said, gulping a bit before continuing, "that's my codename. At least the name I go by. If you need anything, just call up Ned and I'll answer to that ring-a-ling-a-ling. You know?"

He chuckled and left his number on a post-it-note down on her desk, leaving Betty confused and speechless.

"Ah, okay," she chuckled, "so what's your catch, um…Ned?"

"Oh, what's my catch?" he chuckled in such an amused manner, "you don't get the clarity of what I ask? My catch, Betty, is you and I. You know, jazzing, groovin' it all up, on a roll up tempo. Ya get what I mean, right?"

Betty never felt so confused by somebody who she just met.

"Are you asking me out?" she asked curiously.

"Asking you out? On a date? Nah. Just saying, you and I; a little quality time; a stroll around the city along the pavement sidewalk; eyeing the array of sleek buildings and jazzy grooved-up night clubs that the city has to offer; the works. What do you say?"

Betty had a deciding but quick reply.

"Uh…no, Ned," she replied, smiling, "no, thank you. And no offense to you, I know you have feelings for me and all…"

"Pfft, feelings?" Leeds interrupted smoothly.

"…but in the end, my loyalty with all that belongs to Peter. He and I are in a tight relationship and we're great friends. I just met you and I've known Peter longer for about eight years. Maybe some other time."

There was a short pause before Leeds replied.

"Betty…um, Peter's not only engaged but he's married. Not against him or anything, just saying. Besides, it's June. Summertime, you know. Around this time the weather's kinda um…balmy?"

Betty chuckled in such amusement and jokingly said "would you get outta here, you stalker?"

"Okay, okay," said Leeds, calming her down from amusement, "but remember, if you need me, my number's on the desk?"

"Um, wait, Ned," said Robbie, holding him back.

"Uh, yes, Robbie."

"Jameson would like to see you in his office. Now."

"Oh, sure thing, Robbie," said Leeds, following Robbie to his office. He walked in and said "J.J., my man, what's up?"

"Ah, Leeds. I have one request for you."

"What would that be, J.J.?"

"Get back to work! Parker might beat you to getting that raise!"

"Okay, okay," chuckled Leeds, leaving the room.

Jameson looked at Robbie.

"Find Parker in his office and tell to be instantaneous with his research. What this O'Hirn guy is up against and where his dwelling is. I have the fragrance of Parker getting the raise already. And bring him here. I need to talk to him."

"Yes, sir," said Robbie before leaving the room.

Peter was in his office with the sound of the keyboard on his laptop throbbing away. He was staring benignly at his laptop. Robbie knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Peter.

Robbie opened the door and said "hello, Peter. Jameson would like to see you in his office right away."

"Okay," said Peter, rising up and walking out of the room with Robbie behind him.

"So what's this about?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," said Robbie, "hopefully it will be a titchy matter because you need to get the research done by tomorrow."

"I know that. Hopefully Jameson and I can have this conversation calmly for once."

"Me too, Peter," said Hobie as they walked towards Jameson's office.

Peter opened the door and said "good day, Mr. Jameson. So what can I do for you?"

Jameson, facing the window, turned around and eyed Peter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

"Parker, how much farther have progressed with research on the Alex O'Hirn case?"

"Quite far, Mr. Jameson. And not only that but I solved the case further with the NYPD today. Let's just say we were being congenial about the way were solving this crime…"

"That doesn't cut it, Parker," interrupted Jameson, "has my message to you from

eight years ago that this company needs news from our own media and not from other sources become unheeded?" If so, then you must be making a folly of what the requirement is for…"

"No, sir. I'm not. But I have a supposition that I would like to share with you."

"What would that be then, Parker?"

"Well, Mr. Jameson, both the bank robbery and the museum robbery are quite close to Oscorp and if it had gone out of business eight years ago, it would have been demolished by now, don't you think?"

Jameson was silent for a few seconds, looking at Peter contemptuously, before replying.

"You expect to agree with that 'supposition', Parker?"

"It's the one I'm sharing with you, sir. Oscorp is in the vicinity of both the museum and the bank."

"Well, I don't find this evidence very conclusive and it's also quite futile."

"I guess I'll have to agree with you, sir."

"Well, tell you what, I have a bad feeling about this Prowler guy returning. For all you know, Spider-Man might soon join him once more and his gestures from all those years back would still be quite poignant."

"Very poignant, sir."

"Anyway, back to business. I'm afraid I am soon going to set an ultimatum on who should get the raise at the end of this assignment: you or Leeds?"

Thoughts spontaneously occurred to Peter about what would happen if he became Spider-Man again and Jameson would find out his identity and fire him. Today he felt more worried and his thoughts were rudely interrupted.

"Parker? Parker?! PARKER!"

"Huh, what's going on?" said Peter, escaping the spontaneous feeling.

Jameson eyed him suspiciously before continuing what he had to say.

"You've worked with us longer then Leeds and this is why I am counting of you. Can I count on you to have this assignment completed before Leeds by tomorrow morning?"

"You can count on me, sir. I'm your man."

"All in good time then. Back to work please."

"Sure thing, Mr. Jameson,' said Peter before leaving the office and heading back to his.

Jameson sighed and looked at Robbie.

"You know, Robbie. Parker and Leeds are the only two people I can count on at the moment to help get this information. If neither of them succeed, we'll have no luck at all. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, Jonah. I do…"

"Oh, I thought you might. You're the only one in this bloody department that I could actually rely on. Now bring Leeds here. I need to have a word with him about the research and it's deadline for tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," intoned Robbie, leaving the office.

Leeds was in his office, his headsets in as he gazed at his laptop. Robbie knocked on the door.

"Hey, Ned."

"Yo. What's up, Robbie?"

"Um…Jameson would like to see in his office."

"I'm on my way, Robbie," said Leeds, rising up from his desk and leaving his office with Robbie closing the door behind them. A few moments later, they made to Jameson's office.

Robbie opened the door and said "he's here, Jonah."

"Ah, Mr. Leeds. Come right in. We need to talk."

"Sure thing, Mr. Jameson," said Leeds, calmly walking in as always and facing Jameson, "alright boss, what's up?"

Jameson looked a bit weird at Leeds before replying.

"Leeds, how far have you gotten with the research on the Alex O'Hirn crimes?"

"Quite far, sir…"

"Good, next thing you know these guys might be enter the foyer to this building. Have you got anything on that?"

"Um, no sir. Why would they want to do that?"

"I'm being sarcastic. We've got guards everywhere securing the building all over. Plus we've got our new janitor Max Dillon. Anyway, back to business. What else have you found out?"

"Um, nothing besides the bank and museum robbery, sir. It seems that this kind of news is quite…"

"Don't give up, Leeds! The main reason why you joined was to get news, not to slack off! Anyway, tell me the news."

"Uh, I don't know where to start, sir."

"I can probably tell you," said Ted Hoffman, peaking in through the door.

"Shut up. Get out," muttered Jameson.

Before Hoffman could leave, Jameson spoke up again.

"Wait, wait, wait, Hoffman. Don't go. I'm gonna need you."

"For what, sir?"

"I suspect you have a report on the Alex O'Hirn crimes. Do ya?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

"Well then. Come in here and tell me all the news. Where do you have to start?"

"Well, sir," said Hoffman, coming back in and standing before Jameson with Robbie and Leeds behind his desk, "these men seemed spent the predominant amount of their time being the masters of crime because of the kind of stuff that they stole. Not only did they steal nearly a tenth of this city's wealth but they've committed an infringement."

"An infringement? What kind of infringement? You're not really making any sense, Hoffman."

"Well, sir. President Obama said over the news this morning that he was sending out professional government agents to get the city back what they've been looted of."

"Hmm, well thank god Spider-Man isn't here in that embroidered black web, blue and red costume of his that humiliatingly resembles this country's emblem. I'd be quite reproachful of him returning to this city. I'd rather have him stay in his stupid old cavernous spider hole. So how would the President know how to select who he's sending out to catch these guys?"

"They've been chosen by the government themselves, sir. Their best mission of accomplishment was the retrieval of a line of murals, which were also taken from the Metropolitan Art Museum. The crooks in that robbery could've sent the whole museum in a mess with the theft that they made. Thank god those paintings stand there once more nowadays and thank god they didn't impoverish this whole city with the money they stole."

"Yeah, really," chuckled Leeds in agreement.

"Shut up and let the man speak," muttered Jameson sneeringly.

Leeds trembled from this remark.

"Anyway," continued Hoffman, "O'Hirn and his men seem to have taken part in a conspiracy with the crimes they committed. Whatever they've stolen and how they've done it must have a reason to its solution. They've obviously done it for a certain purpose. Now the NYPD and the U.S. Government are best to work together to find out what these guys are searching for. I think that could be arranged."

"I'll ask Parker about it tomorrow. He's good friends with the fellas down at the NYPD Department. Do you have anything else to add, Hoffman?"

"Yes, sir. I do. I have a hunch that these guys could be manufacturing a rocket to them up to space and look between its desolate interstellar background to see what they could find in space. It could be the next Sputnik for all I'm guessing?"

"Rockets? Space? The next Sputnik? Such a swiveling rocket ready to be pulverized into space? When was your last beer, Hoffman? These guys are criminals and what would criminals want to do with space? They invariably steal for a living for god's sake!"

"Well, sir. What I've told you is insofar as we are about to crack a big case here while writing this article. It seems that the crooks have rendered the coffin back to Prowler who arranged the coffin's return to the museum."

"Rendering, hmm, Hoffman? Look at the window at the crime that is going around. Is the window too opaque for you to see through? 'Cause you don't have a clue what you're talking about. First off, the only reason why they let Prowler take back the artifact was so that they could plan a better assault on the museum whenever they have the chance! What do you think it is instead? Just some capsule? Second off, you're unheeding the directions towards the real

topic of this discussion! Third off, WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THIS INFORMATION FROM ANYWAY?"

"The news channel. It's been all over the news this morning."

"And you believe it? Right before you expect me to believe what those idiots on television are spilling out to us."

"The reports seemed quite rudimentary, sir."

"Oh, the know-it-alls now, are they? Logicians, are they? And that's why you believed them. Why don't you find out what the O'Hirn crimes would have robbing a décor like the sarcophagi? Don't just spill out bullcrap that those nitwits are spilling from silo to silo and make yourself useful! MOVE IT!"

Hoffman walked out of the office in a rush while Robbie and Leeds walked to face Jameson who still sat behind his desk. Betty was startled from outside. The sound of Jameson's voice boomed like a seismic earthquake.

"The boss' daily pandemonium," sighed Betty jokingly to the guys over her desk.

Everyone laughed and laughed. Back in the office, Jameson looked at Leeds in his typical morose manner.

"What are you looking at, small brain? Don't you have a deadline to reach?"

"Oh, right," muttered Leeds, walking out of the office.

Jameson sighed once more and eyed Robbie.

"Well, well, well, Robbie. I've just talked to three people in a row today and none of their reports are conclusive. This city will always be in danger insofar as long as Spider-Man is around. What am I going to do with myself?"

"I don't know, sir. I…"

"Thought you wouldn't. Heck you've been in my office for the majority of the day so far. There must a hint of faith in you and you might be the only one I know in this building who has it. What do you think that proves?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't, Robbie. But I sure do."

After work, Peter walked out of the Bugle and across the street. It has been quite a big day for him and now he had to solve the mystery of the O'Hirn crimes. How was he going to crack the case without Spider-Man swooping in to save the day?