Distributor

On November 1st, the day after Halloween, the city of Gotham began entering a period of recovery. Those who were consumed by the Scarecrow candy had finally broken out of their trance, most of them having almost no memory of what happened. All they could recall was that they were seeing their deepest, darkest fears unfolding before their very eyes.

After saving as many lives as he could, Peter spent the rest of the night studying samples from the Scarecrow candy itself and the brain matter he collected from one of the candy's victims.

"Master Peter... Have you been awake all this time?" Alfred was getting worried. Peter hadn't slept in days, yet there he was obsessing over his work.

"I don't need sleep. I need to understand how this candy works."

"And have you any understanding of it now?"

"It changes one's brain chemistry. The amygdala becomes so enhanced and whoever consumes this candy begins to replay whatever traumas they've experienced in their life. It's why so many people turned into killers... Victims of assault and abuse saw their abusers in the ones they attacked, thinking they were doing nothing more than defending themselves."

Alfred couldn't help but imagine what he would see if he consumed a Scarecrow candy. His mind then shifted to what Peter would see if he consumed it. If he were to confront the one responsible, what would happen to Spider-Man, he wondered.

"The manufacturer isn't on the label, but since manufacturers package their products in the same place, I was able to find traces of other candies and narrow down who manufactured them: Papa Choca's."

Peter stood up and began making his way over to his costume. He looked exhausted, walking as if his body was being controlled by a puppet master on strings. Piece by piece he put on his costume, and Alfred already knew that he wouldn't be able to stop him. 

"Will you be home by lunch?" 

"Maybe, but don't keep yourself waiting."

Spider-Man left the Wayne estate and eventually found himself perched on a building, looking down at Papa Choca's itself. They made some of the most popular chocolate candies in Gotham, so there were already multiple investigators there for questioning. 

Spider-Man and the police didn't have a good relationship for obvious reasons, so he opted to enter through the vents. As he crawled his way through the factory, he could hear the cops questioning the employees but heard nothing of note.

He eventually ended up outside the office of the factory. He looked through the vent to see a few cops searching the room, but it appeared as if they were struggling to find anything. At the center of the room, one cop was questioning the owner, so Spider-Man took a listen for himself.

"I have no clue what you're talking about! We had nothing to do with these Scarecrows! Do you see my name on the label?"

"No, sir. We do not. However, you manufacture most of the chocolate that goes out to retailers. We're just doing our jobs."

"Well, you're doing a bad job at it!"

"We'll get out of your way soon enough, sir. If you did nothing wrong, then you have nothing to worry about, right?"

The man scoffed and the police continued their search. Spider-Man continued to watch from the vent for almost half an hour before the police finally left. Once there was no one left but the owner, he closed the door to his office and sat in his chair. 

"Suckers."

The moment those words left his mouth, Spider-Man kicked the vent cover and it slammed onto the owner's desk. The owner jolted and looked up to see Spider-Man dropping down and landing on his desk. 

Spider-Man's trenchcoat settled behind him as he slowly looked up at the owner with fury-filled eyes visible beneath his scratched goggles. "You manufactured the Scarecrow candy. Why!?"

The owner scoffed and turned his nose up to the clad-in-black vigilante. "I have not a clue what you are talking about."

Spider-Man jumped from the desk and picked up the owner by the throat with a single hand before pressing him up against the wall. "I found traces of YOUR candy on them. This means the Scarecrow candies were packaged HERE! Tell me, or I'll start breaking things!"

The owner had a smug smile on his face. Despite Spider-Man towering over him and having seemingly inhuman strength, he showed not an ounce of fear. "Go ahead, everything in this office is replaceable."

"I wasn't talking about your office. I was talking about you."

Spider-Man broke one of the fingers of the owner, a small price that someone involved in the deaths of thousands would have to suffer for his crimes. The owner let out a heartwrenching below before he began spewing bullshit at the Spider.

"I don't have anything to do with it! I swear!"

"You lie!" Spider-Man once again broke another one of the owner's fingers before slamming him into the table. "I did a background check on you. Based on your education, there's no way you created something so complex on your own. I know you're the distributor and I know you must be covering for someone! Who!"

Spider-Man stomped on the man's chest and began pressing his foot downward onto it. He began to cough and hold Spider-Man's boot, using his nails to dig into it as he tried pulling it off. "I don't-"

"Enough lies!" Spider-Man pressed down even harder. "I have enough evidence to deliver to the police and frame YOU as the sole perpetrator. You will spend the rest of your life in prison. My boot reaching the far ends of your ass will be the least fo your worries. Is that what you want!?"

"I don't- know- his-" The owner was struggling to speak due to the pressure on his chest, so Spider-Man let up.

"You don't know his what?"

"His name. He didn't tell me. He offered me a sum of cash to distribute his candy so I did. Some kind of doctor, he said. He said he wanted to test the psychological effects of his candy." 

"So you KNEW he was going to drug the entire city and you just let it happen!" Spider-Man pressed his foot down once more.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know people were going to die!"

"What else can you tell me about him!?" 

"I heard him mention something about a seminar! That's all! I swear!"

Spider-Man clenched his fist before bending over and punching the man in the face with enough force to knock him out cold. He brought the evidence with him and laid it on the table before calling the police.

Once they arrived, they found the owner still knocked out on the ground and the proof that he distributed the candy. He was quickly arrested and his factory was shut down. 

Peter soon went back to his cave and began researching psychology seminars in Gotham, seeing that there would be one in just a few days on November 3rd. 

This has to be it.

The one responsible for all of that bloodshed...

He has to be there.

Spider-Man can't do everything.

No, this time, it'll be up to Peter Wayne to make an appearance.

I'll find out who did this.

And I will stop them.