DC Chapter 6 The Haunt for Criminals begin

Viktor's rise from obscurity to immense wealth had not gone unnoticed in Gotham. Whispers filled the city's dark alleys, posh lounges, and corporate boardrooms. Few understood how he had ascended so quickly. Especially coming from the rough streets, where hope was often a fleeting concept. Most speculated he had inherited money or somehow wormed his way into lucrative tech deals, there is also a famous rumor that he had bed one of the millionaire woman and became a boytoy, though no one knew for sure. In a city like Gotham, filled with old money and darker secrets, his meteoric rise was a subject of fascination.

In the dimly lit apartment, Lucrisha sat at the edge of her unmade bed, her eyes wide and unblinking as they darted across the old computer screen. The headline screamed at her: "Viktor Forst: Gotham's Newest Millionaire." Her pulse quickened, pounding in her ears like a drum. Images of Viktor flooded the screen. Handsome compared to his old scrawny self, his now very powerful as seen on the screen where his shaking hands with Gotham's elite, standing tall in perfectly tailored suits, basking in the glow of success.

Her breath hitched, a strangled sound, as envy gnawed at her insides. "That... should've been me," she muttered, her grip tightening on her chair until her knuckles turned white. Her hands shook as she bite her nails, her mind spiraling. Her life. Her future. But instead, Viktor was living it, thriving in a world she'd once imagined for herself.

She stared into the dim reflection of herself in the cracked mirror across the room. Her disheveled hair, sunken eyes, the tired, hollow look of someone who'd lost more than just a lover. "I should never have left him... but... He was just a looser back then." Her voice cracked, barely a whisper her actions are erratic sometimes pulling her hair or biting her nails, she even goes as far as scratch herself to felt relief.

The memory of Viktor, not that, the Diamond Devil, flashed in her mind. His skin gleaming like unfeeling stone, cold and impenetrable, not the man she used loved but something else. Something monstrous. Her body trembled, a shiver running down her spine. She pressed her palms against her temples, digging her nails into her scalp. "He's not Viktor anymore. He's... he's a monster!" Her breath came in short, panicked bursts, but the jealousy wouldn't leave, wouldn't let her go.

"He's got all that money... all that power," she whispered through clenched teeth. Her words trailed off as a manic grin spread across her face, though her eyes betrayed her, wide and frantic. She squeezed her eyes shut, her voice rising in hysteria. "What would he even need me for? He never needed me, not really." She let out a nervous laugh, " haha hahaha ha ha…"her hands trembling.

Her gaze shot back to the screen, then to the flip phone in her hands. She thumbed it open, scrolling through old blurry pictures of Viktor .The one before all this, before the wealth, the power, the devil in diamond skin. "I'll show him. I'll make him see that I matter! He'll remember who he was... who 'we' were!" Her voice was shaking now, the desperation thick.

She turned off the computer and close her phone, unable to stomach his image any longer, and stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth in her tiny apartment. She muttered to herself in a barely coherent stream of thoughts. "If he came back... if he ever came back into my life..." She stopped mid-step, staring at her reflection again as she tilts her head. Her face twisted into a mix of fear and longing. "I'd make him pay. For everything. For leaving me behind. For becoming that, that thing!"

Her fingers dug into her arms, scratching as though trying to claw the jealousy out of her skin. "He can't just have it all! He won't! Ha haha haha hahahahahahaha!!!" A wild laugh escaped her lips, unhinged and broken.

The apartment was silent except for her ragged breathing and the hum of the computer, still glowing with Viktor's face, now hidden from her sight.

+1 Fame Points Craze Lucrisha...

Reaction from Notable Figures in Gotham

Meanwhile, in the upper echelons of Gotham's elite, Viktor's rise was viewed with a mix of curiosity and caution.

In a quiet corner of the luxurious 'The Sirens Bar, two businessmen in tailored suits sat across from each other, their drinks barely touched. Outside, the city's neon lights reflected off the windows, casting an eerie glow inside.

"I don't like it," muttered one of the men, swirling his whiskey. "You don't just come from nowhere in this town. Nobody rises that fast without stepping on a few toes."

His companion, older and grizzled, nodded. "He's got some kind of backing, but I've yet to figure out who. He's already got ties with Wayne Tech, I saw him having dinner with a couple of their execs the other night."

"He's been developing tech, I heard. Game stations and this Moogle Site. Hardly something the big players will care about," the first man scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain.

"True, but someone that smart... they're usually planning something bigger. Just watch. You don't reach the top of Gotham without making enemies."

The two clinked their glasses and drank in silence, both of them wondering when Viktor Frost's true ambitions would become clear.

+ 1 Fame Points…

Reaction of the Court of Owls 🦉

Deep beneath Gotham, in the shadows of a forgotten part of the city, the Court of Owls convened. The ancient cabal, hidden from public view, watched over the city like silent puppeteers, controlling Gotham's fate through whispered plots and unseen hands.

Seated around a grand oak table in a room illuminated only by the flicker of candles, the members of the Court wore their signature owl masks, their faces hidden in darkness. They had been discussing the rise of Viktor Frost.

"His wealth is... considerable," one masked figure remarked, his voice calm and measured. "But ultimately insignificant compared to us or the Wayne's. We've seen many like him come and go in Gotham."

"Agreed," said another, tapping a gloved finger against the table. "He's yet to innovate anything of value. Toys for the masses, nothing more. His new inventions are amusing, but hardly revolutionary. This Frost is no threat to us."

A third member leaned forward, their voice sharper. "What about the rumors of this... Spider-Man? A vigilante. More than one report places him at the center of recent criminal disruptions."

The room fell silent for a moment, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows across the owl masks.

"Yes," said the first speaker, his tone darkening. "Spider-Man is... interesting. A masked enigma in our city, operating without our knowledge or permission. We must find out more about him. Whether he is man, machine, or something else."

Another member, their voice filled with quiet authority, nodded. "Focus on the Spider-Man. Viktor Frost will remain under observation, but he is no concern... yet."

The room settled into a quiet hum of agreement. As the Court of Owls continued their discussions, their interest shifted from the rising tech mogul to the shadowy vigilante making waves in the criminal underworld. While Viktor's wealth impressed some, it was the mask-wearing figure of Spider-Man that truly piqued their curiosity.

+ 1 Fame Points…

+ 1 Fame Points…

Gotham's People Reaction

On the streets of Gotham, the man known as Viktor Frost was the talk of both high society and the common folk. His rapid rise had become something of an urban legend—half-admired, half-envied. To the wealthy, he was a new player in their game, someone to either befriend or destroy. To the lower classes, he was a symbol of hope, proof that someone from their world could rise to such power, even if they didn't understand how he did it.

But no one truly knew the real Viktor Frost or the deeper, more sinister machinations lurking behind his charming facade. In time, they would.

For now, he was content to let the city speculate. After all, Gotham was always a game, and Viktor was quickly becoming its most dangerous player.

+ 1 Fame Points…

+ 1 Fame Points…

The night sky over Gotham was dark and foreboding, thick clouds swirling above the city as a faint drizzle began to fall. Streetlights flickered in the narrow alleys, casting ominous shadows across the cracked pavement. The docks, always teeming with illicit activity, were alive with the movement of criminals. Tonight, the Golden Dragon gang held dominion over this part of the city, their black-and-gold tattoos gleaming in the light as they moved through the streets, unaware that death was hunting them.

Viktor, in his newly upgraded Spider-Man suit, stood silently atop a crumbling warehouse, a menacing figure against the dark Gotham skyline. His suit, heavily armored like Stark's Iron Man designs but still different in form, clung to his diamond body, shifting seamlessly as the armor adjusted to his every movement. The black-and-white plating was angular and jagged, exuding an intimidating, almost predatory energy. Red, spider-like symbol is etched into the center of the armor, mirroring the sinister design of Venom's emblem, adding to the suit's menacing appearance.

At the center of his chest, the Ark Reactor pulsed with a deep crimson glow, powered by a fusion of Stark technology and Dark Elf technology. Red energy lines coursed through the armor's surface, tracing his limbs in jagged, lightning-like patterns, feeding power throughout the suit.

His helmet, has an like an insect's design, bore animated, compound eyes, reminiscent of Kamen Rider. The red compound eyes shifted and moved with every subtle expression, giving him a terrifying, inhuman aura. The rain slid off the dark chrome of his helmet, highlighting the sharp angles and reflective surfaces as he crouched in a predator's stance, completely still, yet ready to strike.

Below him, the Golden Dragon gang moved about, unaware of the danger lurking above. Armed thugs patrolled the alley, their heavy boots splashing through the growing puddles as the drizzle fell harder. Viktor's smile curled beneath his mask, the thrill of the hunt rising within him. His fingers twitched over his web shooters, primed and ready for action.

With a swift, fluid motion, he shot a web from his wrist, swinging silently from his perch. The webbing hit the side of a nearby building, and Viktor was airborne, moving between the shadows like a ghost. He landed quietly behind the first thug, his black form blending into the darkness. The man never saw it coming. Viktor's hand clamped over his mouth, and a sharp spider leg extended from his suit, knocking him out and Viktor dragged his body into the shadows as he wrap him up in spiderwebs making sure he can't escape or call for help.

"One down," Viktor whispered to himself, the thrill of the hunt sending a shiver through his spine.

He moved on, the rain masking the faint sound of his footsteps. Another thug turned a corner, his cigarette barely illuminating his face before Viktor's web yanked him into the darkness. The man's screams were muffled as Viktor slammed him into the wall, knocking him unconscious with a single punch.

The rest of the gang didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. One by one, Viktor took them down with brutal efficiency. He used his web shooters to disarm them, his mechanical spider legs to stab and maim, and when necessary, his shocker gauntlets to send them flying. The sound of bones snapping and flesh tearing filled the air, punctuated by the occasional crack of a gunshot. It was a symphony of violence, and Viktor was its conductor.

As he moved through the thugs, his suit adapting to each new situation, Viktor felt a surge of power. He was testing the limits of his new technology, and it felt good. His enhanced strength, the flexibility of the armor, the brutal precision of his shocker blasts—all of it made him feel unstoppable.

Soon, the alley was littered with bodies, all of them unconscious, but others are in more precarious position with broken bones and mangled limbs, Viktor stood in the center of the carnage, surveying his work with satisfaction. He had left no witnesses, no one to alert the authorities or warn Lynx, the so called leader of the Golden Dragon Gang.

But Lynx was no fool. She had felt something was off all night, it was to quiet and now, as she stood in the upper level of the Golden Dragons' warehouse, she knew why. She watched the rain fall from a large window, her one good eye scanning the docks below. Her reflection stared back at her—a young looking, beautiful Chinese woman with long, black hair tied into a tight braid, her sharp features and missing eye giving her an air of danger. She wore a black leather bodysuit, fitted for combat, with gold accents that matched the tattoos of her gang.

Lynx turned from the window, her hand resting on the hilt of the curved sword at her waist. She could feel him coming.

"Spider-Man," she muttered to herself, her lips curling into a smile. "So, the rumors are true."

The doors to the warehouse suddenly exploded inward, and Viktor stepped through the smoke, his armor gleaming. He stood tall, the red glow of his reactor casting an ominous light on his face.

"Hello Trespasser," Lynx greeted, her voice calm and confident. "So, you're just a man...?"

Viktor smirked beneath his mask. "Did you miss the man part on the name?" he quip.

Lynx unsheathed her sword, the blade gleaming in the dim light. "You beat up my crew, this will delay my operations in months!"

Viktor's four spider leg appendages spread out like giant claws on his back, moving menacingly. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

Lynx's one good eye gleamed with a mix of excitement and fury. "I'm going to kill you."

She moved in a blur, faster than any human Viktor had faced before. Her sword slashed through the air, aiming for his neck, but Viktor dodged, his pseudo spider senses flaring, an AI supportive update on his armor. He countered with a web shot, but Lynx deflected it with her sword, spinning into a series of rapid strikes.

Viktor was impressed by her speed and precision, instead of her weapon being trap she was able to deflect. She wasn't just a gang leader—she was a trained warrior. He dodged and blocked, testing the limits of his new suit. Her blade struck his chest, but the armor absorbed the impact, the Dark Elf metal was durable way more durable than any ordinary metal that earth has to offer.

"My turn," Viktor said, activating his shocker gauntlets.

He fired a sonic blast at Lynx, the shockwave tearing through the air and sending her flying across the room. She slammed into a stack of crates, but quickly recovered, flipping back onto her feet. Viktor didn't give her a chance to regroup. He launched forward, as spider legs sprout from his back and extended, their razor-sharp tips aiming for her shoulders.

Lynx dodged two of the legs, but the third caught her side, slicing through her leather suit and drawing blood. She winced, but didn't slow down, slashing at Viktor with renewed fury. Her sword clanged against his armor, sparks flying with every strike.

Viktor could feel the thrill of the fight rising within him. He was toying with her, testing his new armor. Every time she got close, he would either parry or dodge at the last second, countering with a brutal punch or a shocker blast. Lynx was fast, but Viktor with his armored suit was faster.

Finally, he decided to end it. He caught her wrist mid-swing, twisting her arm behind her back and forcing her to drop the sword. She struggled, but Viktor's strength was too much.

Viktor stood over Lynx's limp form, his helmet's animated compound eyes narrowing with sinister satisfaction. He leaned in close to her ear, his voice dripping with dark amusement as he whispered, "Game over, darling." With a sharp flick of his wrist, he released a point-blank sonic blast from his shocker gauntlet. The force was immense, sending a powerful ripple through her body and knocking her unconscious instantly.

Straightening, Viktor surveyed the scene with a calculating gaze. His jagged, angular suit gleamed under the dim, flickering lights of the dilapidated warehouse. The four spider legs, which had pierced through his enemies' moments ago, now retracted settling into the back of his armor, folding in seamlessly. Around him, the warehouse was a grimy wasteland—crates, rusted tools, and the sharp smell of gasoline mixed with dust. A fitting stage for his brutal display of power.

"Now, let's make sure Gotham knows who runs this game," he murmured, talking more to himself than anyone else, as he often did in moments like this. His voice carried a cold edge of satisfaction.

With smooth, practiced efficiency, he shot webbing from his shooters, weaving a massive cocoon around Lynx's body, leaving only her head exposed. The webs were thick and strong, designed not just to restrain but to display. "You'll be the centerpiece, dear," Viktor chuckled darkly. His sinister pleasure was palpable as he imagined the reaction when Gotham found her like this.

With a thought, boosters from his feet and arm lit up, glowing under the dull warehouse lights due to the repulsor technology. They help him fly, lifting him effortlessly off the ground as the repulsor blast propel him upward, and then—he was gone. Viktor soared through the night at near-sonic speed, cutting through the air as the lights of Gotham City blurred beneath him.

As he approached the heart of Gotham, the imposing Gotham City Police Department loomed ahead, its gothic architecture bathed in the cold glow of streetlights. The building was a fortress of dark stone, and even at this late hour, it bustled with activity. Police cars lined the streets, their flashing red and blue lights reflecting off the rain-slicked pavement.

Viktor landed softly above the entrance, his movements ghostly and silent despite the armor he wore. From this vantage, he could see the officers below, oblivious to his presence. He went to work quickly, shooting thick strands of webbing that shimmered in the light, constructing a massive spiderweb nest. It spread across the front of the building like a dark omen. In its center, he hung Lynx, her unconscious form bound tightly, suspended like prey. Her body dangled there, helpless, caught in the intricate trap he had spun.

He added a note next to her, a detailed list of the Golden Dragon gang's crimes, meticulously outlining everything from extortion to human trafficking. Beside it, Viktor attached information on the whereabouts of the remaining members and actual evidence. "A little gift for Gotham's finest," he mused with a smirk, his satisfaction deepening as he admired his handiwork.

Stepping back, he marveled at the scene. The web was flawless, a perfect piece of macabre art. Lynx's limp body swayed slightly in the night air, her capture a statement, her fate a warning. "Perfect," Viktor whispered to himself, the arrogance and self-satisfaction of a grand puppet master radiating through his voice.

It wasn't long before onlookers noticed. The murmur of curious voices and the flash of cameras broke the silence. "Spider-Man!" someone shouted, pointing up toward the web. Others quickly followed, their excitement rising as more people gathered to witness the scene. Camera flashes illuminated the web, highlighting the dark, brutal elegance of Viktor's work.

He watched, hovering just above the crowd. His suit, black and white with sharp red spider symbols etched into it, gave him an ominous, almost monstrous appearance. "Let's see how the city reacts to this," Viktor mused, his voice low and dripping with dark amusement. He cast one final glance at Lynx, bound helplessly in the center of the web, before turning and vanishing into the night, his figure disappearing into the shadows.

The web, Lynx's body, the crime list, and the note he left hanging in front of the GCPD were now impossible to ignore. Gotham will surely not be able to dismissed his presence now.