"Ethan, are you sure you're okay?" Ethan asked Gwen Stacy once more.
"I'm fine, just a little tired. See you tomorrow," Gwen replied wearily.
"See you tomorrow," Ethan responded with a smile.
He was in good spirits. Not only had he made a substantial amount of money, but he had also completed another task. His heart was filled with joy.
"System, is the Ghost Spider really born?" Ethan couldn't help but check on Gwen's safety.
[Rest assured, host. The task is complete.]
The system's confirmation put Ethan at ease. Unexpectedly, he had played a part in the birth of the Ghost Spider. He just wasn't sure if Gwen Stacy was ready to embrace her new role as a hero. Every hero undergoes trials, and according to the Ghost Spider storyline, the event that shaped Gwen was Peter Parker's death in her arms—a tragic loss that forced her to grow.
Ethan couldn't help but wonder, Will Peter's fate repeat itself here?
A strange expression crossed his face at the thought.
Later that evening, after a meal at home, Ethan was ready for his next move. He changed into black clothes, threw on a mask and hood, and walked toward Hell's Kitchen, blending into the shadows. As he passed through the dark streets, homeless people, drug dealers, and petty criminals turned their heads to watch him.
He could even sense his desire points increasing as he passed them, picking up on the greedy and violent thoughts that surrounded him. But Ethan didn't bother with them—they weren't his target tonight.
His focus was on the triad, specifically Mrs. Gao's organization. Ethan knew that disturbing one faction could set off a domino effect in Hell's Kitchen. The place was a breeding ground for crime, and the underworld operated with a delicate balance of power. There was Jin Bin, Mrs. Gao, the Russian mafia, and other dangerous groups. The neighborhood was also home to a surprising number of heroes, with Daredevil standing out among them, often referred to as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
Standing outside a rundown building, Ethan stared at the place Jessica Jones had pointed out to him in a photo. He debated whether to unleash his freezing powers here. Attacking a gang was one thing, but exposing his abilities could attract the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D., the X-Men, or even the military. His peaceful life could easily be shattered.
"This is why heroes wear masks," Ethan muttered. He understood that anonymity wasn't just about protecting oneself, but also about safeguarding the people around them from retaliatory attacks.
But despite his concerns, Ethan had made up his mind. The triad had to go. He approached a metal door and knocked loudly.
Clang, clang, clang!
A small window in the door slid open, and a pair of cold eyes stared out at him.
"What do you want?" asked one of the triad members.
Ethan, masked and hooded, smiled beneath his disguise. "I just wanted to ask—have you ever been kicked by ice?"
His legs crystallized as the power of his frozen fruit ability coursed through him. Without hesitation, Ethan kicked the door, sending it flying off its hinges. The gangster behind the door was knocked off his feet, crashing into the wall like he'd been hit by a truck.
"Enemy attack!" a voice shouted in Chinese from deeper inside the building.
Ethan strode inside. Gunfire erupted, but he didn't flinch. His body turned to solid ice, and the bullets ricocheted off him harmlessly.
Ding, ding, ding!
"Phantom Fist!" Ethan shouted as he launched himself into the crowd, fists harder than steel pounding into the gang members. Every punch was a knockout.
Grabbing one of their guns, Ethan began shooting. His aim was decent, but he realized he could be more precise.
"System, use my wealth to improve my marksmanship."
[Consuming 50,000 wealth points to obtain sharpshooter-level marksmanship.]
With his newfound sharpshooter skills, Ethan made quick work of the remaining triad members. Those who tried to flee were rewarded with a bullet to the back of the head.
The warehouse was a mess of blood and chaos by the time Ethan was done. The floor was littered with bodies, and the air was thick with the stench of death. Ethan glanced at the piles of drugs and stacks of USD scattered around. He wasn't interested in the drugs, but the cash was another story.
Packing the money into a black bag, Ethan set fire to the drugs. As the flames roared, he knew his task wasn't over yet. There were still more triad members out there.
Carrying two bags full of cash, he smiled to himself. "There's been too much noise already. Daredevil must have heard by now."
Tonight, Hell's Kitchen would burn.
He poured gasoline around the building, set up a few bombs he had found inside, and set the timers. Then, he smashed the window of a nearby van, loaded the bags into it, and started the engine.
"The enemy is still at large," Ethan whispered to himself as he drove away. "Tonight, I'll turn Hell's Kitchen upside down."
On the rooftops above, Daredevil leaped from building to building, his keen senses tracking Ethan's movements. Ethan grinned. He had expected the Devil of Hell's Kitchen to show up.
But what Daredevil didn't expect was the thin layer of ice that had formed on the roof he was about to land on. His feet slipped out from under him, and he crashed hard onto the street below.
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