Frederick Foswell had the demeanor of an old school gangster; cool, collected and suave, but on the inside, he was antsy. He was taking an enormous risk in doing what he was doing. He wondered if it was even close to being a good idea. He was going to set up the Kingpin to be taken in. Foswell, or Mr. Big as the criminal underworld called him, had been planning this for years ever since Wilson Fisk's colossal ass showed up in New York City and stripped him of all the power he had in the streets. He hired every piece of hood trash that would bow down and worship his money, even motherfuckers from Mr. Big's own hood left him to work with Fisk. Eventually, Mr. Big had settled for being a sort of lieutenant for Fisk. He gained a little less money than he normally did, but the payments were more regular and Mr. Big could trust them to come in. Everything was going fine until Fisk decided to swoop in and take Big's woman.

If there was one thing Mr. Big would not stand for, it was another man stealing his woman and not just any woman. He had known her since he was nothing more than a young street hustler in Brooklyn, turning crack rock into profit. She was the one that had hooked him and stayed with him through his ascension into power and control and just like that, she had been taken from him by a fat fuck with money. That's all Fisk had. Money. He had no creed, no reputation. Just his group of pussy Enforcers and dollar bills on top of dollar bills. And he had connections. Violent connections.

Mr. Big knew all about the assassination plot to kill the man known as John Hardy. He knew that Kingpin had spent a ridiculous amount of money in order to contact the Japanese organization known as The Hand so that he could have Hardy silenced permanently. Mr. Big also knew that like the big bastard he was, Fisk was sloppy and couldn't cover his tracks worth a shit. He had people that made things disappear. He didn't know how he had even lasted as long as he did. Mr. Big realized that most big boss didn't have time to cover their tracks and had cleaners but he knew that in order to be effective in this line of work, you had to be a master of all trades. And that was how he felt about Fisk. He was a phony. He didn't deserve to run New York. This city was his and he would get it back by any means necessary...

Parker Residence, Forest Hill, Queens

Peter Parker climbed through the window in his room, taking in a sigh of relief as his body hit the bed and the heat from the house began to seal into his skin and bones. After he felt fully heated, Peter began to strip his costume off piece by piece. After being an enormous creep and stalking Ben Urich to his home and talking to him about the plan to remove the Kingpin from power, Peter felt more relaxed. His mind felt freer knowing that he had a plan of action going in and if it all worked out, there would be positives on all fronts.

As he pulled a t-shirt over his head, Peter remembered that he had more domestic disputes to settle. Earlier, his girlfriend had caught him in the middle of a suspicious conversation with an equally suspicious and flirtatious female that had given his a new level of complications. Peter couldn't deny that he had grown fond of Felicia over the past few days. She had a perplexing air about her. Peter could never tell when she was playing a role or being genuine. It bugged him but intrigued him at the same time. He wanted to know the real her but sometimes he wasn't sure if he'd like what came out.

Regardless of how he felt about Felicia, there was no doubt in Peter's mind that Mary Jane was right for him. Their relationship had been such a fantasy for the past few months that Peter had forgotten that these kind of things came with trials and tribulations. And Peter also knew the kind of girl that he was with. Mary Jane was as loyal a friend as anyone could find. When Peter was an asthmatic nerd struggling to run a single lap around the gym, she had still been there for him. When everybody teased him and bullied him for dressing different and being an outcast, Mary Jane was there. When his aunt and uncle didn't or couldn't understand, Mary Jane was there. For that alone, Peter loved her more than he felt his heart could bear. And he had to tell her that.

Impulsively, Peter opened the window to his room and jumped through. With a few quick leaps, Peter had crossed over to where MJ stayed with her aunt and climbed up the side of the house to her window. Her room was dark but Peter could make out her figure laying in bed, her body rising and falling with every breath she took. It pained Peter to wake her, especially this late at night. But, he had to.

Peter tapped at MJ's window lightly and when she didn't move, he tapped more urgently until finally, his girlfriend turned over and saw him. Peter didn't know what at all to expect from her. Earlier, she had been so angry with him that she vanished. Peter wondered if the same anger was still there and if he should fear for his life. Thankfully, Mary Jane rose from her bed, with wrapped hair and wearing an Elmo t-shirt and boxers, and walked over to open the window. Peter recognized the boxers as his and smirked as he remembered how she came to possess them. Tongue tricks.

"Hey." Peter said after the window had opened. Mary Jane licked her lips and rubbed her arms.

"Hey. Come in, it's cold out." she said. Peter obliged and slinked through the window and sat on the side of MJ's bed. She stood over him with her arms folded and Peter sighed and dipped his head.

"Mary...I'm sorry. I really am." Peter said. Mary Jane didn't move.

"So what's this 'she's going to start getting suspicious' and 'let's keep our interactions a secret'? And who is this Felicia chick?" Mary Jane asked. Peter nodded and started to explain.

"Well, Felicia is a girl I met while I was out patrolling near Gravesend Bay. She was in costume fighting these thugs who were bringing in drug imports. Like giant crates full of stuff. She told me about her plans to take down the main crime boss in New York's criminal underworld. Then, I come to find out that she's actually a student at our school. So we figure out who we both are and after that, I've been trying to reduce our interactions to our costumes and my our conversations crime related." Peter said. Mary Jane seemed to relax a little bit as Peter told her his side. With a jolt of stupidity, Peter realized that he hadn't told Mary about any of his Spider-Man activities the past week. Maybe she felt left out.

"Anything else I need to know?" Mary Jane asked. Peter smiled in the darkness and rubbed his chin.

"Yeah, two things. Tomorrow night after school, I'm going to be attempting take Fisk out and get my name put in a more positive light at the same time. And two...I love you, Mary Jane." Peter said, with enough conviction to make his heart pound. Mary Jane's arms were still folded and she appeared to be pouting in a corner like a brat. Peter smirked and shot a web at her and pulled her over towards him. Mary Jane fell on top of Peter. Mary Jane giggled and Peter smiled back at her and tracked his fingers down her side, tickling her and rolling over until he was on top of her and her giggling faded into silence as their eyes locked together. "You finished pouting now, Ms. Watson?" Mary Jane nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Parker. And by the way...I love you, too. I-I just don't want to lose you to anyone or anything." Mary Jane said. Peter nodded understandably.

"I know, baby. I don't want to lose you, either. Nothing is going to separate us. I won't let it." Peter said. Mary Jane's hazel eyes looked past Peter's own eyes and deeper within his soul. He was almost lost for words.

"Promise?" she said in the soft, almost baby voice that got her whatever she wanted from Peter. But Peter never took promises lightly. He knew that his word was bond.

"I promise. I'll die defending you." Peter said. Mary Jane smiled and her soft lips met Peter's. Peter couldn't remember the last time that Mary Jane had kissed him so fervently. Her hands ran through his hair and rubbed down his neck and back. Peter felt Mary Jane move beneath him and he followed her until he was between her legs. All memories or knowledge of Felicia Hardy faded from Peter's mind. He was exactly where he wanted to be right now. Mary Jane's lips hit Peter's neck and he felt a rush travel down his spine and to his pants. Things were happening fast and Peter's mind was beginning to blank. He was relying on all of his senses now. He tasted the vanilla on Mary Jane's skin. He smelled the shampoo she used earlier. He heard her soft, urgent moans as his lips guided themselves down her neck. He felt her soft skin in his hands. He saw the glimmering haze in her eyes as they locked with Peter's again. Wherever she was, she wasn't on Earth.

"Sleep here, tonight..." Mary Jane cooed. Peter could hear the desperation in her voice. There was no way he'd refuse her.

"Ok..." Peter said. As Mary Jane kissed him and rolled on top of him, Peter's eyes widened. She was taking her t-shirt off. If he made it through this night, he had only one thought.

If Aunt Mae finds out, she'll kill me.

-/-

New Midtown High School, Next Day

The massive Cheshire Grin on Peter's face would not leave. Nothing would deter it, not even a pop quiz from Mr. Warren that Peter naturally aced. Everyone in school even noticed that Peter had been surprisingly jovial as he walked through school and when he was with Mary Jane, Peter couldn't help but feel good. It was a wondrous feeling to hold hands with the most beautiful girl in school and know that she loved him as much he loved her. Peter was on a next level high. Flash had definitely noticed. While Peter was at his locker, the jock approached with a half smirk.

"So Mary Jane finally let you hit, huh?" Flash said softly. Peter ignored him and grabbed the books he needed before walking away. Flash, taken aback from being ignored, followed Peter through the hall. "Hey, Peter...I asked you a question." Peter dug his heels into the floor as he stopped in his tracks and whirled around to face Flash. But instead of being angry, Peter was puzzled. Did he hear what he thought he heard?

"D-did you just call me 'Peter'?" he asked. Flash slowly nodded his head.

"Yeah, that's your name, right?" he said. Peter shook his head in agreement.

"So...no 'Puny Parker', 'dicknugget', 'fuckboy' or any other vapid nicknames today?" Peter asked. Flash shook his head, probably more out of confusion over the word "vapid" than anything else but he continued the conversation.

"No, nothing like that. Look, I just wanted to conversate with you for a bit." Converse. Peter autocorrected in his mind. Peter looked at his watch. His class was right down the hall and he had a couple minutes to spare. Besides, how often could someone say they got to talk to a defrosted Neanderthal in New York?

"Alright. What's this about?" Peter said. Flash looked up as if searching for what to say but it looked like his brain failed him. He looked back at Peter and just spoke.

"I want to talk to Felicia." Flash said, simply. Peter felt like he should've been slightly insulted but then again, it was understandable to him. Ever since Felicia Hardy had joined the Midtown Marauder ranks, every male student in the school was almost literally drooling over her. It didn't make it any better that she seemed to have eyes for only Peter. He had his costumed alter ego to thank for that.

"Oh, really?" Peter asked. Then, Peter stopped. "Wait...aren't you with Liz?" Peter asked. Flash scoffed.

"Fuck outta here. Liz is a hoe. At least five players on the team fucked her more than once. I'm not trying to be seen with that, but Felicia..." Flash said. Peter nodded his understanding. Liz Allan had been passed around the football team like a blunt during a cypher but according to what Peter knew, that was mostly Flash's fault. He introduced her to the team and helped get her made the "manager", the person that spent most of their free time with the team. The hell did he think was going to happen?

"So why do you need my help, Mr. Midtown? You're Flash Thompson. Don't you just flex a muscle and the girls follow you home?" Peter said, adding only the slightest touches of sarcasm and disdain in his mouth. Flash didn't seem to notice.

"Well, yeah, mostly." he shrugged. "But those girls are dumb. I want Felicia. She's really beautiful and has those really pretty eyes and body." Flash said, smiling into the air. Peter nodded.

"Yeah...she also has a succubus thing going on." Peter said. Flash looked down at him, perplexed.

"She sucked a what?" he asked. Peter burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. Flash laughed too, although he probably didn't realize that Peter was laughing at him and nowhere near with him. Nonetheless, Peter carried on the conversation.

"So you want pointers on how to get her attention?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, like, to get her to like me, y'know?" Flash said. Peter nodded.

"Ok, well, I'll pick her brain and see what I'll get. I'll be sure to let you know what's up." Peter said. Flash reached out his hand for Peter to dap him and reluctantly, Peter followed through.

"My man." Flash said with a smile. His smile then faded. "Don't mention this to anyone, alright?" Flash said.

"Wouldn't dare." Peter replied. With that, Peter turned on heels and headed for his English class. Slipping in before the bell, Peter sat in the front of the classroom and listened as Mr. Maguire began to talk. Peter daydreamed for a bit until a particular word caught his interest. Mr. Maguire was talking about hubris.

"What I want you all to understand is that hubris could affect any of us. Hubris is arrogance, insolence, contempt, the feeling that you are virtually untouchable. That is a sense of pride. I know they don't teach anything Bible related here but I want you to put this in your notes. 1 Corinthians 10:12 says 'If you think you are standing strong, be careful not to fall.'. Basically, it is saying that pride comes before the fall. So, I want you all to watch out for hubris, because after that comes the..." Mr. Maguire said. Peter listened intently and finished his teacher's sentence.

The collapse.

-/-

Manhattan, New York, Few Hours Later

A group of thugs held a man at gunpoint in a dead end alleyway. Back against the wall, the man quivered with his hands raised into the air as the men looked all over him for his wallet. When they had taken what they wanted, they tried to run back up the alleyway, but to their surprise, it had been blocked off by a wall of webbing. Behind them, a red and blue figure stood in between them and the man they robbed. Peter smirked underneath his mask.

"You know, it's been a while since I've had to fight some street thugs." Spidey said. He shot a ball of webbing into the gunman's hand, wrapping his firearm in a cocoon-like package and connecting it to the web wall. As if they were a unified hive mind, the men rushed forward as a single unit, sending a barrage of punches, kicks and blunt objects at Spider-Man's direction. "Now this is definitely new behavior for the New York thug." Spider-Man said as he flipped off the shoulders of one man and grabbed the bat of the next attack. "Usually, you attack one by one until there's the last guy left that thinks he's going to make a difference, but now, you've adapted." Spider-Man grabbed two men with his web and swung them around with his web into a wall. He bounced from one wall to the next, his head vibrating slightly as he saw a broken bottle flying towards him. Spidey elegantly dodged before leaping down on top of the bottle thrower and punching him out. Finally, there was one man left.

"Shit." he muttered softly. Spider-Man nodded.

"Yep, seems like you're standing in a pretty deep pile of it. If you want to leave, I'll let you. Hell, I'll even give you a free shot at me if you want." Spider-Man said. The crook was happy to oblige him and rushed forward with a pocket knife. Spider-Man jabbed forward and the man's legs crumbled beneath him. "And that should take care of that." Spidey said. The man who lost his wallet cautiously walked forward.

"G-gee, thanks. You don't seem as bad as the Bugle says." the man. Spider-Man handed him back his wallet. Now. Spidey heard the snapping of his camera above him and underneath his mask, smirked.

"Nope, I'm not bad at all. In fact, I'm your friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man. Need a lift?" Spidey asked as he tore through the webbing wall. The man shook his head and ran through the hole. After he had gone, Spider-Man leapt up to grab his camera. He looked through the different shots and nodded approvingly. He'd like to see Jameson put a negative spin on this.

-/-

Daily Bugle

"Why can't anybody see that he clearly set this attack up so that he could look like a hero?!" Jameson shouted around the room. Inside, Ms. Brant, Peter and an older black man named Joseph Robertson, all stared at Jameson like he had twelve heads.

"What the hell do you mean 'set this attack up'? Spider-Man saved this man and gave him back his wallet. Peter just told you what happened." Robertson said. Jameson scoffed and gave a contemptuous wave towards Peter.

"Ah, that NYMM sympathizer will say anything to make this criminal look like some kind of saint." Jameson retorted. Robertson shook his head.

"Jonah, you're kidding me." he said.

"And what in the world is NYMM?" Betty asked.

"New York's Masked Menace." Jameson said, matter-of-factly. Betty laughed.

"Jonah, you know that's a ridiculous name." she said with a snicker. Jameson pounded his fist on the table, causing his coffee mug to spill over.

"It is not!" the coffee dripped down on his pants. "Son of a bitch...goddamn it. Just bought these slacks." he murmured as he looked down at himself and the mess he'd made. Jameson turned his steely blue eyes back up the the three in the room. Peter tried desperately to suppress his laughter. Jameson scowled. "I won't deny that this a good shot. Has nice composition and the rest of that artsy shit that backwater folks in SoHo like but there is an intriguing story behind this. We're going to delve into the criminal motivations behind NYMM and discover why he does what he does." Jameson said. Peter narrowed his eyes and face palmed.

"He does what he does to save people and keep them safe on the streets. He's helping the city. Sure, he could probably do more, but he's trying to help." Peter said, finally speaking up. Jameson laughed.

"Oh, please, Perry."

"Peter."

"Your last name is Peter?"

"No, Parker. My name is Peter Parker."

"Oh, right. Yeah. Anyway, Parker, all you did is take pictures. Leave it to the artist behind the Bugle to craft the engrossing tale of Spider-Man's fall into darkness." Jameson said, reaching for his coffee mug only to remember that it was empty. Sighing, he looked over to Betty. "Ms. Brant, after you give Parker his check, could you...?" Jameson said. Betty picked up the mug and walked out with the rest of the group. Peter followed Betty to he desk, while Robertson trailed behind him.

"Sometimes, I feel like Jonah is absolutely delusional." he said with a shake of his head. "I've never seen someone so wrong believe that he was right." Robertson said. Peter shrugged.

"Hitler thought he was right." he said. Betty nodded.

"And Jameson does have that toothbrush mustache thing..." she said. Peter laughed lightly.

"And I can't help but feeling that he's just a teeny bit racist. He could be Hitler's lost lovechild that was brought to America with hopes that he'd grow up to be an upstanding citizen of America, but turned out to a complete corporate dick with no respect for heroes." Peter said. Robertson chuckled.

"Now that would make headlines." he said.

"Hitler's Secret Lovechild Found. Story at eleven." Peter replied, glancing over into Jameson's office to see him looking at the pictures Peter had taken. It looked like he was working his absolute hardest to try and concoct a tale that would make any bit of sense when the story itself was obvious. Peter was disheartened that people actually fed into his bullshit. But if everything tonight went down according to plan, Peter wouldn't have to worry about his name being defamed by Jameson. He'd have all the evidence he needed to the contrary stored onto his camera.

"Anyway, Peter. Let me give you your check. Jameson didn't specify so technically, I can give you whatever I want..." Betty said.

"Hundred thousand?" Peter asked.

"Within reason. You're still just a freelancer." Betty finished with a smile. Peter sighed.

"Alright, alright. Uh, $300?" Peter said. Betty shrugged.

"That's a little steep." Betty said.

"You heard Jameson. He said it had great composition and was artsy." Peter answered. Betty smiled and nodded.

"He did, indeed. Alright, Mr. Parker. Here you go." Betty said. Peter took his check and grinned from ear to ear.

"Thank you."

"Don't spend it all at one place, kiddo. And if you do, make sure it's a very nice place." Betty said. Peter nodded and turned to walk away, almost bumping into someone. When he looked up, he saw that it was Ben Urich, the man in black. Urich's face was surprisingly warm.

"Hey, Mr. Urich." Peter greeted him. "You going to see Jameson today? He's in a pretty docile mood." Urich shook his head.

"No, Peter, as a matter of fact, I was hoping I could catch you before you leave." Urich said. Peter lowered his eyebrows. What did Urich want to see him for?

"Oh? Why is that?" Peter asked Urich sat down at his desk and kicked his feet up.

"I have some questions to ask. You take pictures of Spider-Man that no one seems to be able to capture. It's like he seems to prefer being photographed by you." Urich said. Peter's heart pounded but he forced himself to calm down. It felt like Urich was trying to bait him.

"Well, I guess he considers me to be his one true believer and not a media clown like everyone else." Peter said. Urich nodded.

"I have to admit that your shots are perfectly angled. Sometimes, it's like Spider-Man poses for you. It's very interesting." Ben said.

"Thanks..." Peter replied. He didn't know where Urich was going with his statements but Peter was growing more and more nervous as the reporter seemed to strategically examining him. Suddenly, he spoke.

"What do you know about the Kingpin?" Peter froze.

"Uh, nothing really. Some kids at school talk about it and I hear rumors about who he might be. Some of them have relatives in gangs that talk, I guess." Peter said. Urich rubbed his goatee and smiled.

"Ok, Mr. Parker. Hey, if you happen to see Spider-Man after you leave, make sure to remind him about 'Big'." Urich said. Peter started to nod with understanding but stopped himself.

"Big?" he asked. Urich dipped his head.

"He'll know what I mean." Ben said. Peter waved to Urich as he walked away. In fact, he did know exactly what Urich meant. He couldn't possibly forget. Tonight was the night that he finally came face to face and took down the Kingpin.

Fisk Industries, 12:30 AM

Foswell looked up at the sky as it become mottled by the snowflakes that tumbled to the ground. He breathed out a thin white vapor as for the first time during the night, he felt the chill in the air. He fixed his jacket and shirt. Mr. Big had never in his life been wired. Even though it wasn't by the cops, Foswell felt like he was playing the role of a rat. He hated rats more than he hated fraudulent "gangsters". It was ironic to him that actually had to stoop lower than his competition in order to get what he wanted. Straightening his tie, Foswell inhaled and exhaled. Then, he entered Fisk's building.

The lobby was illustrious and effectively gave the impression that whatever Fisk was doing to amass such a fortune was definitely legal. The large Fisk Industries sign with the "great" Wilson Fisk holding the Earth in hands was actually rather impressive. If Fisk had been a true businessman, this sign alone would've given him an enormous presence. Even Tony Stark didn't have his beside his business sign. Foswell scoffed to himself and approached the front desk. Fisk's secretary, a beautiful young woman with platinum blonde hair and green eyes sat behind the desk, typing and on a bluetooth talking to someone.

"Hey, sweetheart." Foswell said as he leaned over the barrier between. The young woman looked up.

"Hold on." she said to the person on the phone. "Welcome to Fisk Industries. Mr. Fisk isn't currently taking visitors at this time." she cooed.

"Well, I set up an appointment with Mr. Fisk for this time earlier. Uh, the name's Big. Mr. Big." Foswell said. The woman stared at him for a moment and then mouthed "oh".

"You're absolutely right. Mr. Fisk is waiting for you upstairs in his office. I'm sorry, Mr. Big." the secretary said. Foswell dipped his head.

"Don't worry about it, ma." he said as he strolled past her towards the elevator. As it closed, he took in a deep breath. It was time.

-/-

Ben Urich watched with binoculars from a building across from Fisk's headquarters with his recording equipment ready to receive Fisk's confession. He had no idea where Spider-Man was, but the mission had to carry on without him. If all else failed, at least he would have recorded Fisk murdering someone on tape. He could hear Foswell breathing heavily in the elevator, his breaths echoing in the large square.

"Foswell, you alright?" Urich asked, although he honestly didn't care. He'd be damned if Foswell was spooked and couldn't go through with it.

"Of course." Foswell answered from his hidden headpiece. "I'm straight." Urich nodded.

"Good, good. Just remember what I told you. Be natural. I know you're not used to doing this but just relax and pretend I'm not listening. Make sure that Fisk tells you everything he knows. I need this for evidence against him." Urich said.

"I know, goddamn it. You've been saying this shit the whole time. I understand. I got this. Just make sure you pay attention and get all you need, 'cause after this, I doing this shit no more." Foswell said. Urich heard Foswell's breathing stop. "I'm at his office. Listen." he said. Urich heard Foswell's shoes click against the floor as he walked towards Fisk.

"Foswell..." Fisk said. Urich could hear the silky tone in Fisk's voice. It made him disgusted.

"Fisk. How are ya? Looking well fed." Foswell replied coolly. His comment elicited a chuckle from the Kingpin, however, Urich couldn't tell if it was a scornful laugh or genuine.

"You're a funny man, Foswell. A very funny man." Fisk said. Urich heard Foswell's deep breath.

"I got a question, Fisk." he said.

"What?"

"The Cat? John Hardy...do you think that this kitty girl that's been fucking with your imports has anything to do with him?" Foswell asked.

"Who?" Fisk asked. Foswell spoke up louder, letting out an agitated sigh.

"The fucking Cat Burglar. John Hardy. Got whacked seven years ago. You think this Black Cat chick is 'cause of him?" There was an awkward pause. Urich watched through his binoculars and saw that Fisk was rising out of his chair and coming from behind him desk. What the hell was going on?

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Fisk said, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. Foswell wasn't afraid. In fact, Fisk's questions emboldened him.

"You know what? Yeah, I do. You're a crime boss with no cred. Just money. Never even caught a body in your fucking life but you run New York 'cause you've paid off everybody in power that you could reach in this city. You're claiming to be untouchable, but you're not." Foswell spat. Urich saw Fisk move closer until he loomed over Foswell.

"You know what, Foswell? You're right. I came to New York City with nothing but money. Not a reputation. No amount of 'cred'. Just money. You know why? Because everything I've done has been cleaned away. You can't have a reputation if everything has been swept under a rug. That's the thing about paying off commissioners, judges, and politicians. They help you keep your record clean. That's what power is. The fact that I could do this and get off scot free." Fisk said. Urich heard Foswell gasp for air as Fisk's enormous hands wrapped around his throat and lifted him up into the air. He was strangling him to death. But Urich refused to move. If he could get this on video, it'd be all the evidence he needed. He just needed Fisk to kill Foswell. The former crime boss' agonized cries rang out in Urich's ears.

Come on, you son of a bitch... Urich thought. A red and blue blur passed by his binoculars and sped down towards Fisk's office, aiming for his window. Urich's mouth dropped as he realized who it was. Spider-Man...

-/-

Spider-Man crashed through Fisk's window, kicking him in the head and flinging him into the wall behind him. The man known as Mr. Big dropped to the ground and looked up at him. "You good?" Spider-Man asked. Mr. Big coughed and pressed himself against the wall. Spidey shook his head. he would worry about him later. Right now, his primary target was Fisk. The enormous man rose to his feet and rubbed his head and his sharp glare pierced Spider-Man's mask.

"You." Fisk growled as he ran toward Spider-Man. He was much faster than Spidey expected and the arachnid themed hero rolled to the side. Fisk was quick and grabbed Spider-Man's leg and flung him into the ground and sat on his chest. "You've been a thorn in my ass for too long, Spider-Man." Spidey gagged.

"Jesus, I feel bad for the thorn." Fisk punched Spider-Man as hard as he could and if Peter had been a normal human, the punch may have knocked him out. The most it did now was annoy him. Fisk continued to punch as he roared.

"I've had enough of you heroes thinking you can do anything to stop me! I am Wilson fuckin' Fisk! I'll kill anyone who gets in my way and no one will stop me. John Hardy learned that the hard way and now that lesson will be given to you." Fisk yelled as he grabbed for Spidey's mask. That was all he was waiting for. With the information he had just gathered, Spidey was free to fight seriously. He lifted Fisk up off of him and over his head and tossed him to the side. Fisk landed with a thud and Spider-Man webbed his hands and feet down. But he didn't follow up. Fisk strained to free himself and spat at Spider-Man. "This won't hold me for long, you red and blue bastard!" Spider-Man folded his arms.

"It won't need to." he replied. "There's someone that I want you to meet." Spider-Man said. Spidey went over to Fisk's office door and opened it. Sauntering through was Felicia Hardy. Felicia never looked at Spidey as she came in. Instead, her eyes locked onto Fisk as she approached him. Spider-Man followed her from a distance and stood watch. He glanced over at Mr. Big to make sure he wasn't trying to make a move. He didn't, but he was staring intently at Felicia and Fisk.

"Who the hell are you?" Fisk growled. Felicia's voice was cool as ice.

"My name is Felicia Hardy and seven years ago, you killed my father." Felicia leapt into the air and when she came down, she drove her knees into the side of his head. Fisk wasn't moving but the way his stomach rose and fell, Spidey could tell that Felicia hadn't killed him. Felicia walked over towards him, tears in her eyes and fell into his arms. Spidey hugged her tightly.

"It's over."

Parker Residence, Forest Hills, Queens, hours later

"Breaking news on this Saturday morning. Business mogul Wilson Fisk was brought into custody this morning after allegedly assaulting and attempting to murder Frederick Foswell, a former known crime boss. Fisk has also been linked to several illegal drug trade operations and murder investigations stretching across the United States from Los Angeles all the way to New York. A video that recorded the confrontation between Fisk and Foswell was brought into police headquarters and in it, Fisk confessed to bribing city officials and police officers in our city as well as others. A highlight of the video, however, was Spider-Man. The mysterious vigilante, deemed New York's Masked Menace, crashed into Fisk's office and prevented him from killing Foswell, effectively saving his life. We'll update you as we get more information on this story but as of right now, Wilson Fisk is behind bars."

Peter sipped on his orange juice as he sat back on the couch and watched the news. Aunt Mae walked over and placed two plates of eggs, bacon, sausage and pancakes in front of them and sat beside Peter. She sighed and looked over at Peter.

"Thanks, Aunt Mae." Peter said. Aunt Mae nodded and looked at the TV. She then shook her head.

"It's a shame people can get away with murder for so long that they think they can just go on and do whatever they please." Aunt Mae said. Peter nodded. "Thank God for people like Spider-Man. I think Uncle Ben would've liked him. He seems to adhere to the Parker mantra of 'With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility'." Aunt Mae said. Peter smiled and looked at the TV.

"You know what, Aunt Mae, I think he does too." Peter said.

-/-

Unknown Location

"Yeah, yeah. I seen that shit. Calling the whole fiasco 'The Collapse of Kingpin Empire'." a voice said in the darkness. There was a pause and the voice spoke again. "No, no need to worry. With Fisk's fat ass out of view, the underworld throne is ours." the voice said.

Next, Gang Wars, Part 1...