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Nighttime in New York City—a city split in two by the massive gap in wealth between its residents.
Sometimes, all it takes is one street to go from one world to a completely different one.
On one side, it's luxury and decadence—like paradise.On the other, it's pain and struggle—like hell.
While countless working-class people were already fast asleep, resting up for another long day, just across the street in the rich district, the lights still burned bright. The nightlife was still buzzing.
For the wealthy, the night had only just begun.
And for those looking to make a quick, dirty buck without working for it, this place was just as much of a paradise.
This was, after all, the "harmonious" land of opportunity.
Almost every moment of every day, some kind of crime was happening.
And right now, in a quiet alley right on the border between the poor and the rich districts…
A group of young Black men, dressed "fashionably street," had cornered a middle-aged woman against a wall.
"Help! Please! Stay away from me!"
She knew full well that in this city—this place with a polished surface but rotten core—going out alone at night was a bad idea.
But her family was in serious trouble. Her husband was seriously ill, and her baby—just over a year old—needed food and care.
She had no choice but to risk it, hoping to land a better-paying night job.
Until now, she'd been lucky.
But Lady Luck doesn't smile forever.
Tonight, her luck ran out. She was completely surrounded.
"Don't come closer! I have money! I'll give it to you! Please, let me go—my baby's still waiting for me at home!"
With trembling hands, she quickly fumbled through her pockets and pulled out all the cash she'd prepared in advance, hoping it'd be enough to buy her freedom.
But she underestimated just how greedy this crew was. A few dozen bucks wasn't gonna cut it for a whole gang.
One of them, clearly the ringleader—a tall, broad guy wearing a classic cowboy-style hat—stepped up and slowly took the bills from her hands.
He calmly smoothed out the bills one by one, sorted them from largest to smallest, folded them neatly in half, and tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans.
"Heh… lady, you really think that little bit of cash is gonna satisfy all of us?"
As he spoke, he slowly pulled out a silver revolver from his waist, spun it around his finger a few times with practiced ease...
Then suddenly stopped the spin—gun now aimed straight at her.
"Hand over your card and anything else valuable you got. Otherwise… my trigger finger's real quick."
"Yeah, our boss is the fastest shot on this street! Don't make us search your dead body to get what we want!"
Seeing their leader act all smooth and cowboy-like, the others chimed in, throwing in praise while also threatening her.
"No, please! My husband and baby need that money! I'm begging you…"
Terrified, the woman broke down in tears, screaming and pleading for mercy as the gun stayed locked on her.
But the so-called "cowboy" didn't lower his gun. Instead, he started to count slowly, one word at a time: "Three…"
Zzzzip—!
Before he could even get to "two," a streak of silver web shot out from the darkness—smacking his revolver-holding wrist dead-on.
"Who's there?!"
The gang leader, who usually carried himself like a cool Western cowboy, was totally caught off guard—gone was all his usual swagger.
What he got in return was a massive force yanking him by the web stuck to his arm.
The pull was so strong, it lifted his whole bulky body off the ground like he weighed nothing. His revolver slipped right out of his hand and clattered to the floor.
The second he was yanked into the air, a shadow shot out from the darkness—
And landed a brutal kick right to his face.
It felt like he'd been hit head-on by a car.
He went flying backward, and before he even hit the wall behind him, a few teeth mixed with blood had already flown out of his mouth.
By the time he slammed into the wall, he was completely out cold.
"Boss!"
The other thugs hadn't even seen what just happened.
All they saw was their leader suddenly getting launched through the air and smashing into a wall, not moving.
Then, out of nowhere, a figure appeared in front of them—wearing a tight black-and-white suit with a hood, patterned like a spiderweb.
"Oh crap, it's Spider-Woman!"
Just a week ago, the name "Spider-Woman" had blown up across New York. Every street-level thug knew there was someone out there specifically hunting their kind.
In that moment, they all realized exactly who had just shown up—the vigilante who'd been striking fear into every criminal in the city: Spider-Woman.
"Run for it!"
The rest of the gang panicked and scattered in every direction, scrambling to get out of the alley as fast as they could. Only one younger guy froze in place, completely paralyzed by fear, collapsing in a heap in the corner.
"Haha, guess that saying's true—you don't have to be faster than the predator, just faster than your buddies!"
A Black guy was the fastest of the bunch, sprinting way ahead of the others. He was just about to reach the end of the alley.
"Yes! Once I'm out of the alley, I'm safe!"
But just as he was about to celebrate—
His body suddenly stopped moving, like he'd hit an invisible wall. He was only one step away from freedom.
And that one step felt like a gap he could never cross.
The next moment, something slammed into him with ridiculous force, sending him flying backward through the air—
BANG!
He crashed hard into a wall.
Then—splat splat splat!
He was webbed up in a super awkward, totally humiliating pose, stuck tight to the wall like some kinda modern art sculpture.
Meanwhile, the rest of his buddies didn't fare any better.
Before any of them could escape the alley, one by one, they were snatched up and slapped against the walls by thick webs, stuck there in all kinds of ridiculous poses.
They looked like some weird, freaky mural.
"Heh, all done."
Spider-Woman stood there, having taken out almost all of them with zero effort.
"Wait... one more."
Just then, her spider-sense flared up. Instinctively, she spun around and fired a web behind her—
"Huh? No way!"
She never missed.
But this time... her web hit nothing.
The threat her spider-sense had warned her about—
Was already in someone else's hands.
A tall, imposing figure had silently appeared in the shadows of the alley. No one had noticed when he showed up.
Now, he was holding the last thug by the neck—the one who'd been frozen in place earlier, but had picked up the revolver to try and sneak-attack her from behind.
The stranger lifted him effortlessly with one hand, like he weighed nothing.
"Ghhkkk…"
The punk choked and squirmed, totally helpless. The guy's arm felt like it was made of steel, and his grip was like a vice around his throat. He was just moments away from passing out completely.
At that moment, the mysterious guy seemed to completely forget he was holding a living person in his hand.
Instead, he stared at the Spider-Woman not far away, speaking in a deep, slow voice:
"Finally found you… Spider-Woman!"
"....."