The next morning in Forest Hills, Peter sat in his room, sorting through the information Matt had provided.
A thick stack of documents lay before him, detailing the activities of the Hand and the Kingpin Gang. Some pages even described the Hand's research on "beasts."
These records included criminal activities, financial transactions, and damning evidence against these gangs. If made public, they could land Hell's Kitchen's underworld leaders in prison.
But for Matt Murdoch, the man who handed Peter this treasure trove of secrets, this would spell his doom. These gangsters wouldn't hesitate to tear him apart.
Peter had thought Matt, also known as "Night Demon," was a cunning and ruthless figure who'd never surrender so easily. Yet, Matt had handed over everything without resistance.
Or so it seemed.
Peter stood and gazed out the window.
The man wasn't afraid—he was the devil. Devils excel at sowing discord.
Matt didn't give up this information out of fear. Instead, he aimed to create more chaos, using Peter as a weapon.
Sitting back down, Peter picked up Matt's red business card.
However, Peter had an advantage: the alien within him was the ultimate predator. As long as Matt was alive, he'd never escape Peter's reach.
Just as Peter pondered this, his phone vibrated.
"Gwen?" he answered.
"Hi, Peter," Gwen said, her voice brimming with joy. "I'm at the hospital. Can you come over? My dad woke up, and the doctor says he'll be fine!"
"That's great news," Peter replied.
"Um," Gwen hesitated before continuing, "My dad wants to talk to you. You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not."
---
At Presbyterian Hospital, Peter stood by the bed of George Stacy, who appeared weak but alert.
"Sorry about what I said before," George began. "I went too far. You're a good kid, Peter. I've always known that."
"That wasn't really you, Sheriff Stacy," Peter replied, shaking his head. "I understand."
Guilt clouded George's face. "Gwen told me what happened. That thing made me lose control. I wasn't myself, and I hurt both you and Gwen."
His voice carried deep regret.
Peter glanced at the blinds covering the window and said, "You don't need to apologize, Sheriff Stacy. I didn't take it personally."
George froze, his expression awkward.
Peter's words from their previous encounter resurfaced in George's mind. Despite losing control, George had been calm enough to voice harsh truths—his doubts about Peter's influence on Gwen, his fears about her future, and his self-criticism as a parent.
Now Peter was subtly reminding him of those words.
This kid isn't as straightforward as he looks, George thought.
Clearing his throat, George changed the subject. "Your Uncle Ben visited me. Can you thank him for me? I'll thank him in person once I'm discharged."
"I will," Peter replied. "Sheriff Stacy, do you know who did this to you?"
George paused, thinking back. "The last person I remember seeing was Matt Murdoch."
Peter handed George a folder containing part of Matt's documents. "A so-called 'messenger of justice' asked me to give this to you."
George flipped through the file, his face tightening with shock.
"These… These are records of Matt Murdoch's crimes!"
If the contents were authentic, they'd be enough to imprison Matt for life. Even with his legal expertise, Matt wouldn't escape unscathed.
Peter left the ward, leaving George to process the revelations.
He'd deliberately chosen to share only part of the documents. Verifying their authenticity was important, but Peter also wanted Matt to experience the torment of exposure before making his next move.
---
In the hospital corridor, Gwen approached Peter with a concerned expression.
"Peter, my dad didn't say anything out of line, did he?"
Peter noticed her flushed face and realized she'd been eavesdropping again. Gwen had a habit of spying on his conversations with her father.
"No," Peter replied. "Sheriff Stacy even apologized to me."
"That's good," Gwen said, visibly relieved. Then, hesitantly, she asked, "Peter… Do I remind you of my dad?"
The question caught Peter off guard. Gwen seemed self-conscious.
"I mean," she continued, "I'm not sure if I want to be a cop. Sometimes, I don't even know the difference between right and wrong."
She sighed. "Dad taught me a lot, but does that mean everything he taught me is right? And you said something that stuck with me… If I don't know what's wrong, how will I know what's right?"
Gwen looked down, frustrated. "I thought doing the right thing was simple. But it's not, is it?"
She recalled the events of the previous night. Without Spider-Man's help, she would've failed—unable to save her father, or even herself.
Becoming a true hero suddenly felt like a distant goal.
Peter observed her troubled expression. After a moment, he stepped closer, meeting her gaze.
"Gwen, if you believe something is right, keep moving forward. Don't doubt yourself," he said gently. "Sometimes, knowing right from wrong isn't easy. But choosing a direction and sticking to it—that's the simplest path."
Gwen's heart skipped a beat as she looked into Peter's eyes. He seemed gentler, more approachable.
Nodding, she felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between them. A hug or even a closer conversation—she wanted something more.
But before she could act, a distant noise interrupted her thoughts, pulling her back to reality.
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