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[Side Stories of Iam the Mentor Of Spider-Man] In the summer of the 1950s, Mark Fletcher is an ordinary high school student by day and the vigilante Nightwing by night. With school out for the summer, Mark fully embraces his role as a protector of the streets. He and his close friend Loe Halloway, also known as The New Angel, take their vacation to Chicago after hearing about women in desperate need of help who have escaped from the city and fled to New York. Initially thinking The Chicago Outfit is merely a clothing business, Mark and Loe soon discover it's a front for a dangerous mafia operation run by Alphonse Capone, the father of the infamous Albert Capone. As they delve deeper, they learn that the mafia's reach extends beyond Chicago, affecting countless lives. While their friend Michael Wilson (aka Spider-Man) is occupied with his own vigilante work elsewhere, Mark and Loe are determined to expose and dismantle the Capone family's criminal empire. Navigating Chicago during the Prohibition era, they confront ruthless gangsters, corrupt officials, and a tangled web of secrets. This is not the story of Michael Wilson. This is the story of his friend Mark Fletcher, aka Nightwing, who takes center stage as the main protagonist. Loe Halloway, as The New Angel, is the second protagonist. Together, they risk everything to bring justice to a city plagued by fear and controlled by one of the most notorious crime families in Chicago’s history.
From my spot on the rooftop, I looked down at the city below, my heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and nerves. This moment had been a long time coming, a culmination of all my hard work and preparation. I was ready for whatever lay ahead.
I shouted into the night, my voice slicing through the quiet with unwavering determination. "Alphonse Capone!!!!" The words felt like a challenge, a direct confrontation with the danger that had gripped the city. I imagined them hanging in the air, daring him to come out and face me.
And then, I saw him. Alphonse Capone emerged from the warehouse, his presence as commanding as his notorious reputation. He wore a sleek suit that oozed authority, his cold, confident smile suggesting he found my challenge as an insult.
As he stepped into the moonlight, our eyes locked. I could see the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, a frustration that I was back again. It was clear he wasn't just annoyed; he was genuinely infuriated that I had the audacity to confront him once more.
"Nightwing!!!!" His voice cut through the night, laden with a mixture of recognition and barely concealed rage. There was a dismissive quality to it, as if he saw me as a persistent thorn in his side. Yet, beneath that veneer of contempt, I could sense a flicker of intrigue.
To understand why we've come to this moment, let me take you back to the events that led up to this confrontation.
