Chapter 1-4

The Daily Bugle

"Am I the only one reading this correctly?" J. Jonah Jameson asked with a cigar in his mouth and the morning edition in his hand. He puts the newspaper down. "Imposters, copycats, unbelievable." He took his cigar out. "What is wrong with these people nowadays?"

Robbie Robertson sighed. "I wish I could answer that question for you, Jonah, but I can't. What I can say is that we sold out several printings of this spider imposter."

"Ha." Jameson put his cigar back in his mouth. "Even when the Daily Bugle switched to airing its news on live TV, we still sell out every newspaper successfully. That, my dear friend, is the success of the press." He laughs heartily and removes his cigar. "But… we're going to have to do something about this spider imposter." He leans back in his chair. "I'm spitballing here, Robbie, but how about this: 'Spider-Man Hires Crook to Dress Up As Him."

"I don't think that is something Spider-Man would do. I mean, yeah, he's a killer but I don't think he would work with his enemies."

"Then what do you say about that Silk character, huh?" Jameson leaned back in his chair. "You saw those photos Eddie got for us? Spider-Man and Silk were swinging side-by-side after fleeing from a crime scene. And the last time I checked, Silk and Spider-Man fought each other last Christmas so what's up with that? What, did he suddenly develop a conscience? A change of heart." He puts his feet up. "Men like Spider-Man don't have hearts; it's why they wear those atrocious masks on their faces."

Ned Leeds, who was in the room, stepped into Jameson's view. "Maybe they're sick."

"They are sick, sick in the head, Leeds."

"Y-yeah, that's what I meant and-"

"What are you doing in here anyway?"

"Uh… you said you needed me."

Jameson nodded. "Don't put words in my mouth, Leeds."

"I wasn't-"

"Get outta here."

"Yes sir." Ned bowed out of the room.

Jameson stood up and turned to the window behind him. "This spider imposter, we gotta do something about him. We glorify someone like him, it only inspires the masses. As much I enjoy seeing the public inspired by my newspaper, I have standards." He puts his hand on the window. "How about this for a headline? 'Spider-Man Inspires Menace to Kill'." He smiled. "Yeah, that'll work. That will be our page one."

Robbie nodded. "I'll take care of it."

"Good. And when you find Eddie, tell him to get a good picture of the imposter. That blob I saw on the Daily Globe, heh, the Daily Bugle demands only high-quality pictures."

Jameson's phone rang. He turned on the speaker and listened to Betty Brant's voice coming through.

"Boss, there are two important clients here to see you."

"Tell them I'm dead."

Empire State University

"And so, while Sigmund Freud's ideas and theories may be outdated, they are still commonly used today," Prof. Straum taught, "the Id, Ego, and Superego are still valid, even if they have been deemed invalid. The subconscious of the human mind is what fascinates me most about this course and I hope it fascinates you fine students too."

David stared at the teacher as he wrote down notes on the board and David quickly copied them in his notebook. He copied down the necessary information before summarizing the rest to avoid any boring copying work he might be doing.

David had his elbow positioned on his desk and his chin resting on his wrist. He spun his pencil around in his hands using his index finger and thumb several times, absentmindedly, as his mind drifted elsewhere.

Yuri is a detective; I trust her to narrow down the list of suspects all by herself. She is smart, resourceful, and the perfect ally to have from the inside of the police station. As a token of goodwill, Yuri erased my record from when I was brought in for questioning. I suspected that she did it out of pragmatism because I managed to prove my innocence and there was no need to keep a falsely accused person's record in store.

He smiles.

Well, no, it didn't actually go down like that. In order to erase my record, all I had to do was give the police another false Spider-Man subject. There was this one kid at school, I framed him by placing Spider-Man gloves in his locker with blood on them. And when he was arrested, they took his DNA and put it in the database but they were able to conclude that the blood was fake and the gloves were from a Halloween store. As expected, that was another falsely accused student who was left off the hook. I came by the police station later and told Yuri how detrimental it would be if someone had a false Spider-Man arrest on their record and I may have incepted the idea of her erasing all records of falsely accused Spider-Man suspects, including my own record.

And because my delectable, delicious girlfriend, Felicia Hardy, is the daughter of the late police captain and regular visitor, she was able to get into the police station and confirm that my file was deleted.

And just like that, boom: David Dante no longer has a criminal record.

But, just because all the past records are gone doesn't mean it's going to stay that way. The Spider Act says that Spider-Man has immunity when there's a new supervillain in town but since that's not the case, the police are free to continue to try and attack me, even though some of them will leave me be if I'm rescuing people.

He looks down at his notes before looking at the board.

This spider imposter, if I'm going by these Sigmund Freud ideas, then I suspect that the spider imposter is operating on ID, wanting instant gratification. But, because of morality, assuming he has any, he knows he needs to keep his face covered so he can commit a crime without being held accountable.

He smiles.

This is why I like masks; a mask shows a person's true character. Abraham Lincoln once said that if you want to test a man's character, give him power. And there's a common belief that power corrupts. But I disagree. A human who knew what I was like before I got bitten by the spider, like a therapist for example, would assume that I was already corrupt and when I got my powers, I only acted on the outside what I'm like on the inside.

Power doesn't corrupt, power reveals what was lurking beneath the surface the entire time.

This spider imposter, when he got himself a Spider-Man mask and a knife, he realized he had to power to kill someone, and with his mask concealing his identity, no consequences unless they find his real face.

"Mr. Dante," Prof. Straum called out. "Would you care to elaborate on the difference between the Id, Ego, and Superego and provide examples?"

David looked up. "Uhh, the Id is basic instinct like a baby demanding milk. And, uhh… superego is about morality and uhh… wanting something but understanding the morality of something. And ego is… like having a sense of reality, maybe like your own reality of what's real or something. Like your ego tells you that you are the best and it is your reality."

Give barebone uneasy answers and people won't pay too much attention.

"I see you have a general idea but if you're going to be taking Advanced Psychology, I expect you to know at least half of the material." He clapped his hands. "But this is why I teach, so you aspiring psychos or whatever you kids call yourselves nowadays can succeed."

Well, he was right about at least ONE of us being a psycho.

"In fact, I can't wait for us to cover the material on psychopaths." He closes his mouth. "Sorry, Antisocial Personality Disorder. That's the proper term for a psychopath as that is nothing more than a spectrum but I can assure you that the material is interesting. Media has given psychopaths a bad name and in real life, they are much more than just killers. In fact, some psychopaths can go their entire lives without killing someone." He holds his index finger up. "In fact, you lovely young psychos, I guarantee at least one of you has ASPD in this classroom."

Yep.

"But first, let's get through Sigmund Freud's ideas first."

And the class went by fast with David taking the time to draw in his notebook and whenever the professor called on him, he would always give a non-specific average barebone answer to the question. Staying under the radar in an advanced class, just as he planned.

When David finished up, he headed back to his dorm to collect the books for his next class before checking his phone. No updates from Yuri so he had no choice but to wait. Heading into the common area to hang out, he dropped by the Crime 101 class and listened in, knowing that Felicia would be in today.

He heard vague mentions of terms related to repeated offenses and the difference between being an accomplice to a crime and an accessory. He peeped through the crack of the slightly ajar door and saw Felicia sitting at her desk, three pink erasers hidden in her desk.

Wow, stealing in a Crime 101 class, what a real classic, Felicia. Just be careful not to be made an example of. Just like me in Psychology class.

With Eddie

"Man, this is so boring."

Eddie clenched his teeth and tried to block out Venom's voice. He covered his mouth and whispered as quietly as possible, "Don't distract me, Venom."

"I'm sorry but I can't understand how you humans do this. With high school, I could put up with it but these college classes are SO long and boring."

Eddie scratched the back of his head. "Please… just seventy more minutes and then we can talk."

"Fine, whatever, but expect me to annoy the living hell out of you."

Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes.

After Eddie finished his class, he gathered his things and went to the laundry room to do his laundry. Ever since he bonded with Venom, Venom was mostly making up Eddie's clothing so Eddie technically wasn't wearing anything under the symbiote. But if he was going to part with the symbiote for a few hours at a time, then he would at least like to be wearing some kind of clothing.

He went down to the laundry room and quickly put his clothes in the wash. After waiting around for a while, he put them in the dryer and finished his next class before returning.

As Eddie was gathering his laundry, he looked over to the counter where one of the students working as a clerk for the laundry room was met by a student with a mohawk.

"Joel," the clerk responded with a smile, "lovely to see you this morning. I assume you're here for your tuxedo."

"Yeah," Joel said smugly. "I got a hot date tonight."

The clerk nodded. "Well, it pains me to say but your tuxedo caught on fire when we were ironing it. It burned down a section of the ironing room so we had to take some money out of your account to pay for the damages."

Joel looked dumbfounded before the words set in. "What did you say? Did you just steal my money? Did you just burn my suit!"

"I truly apologize for what happened. We can offer you some complimentary sparkling water."

"You burned my suit and you stole my money?!" He slams his hands down on the ground and glares at the clerk. He backs away and thrusts an accusing finger at the clerk. "Fuck you!"

Eddie quickly grabbed his laundry out of the dryer and got out of there.

"Man, I would not want to be that guy."

"Yeah," Eddie grunts.

After Eddie dressed in the same clothes Venom had morphed over him, Eddie and Venom became one and they web-swung all the way to Roosevelt Island and to the Smallpox Hospital where they kept the corpses of criminals they killed. Once they touched down, Eddie went over to the freshest corpse and held his hand out.

"Venom, it's time for you to do hero work."

The symbiote leaped off of Eddie and bonded to the corpse, using it as a puppet to stand up and take on the appearance of Venom.

"I hate this corpssse."

"But you only have to wear it for a little bit," Eddie reassured him. "After that, once you kill some criminals, you can eat their brains."

"I think that might not be enough."

"Come on, this is for all of us, so we can't get caught. You saw my memories; we'll go to jail, and probably get the death penalty and New York doesn't have the death penalty. They'd probably make an exception for us since we're superhuman. If I die, you won't get to hang out around me anymore."

"Huh, that isss true."

Eddie held his hands out. "Look, as much as I like hanging out with you, I hate eating chocolate all the time, even though I like it. So, maybe it would be a good thing if we all separated or something. Yeah? Just temporarily."

"You better not be betraying me, Eddie. I like you, I do; you are a lossser jussst like me."

"I am not a loser."

"Have you heard what the ssstudentsss have been sssaying about you? You walk like you are drunk."

"You like to puppet me, you bastard."

"How dare you… my parentsss are married."

"What? Symbiotes like you have parents?"

"Yeah, and our cussstomsss on Klyntar aren't ssso different from your preciousss earth."

"Tell me about it later. But for now, since I don't have to each chocolate, I'm going to be walking all the way back to ESU and picking myself up some Subway."

"Have fun, Eddie."

"You too, Venom."

Manhattan

Night finally snuck up on New York City and most of the people were going about their daily lives. However, for someone like Captain Yuriko Watanabe, she was on a mission. A DNA match came back on the spider imposter.

Gregg Grace had a criminal record, albeit, from when he was approximately fourteen years old. Assault with a deadly weapon wasn't something that went away on one's record, even if one got bailed out.

Sitting back in the passenger seat of a police cruiser, Yuri looked over to the driver, Austin Anderson, who was driving with determination… and a sit-eating grin on his face.

"What's got you so giddy? Seen some children right up your alley."

Anderson looked at her, his shit-eating grin not fading away. "No… I can't believe we're actually going to arrest Spider-Man. It is amazing."

"You know, we're just arresting someone who is dressing up as him."

"I know," Anderson said through clenched teeth. "Spider-Man."

"Imposter."

"Spider-Man." He turned ahead, keeping his eyes on the road. "We're arresting Spider-Man."

Yuri rolls her eyes. "Okay then, if you want to think that to make yourself feel better then that's fine by me. By the way, I've been meaning to ask: did you shave off your beard to look less pedophilic?"

"I get called a pedophile at least three times a day by at least six people at the police station each day, weekends and days off included; I deserve to feel good just for a few seconds."

Yuri sat back. "Sorry." She sighed. "You know, uhh, there's a policeman's ball coming up, the quarterly one so… are you going?"

Anderson nods. "Yeah, I'm going. And how about you? Inviting your boyfriend to go?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"You are one lonely woman, Yuri."

"And what about you? Aren't you bringing anyone to the policeman's ball?"

Anderson hesitated. "I don't need a date."

"It doesn't have to be a date; it can be a friend."

"I don't have any… I don't want to bring a friend. Honestly, I'll go just to show my support but nothing else."

Yuri chuckled. "If you say so."

Ander stared ahead as he pulled up to the curb in front of Gregg's apartment building. "I have the warrant and everything else set up; this bitch isn't going to get away from us."

"Remember, don't engage unless necessary."

"Aww, but I was going to sic the dogs on his balls."

"Be a good little cop and follow my orders."

"Yes, dear captain."

The two got out of the car and they went into the apartment building. They took the fastest route to Gregg Grace's apartment and they knocked on the door. The suspect opened the door, wearing a loose Spider-Man outfit and going wide-eyed.

"Gregg Grace," Anderson spoke enthusiastically, "we have a warrant for your arrest." He grabs Gregg by the hands and puts cuffs on him. Anderson quickly read him his Miranda Rights. "Do you understand your rights?"

Gregg nodded. "Yes, I most certainly do." He became almost as docile as a puppy when Anderson pushed him forward. "This arrest of mine, is it public?"

Yuri, who was on her phone, sending out a message on her radio, looked at the back of Gregg's head. "No, this arrest was not made public."

Gregg scowled. "You should've told the entire world that you arrested the spider imposter; isn't it better for everyone?"

They made it to the elevator and they stood silent inside before Gregg spoke up once more. "Think about it; if word got out that I have been arrested, it could send a message to people. To not follow in my footsteps."

The elevator door opened. Anderson glared at Gregg.

"You only want people to know about your arrest so you can be looked at as some kind of martyr." He grounds his teeth. "You want a public outrage, right?" He leads him to the cruiser. "You want the public to see you as a hero, someone who was only inspired by the hero of New York City and acting to follow in his footsteps." The two officers stepped inside the car. Yuri closed the back passenger door after Gregg settled inside.

"Uproar?" Gregg smugly asked. "You think a good, upstanding citizen like me wants to create an uproar? If anything I want to inspire hope in people. Spider-Man gave me hope and I want to show that to the public. I want them to know of the hope Spidey inspires in people." He notices the door is slightly ajar.

The police cruiser drives off and after driving for several blocks, gets stuck in traffic that lasts about thirty minutes.

"Spider-Man is a pure evil and vile criminal," Anderson declared, "he is nothing but a killer. Sure, I'm not going to ignore the fact that he saves people but he has the power to incapacitate people, yet he chooses to kill his enemies. I also won't ignore that he only kills violent criminals during active crimes but still. If he has the power to stop criminals, he should only use killing as a last resort." He slams his hands on the wheel in frustration. "It's because he resorts to killing first that it creates more people like you, Gregg."

"I'm a fan of his, inspired by him."

Yuri looks over. "Anderson, you-"

Gregg bolts out of the car by kicking the rear passenger door open. He makes a break for it and almost gets hit by a taxi that was moving up slightly before he suddenly felt something hit the center of his back and tumble to the ground.

He crawled away and rolled on his back to look at the perpetrator and gasps when he saw who it was.

Spider-Man, in the costumed flesh.

"Hello," Spidey said casually. "I like your costume; nice getup."

He's got the spider symbol on the chest wrong; no attention to detail in this one.

Gregg's eyes light up and a smile finds its way onto his face. "Spider-Man, it's you. It's really you!"

Yuri and Anderson got out of the car, Spidey webbed their hands to the grille without looking.

The bystanders around them started to gather around and gasped in awe at the hero. Some of them decided to get out of there, however.

Good, there are people gathered around; now I can send my message.

Spidey perches. "So, you're the one who's been impersonating me. You were the one who killed those three mobsters in that alleyway, right?"

"Yeah, I did! Spider-Man, I'm a huge fan and I've been inspired by you."

"I can tell by the costume." Spidey sizes him up. "How big of a fan are you?"

"Well, I killed people wearing your costume so that should tell you."

"It does, it does tell me what kind of fan you are." Spidey tilts his head. "They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and as a way of saying thank you, I need you for something."

Gregg gasped. "You need me?" He smiled. "You need me?!"

"Yeah," Spidey nodded after seeing cameras recording them. "I need you to deliver a message for me."

"Yes," Gregg panted, "yes, anything, Spider-Man."

Spidey web-yanks a manhole cover to him and holds it above his head.

"No!" Gregg yelled. "No, NO!"

Spidey hammers the manhole cover down on Gregg and cuts through his skull like a knife through cake. He didn't decapitate him from the neck up, no, but from the nose up. The bystanders gasped and backed away from Spidey while others made a break for it.

However, one person in the crowd stayed behind to snap some photos: Eddie Brock.

Spidey tosses the cover over the manhole before standing up and heading for the cruiser. He reached for the radio inside and used it.

"If anyone tries to kill in my name..." Spidey's voice echoed in the microphone for all to hear, "...I will hunt you down."

He tosses the radio on the seat before leaping into the air and swinging off.

Good, now everyone knows not to imitate me or copy me. And with everyone recording me, surely, it will find its way online and people will get the message No more copy spiders or spider imposters.

The Daily Bugle

Eddie Brock sat down in Jonah's office with a smile, a shit-eating grin on his face as he had J. Jonah Jameson looks through the pictures Eddie caught of Spider-Man and the imposter.

Jameson laid down the eight photos and looked at Eddie. "I'll pay you the usual rate."

"$600?" Eddie beamed.

"$500, stop try and chisel me, Broadway."

"I still can't get over how much I hate this guy."

"Well, that's just how life is."

"What was that, Broadway?"

"Brock," Eddie corrected. "But... if you're going on air and planning on using these photos then you should pay more because these photos are high-res. Front and center, no drama, just straight to the point."

"Jameson looks delicious; maybe we can eat him."

"You're tough kid, pretty soon, you're going to be asking for an invoice."

"What?" Eddie sighed. "I didn't say anything about an invoice; I was just-"

"Don't worry, I'll make sure Betty gets you an invoice." He pulls out a cigar. "$555.55, not a penny higher; how does that sound, invoice boy?"

Eddie gritted his teeth. "Alright, deal." He wrote Eddie a check. "Now shoo, get out of my office before I go into a coma."

Eddie collects his check before heading over to Betty's desk outside. Betty looked up at him and smiled.

"I saw the photos you took, Eddie, good quality," she praised.

"Thank you." Eddie smiled.

"Man, she smells delicious. But not as delicious as Anne does."

"That's a step too far, man."

"What?" Betty looked at him. "What is?"

"Oh..." Eddie licked his lips nervously, "Uh... I was just... nothing. Just... my mind is in a different place."

"Yeah, a mental institute."

Eddie patted his head.

Betty deposited Eddie's check before confirming the transaction was successful.

"How's the Daily Bugle been? How has it been being part of both a newspaper and a news reporting company?"

"I'm just a receptionist."

"A step up from a gopher."

"Nah, that's Ned's role."

"Good for all of you." Eddie smiled nervously before he clicked his tongue. "Well, I'ma get going now."

"Don't be a stranger, Eddie."

"Smooth moves there, Casanova; trying to cheat on lovely Annie?"

Eddie began walking. "No," he whispered under his breath. "Just trying to make conversation."

"Man, David may be the emotionless one but at least he knows how to hold a conversation like a smooth gentleman. If you want to impress your girlfriend, Annie, we need to make some improvements on you, Eddie."

"And how?"

"Let me take control."

"No."

Eddie stopped in the middle of the room and put his hands on his chest. He started pulling at his collar and staggering forward like a drunkard. "What are you doing?"

"I am leading this dance, Eddie."

Eddie's hand slid across a man's scalp. The man looked at him weirdly. "What are you doing?"

"Uhh... nothing, what are you doing?"

"Such a class-act answer, boy."

Eddie walked forward and hit his shoulder against the wall. "Ow."

"You need to build your pain tolerance. You may have bulked up these past nine months but you still need to build up your tolerance."

Eddie made it to the elevator door. Eddie slammed his forehead into the door before pressing the call button. "Stop it," he hissed, "you're making me look weird."

"You are a loser, Eddie, so you might as well start embracing it."

"I don't want to be a loser, loser."

"We are like-minded losers so let's embrace it."

The elevator door opened and Eddie stepped inside. Eddie pushed the lobby button before his head smacked into the wall. "Stop it."

"You're the one making it difficult for me to move."

"I have a Snickers in my pocket that I'm pretty sure is melted; I'll let you have it if you shut up."

"Then give me it."

Eddie reached into his pocket to pull out the Snickers bar. While it was still wrapped, it had melted. He unwrapped it and shoved the entire thing in his mouth, wrapper and all. He gagged and coughed up the wrapper with it completely clean of chocolate.

"You're a weirdo for forcing me to eat a wrapper."

"I made you throw it up, didn't I? See how generous I am, boy?"

"Stop using me as a puppet."

He walked like a drunk bastard out of the Daily Bugle.

Chinatown

When they pulled up to the building in Chinatown in Felicia's car her mother sent her, they parked along the curb a block away as they stared at the old building. Felicia, who was driving, looked to the passenger seat to address David. "Is this the part where we go over the plan a third time?"

David shrugs. "I don't know; have you guys proven to be mentally competent enough where I don't have to repeat myself?"

"Yes," Eddie nodded, "you don't have to keep saying the same things over and over again."

Cindy spoke up and said, "Go in there, use our two thousand dollars to buy into the games, and then we clean out the tables."

"Eight thousand was all that I could manage to scrounge up from the last heist I committed," Felicia admitted, "well, it's not enough to make us rich but it's enough."

"Find a big table with a lot of players and we clean them out," David said. "Remember the ways you cheat and try not to get caught. And does everyone got their disguise ready?"

Eddie held his hand out and three pieces of the symbiote leaped out and attached to his companions. The symbiote that landed on David bonded to his face before morphing a beard onto him, making him look thirty years old. Felicia had dyed her hair a red color but the symbiote managed to make like she was heavily scarred with several slashes across her face. As for Cindy, she had an eyepatch she brought with her and the symbiote attached to her face and changed the color of her eyes to blue and her lips rosy red.

"I'm Korean," Cindy pointed out, "not a lot of Koreans have blue eyes."

"Well, the men inside aren't Rhode Scholars so this will do." Felicia rubbed her fingers over her face. "My poor delicate face, you'll have to suffer just for a few hours."

David opened his door. "Wait thirty minutes and come in one at a time."

"David," Cindy called out. "I saw what you did with that spider imposter."

That's the point, Cindy.

"We're going to have a long chat about that tomorrow."

"If you say so."

David leaves the car behind and walks into the building, where an underground casino was being run. He went over to the desk, bought two stacks of poker chips, and went to the table to play Texas Hold 'Em with 8 players.

The dealer, Falco, looked up at the intruder. "Who are you?"

"Oh, uh..."

Go on, play the nervous guy curious guy; you've aced all throughout high school.

"I heard that this was a good place to do some gambling," he put on a German accent, which he perfected thanks to his German heritage. "Las Vegas is too far."

"And why did you pick here? Who told you about this place?"

"Word gets around fast. I want high stakes... but I only have two thousand dollars."

Falco laughed. "Two thousand dollars is nothing; the super stakes in this place are thirty thousand. Grab a seat and play with us."

"Ja, ja."

Hook, line, and sinker.

David grabs a seat and sits between two big gangers named Owen and Jardani.

And with that, David's night of gambling to make money was about to start. The first few games went off without a hitch and since he wasn't a big or small blind, he folded until he felt he had good cards. He would always call out his checks in German before the others complained and ordered him to either check in English or simply tap the table. He opted for the latter.

These sons of bitches wear their tells like Santa hats on Christmas. Despite these guys living a double life, civilians on one hand, mobsters on the other, they don't know how to properly hide their tells. There are some who just love scratching around their nose and some who might have lice because they scratch their hair a lot.

He heard the door open and didn't have to turn to hear Eddie's familiar-sounding footsteps.

And just like that, Eddie is in. I wonder what game he's playing... but I should cease making any eye contact with him unless necessary unless I want these mob guys looking in my direction.

Eddie used the symbiote to make himself look like an old geezer. He sat at a table and played Gin Rummy with several players. The advantage he had over them was the fact that he had another piece of the symbiote separated from him, crawl to the ceiling and look at the other player's cards and send a telepathic link back to the main symbiote body.

Essentially, Eddie had a camera telling him what his enemies had and he was fighting every iota in his body to not smile.

When Felicia came in, she went to a Blackjack table, pretending to be disabled by limping. She sat down pain-looking in the chair and put her money in. She used her bad luck powers on her enemies to make them get bad cards. She folded a few times, even busting to not make it obvious, and took her time.

As for Cindy, when she got in, she was going to go for a $20/40 Stud game when she noticed people playing darts in the corner. People were making bets and the person with the most bullseyes would win money. The buy-in was two thousand dollars and Cindy used his natural marksmanship and hand-eye coordination to her advantage.

To up the ante, when the dart players were throwing or had a certain number of bullseye under their belt, they would have to move back fives paces and the odds and prize money will double. Cindy tried not to be a showoff considering that her disguise involved a blindfold; she aimed with her left hand but made it look like she was left-handed.

This is perfect; all going according to plan. I expected it to work but not like this, not with everyone so in sync. Cindy, the most reluctant to do any of this, was the one kicking the dart players' asses in darts. Eddie is using Venom to win Gin Rummy and Felicia is bad-lucking everyone at her Blackjack table.

Yeah, I could've done this all on my own but without the feats of Felicia, Cindy, and Eddie, I would've been making thirty thousand or however much at a much slower rate. Yeah, I loot the bodies of my victims but they barely have sixty dollars in their wallets. But this way, I have a thief, a spy with multiple eyes, and the best sharpshooter in darts by my side.

Then again, I could beat darts, even without Cindy, but the advantage of working as a team is having an extra pair of hands or two. And this is why the Spider team of New York is strong; we all complement each other and make up for our strengths and weaknesses but most of all, we have each other's back.

To be honest, I would sacrifice their lives before my own but until that day comes, I'll make sure they're all taken care of, out of practicality... and loyalty.