"Yeah, Peter, it's just as bad as you'd imagine. Maggie was dead, sitting by that window for days. She didn't have any family to care for her—or her cats."
Peter had already pictured the grim scene that Uncle Ben walked into, imagining the sight of Maggie's body, possibly mauled by the cats she had cared for.
"That's enough, Ben. This story isn't suitable for a teenager," Aunt May interjected at just the right moment.
Uncle Ben nodded in agreement. "You're probably right, May," he said with a shrug towards Peter. "Stories like this can be too dark for someone your age. I wouldn't want to give you nightmares tonight."
"But," Uncle Ben continued, changing the subject, "I can share a bit more about what happened after."
"What happened next, Uncle Ben?" Peter asked curiously.
"Maggie's body was eventually found, but the cats weren't dealt with properly. They kept breeding, and soon there were so many that the house turned into a haven for stray cats," Uncle Ben explained, taking a sip of his coffee. "People put up with it for a while, but eventually someone set fire to the place, burning down the house—and all the cats with it."
He sighed, adding, "That's what I went through as a newspaper boy. It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience."
Peter nodded thoughtfully. "That's definitely a creepy story, Uncle Ben."
He could vividly imagine the crackling of the flames and the heart-wrenching cries of the cats as the house burned down.
"You're always getting off topic, Ben," Aunt May said with a hint of exasperation. "We were discussing family expenses."
"It's not my fault," Uncle Ben replied defensively. "You're the one who brought up the story in the first place."
Aunt May sighed. "You're right. But because of that story, I've developed a negative impression of cats, so..."
She looked at Peter with mock seriousness. "Peter, if you ever want to get a cat, I'm going to have to say no."
"Getting a cat?" Peter blinked, surprised. Had his previous self talked about adopting a cat? After a moment, he shook his head. "Actually, I wasn't thinking about that."
"Really? You don't like cats?" Aunt May asked.
Peter smiled awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm not much of a cat person."
---
The scene shifts to a cold night in the city, where shadows and the unsettling caws of crows filled the air. A few stray black cats scavenged through a trash can in an alley near City Hall, struggling to find food as winter set in. Suddenly, a dark figure as swift as a cat darted through the alley with a sharp swish. Startled, the black cats leapt from the trash can and glanced upwards nervously, but found nothing.
Confused, the black cats eventually resumed their scavenging.
---
The next morning, in the Mayor's office:
"Mr. Murdock, we found nothing. It's like the place was completely cleaned up," a well-built man in a suit reported to a younger man in a black suit standing by the window.
The man, wearing red-tinted sunglasses and holding a white cane, turned towards the speaker. It was Matt Murdock, the blind lawyer Peter had encountered at the hospital—though he was more famously known as "Daredevil."
"There's no trace of the thief, not even the smallest clue," the man continued. "We searched the area and checked all surveillance footage, but came up empty. The mayor's office was broken into, but there's no sign of who did it."
Matt nodded, adjusting his tie thoughtfully. "It's not unusual," he replied. "Some thieves aren't interested in valuables. They steal things that can't be locked away and can't be replaced."
With that, he turned and headed for the door, leaving the investigation behind without another word. His men followed him, puzzled.
"Are we not continuing the investigation, sir?" one of them asked.
"No need," Matt replied confidently. "I know who the thief is. She's just a thief with a strange sense of justice. We have bigger issues to handle right now."
"Understood," his subordinates responded, falling in line behind him.
---
Back at his law firm, Matt Murdock began his day. Unlike most lawyers, his job wasn't just handling cases—it involved managing problems for a particular client connected to a powerful corporation. He retrieved a tape from the files and played it in a recording device.
The tape filled the room with a cacophony of sounds. While it was chaotic, Matt listened carefully, focusing on every detail.
If Peter had been there, he would have recognized the recording—it was from the tragic incident at the Midtown High School football field. The tape began with cheers and celebrations, but quickly shifted to panic and screams as the scene turned deadly.
Matt's keen ears picked up on a significant detail buried in the noise. He whispered to himself, "Gwen Stacy again?"
He paused the recording, thinking deeply. The organization that employed him had ties to the Hand, and the person responsible for the football field tragedy was also linked to them. Frank's transformation couldn't be separated from the influence of the Hand's "Beast." After the transformation, Frank gained immense strength—strength that Matt doubted Gwen Stacy could have overcome without help.
He questioned what might have really happened.
Matt wanted to gather more information from the NYPD, but George Stacy, Gwen's father, refused to share any details. Frustrated, Matt turned to the window, letting the morning light touch his face. His phone suddenly rang, and after listening for a moment, his expression turned serious.
"I'll be there right away," he said before hanging up.
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