Chapter 15: Into the Shadows of the Hand

The city never slept, and neither did Alex.

The events of the last encounter still weighed heavily on his mind, even though the adrenaline had long since worn off. Whoever those mercenaries were, they had come prepared. And not just for Tony Stark—they were ready for anything, which made them dangerous. Alex had barely escaped that rooftop with his life. It was becoming painfully clear: surviving in this world would require more than just powers. He needed to be smarter. He needed information, connections, resources.

And that's when he first heard about The Hand.

It started as a whisper, overheard during one of his nightly patrols. He had taken to scanning the streets from the rooftops, blending into the shadows as Spider-Man's powers made him almost invisible in the dark. A few low-level thugs, talking about an underground group, a dangerous organization that controlled parts of the city without anyone knowing it.

"They're everywhere, man. You don't mess with the Hand unless you've got a death wish."

That piqued his interest. The Hand was notorious in the comics. An ancient order of ninja assassins that dealt in shadow operations, assassinations, and other nefarious acts. They were ruthless, secretive, and deadly. And most importantly—they had information. If anyone knew what was going on in New York's underbelly, it was the Hand.

But seeking them out wasn't just risky—it was insane.

Alex crouched on a rooftop, looking over the dark streets below. His mind raced, weighing his options. This wasn't like stopping a mugging or catching some petty criminals. The Hand operated in secrecy, and getting involved with them could open a whole new can of worms.

But at the same time, it was also an opportunity. If he could get close to the Hand, learn from them, maybe even find a way to stay ahead of whoever was pulling the strings behind those mercenaries, it would be worth the risk. His Spider-Sense hadn't gone off all night, but that didn't stop the gnawing feeling in his gut.

He had no choice.

---

It took him a few nights, scouring the city, trailing low-level criminals who whispered about dealings with the Hand. Finally, after days of careful observation and relentless patience, Alex found what he was looking for.

A nondescript warehouse in Hell's Kitchen. The type of place that looked abandoned from the outside but had a steady flow of unmarked vans coming and going at odd hours. He watched from a distance, his enhanced senses picking up the subtle movements of guards patrolling the perimeter. They weren't amateurs. The way they moved, the precision—they were trained.

The Hand.

Alex took a deep breath. If he was going to do this, he had to be careful. The last thing he needed was to draw their attention too early. He climbed down the side of the building he had been watching from, using his webs to lower himself silently to the ground. With Spider-Man's agility and stealth, he moved like a shadow, darting between alleyways and dark corners until he was within range of the warehouse.

He perched on the edge of a nearby building, watching the entrance. Two guards, dressed in all black, stood by the main door. No visible weapons, but he knew better. They were probably armed to the teeth, and even without guns, the Hand's warriors were deadly with just their fists.

Alex had an idea. It was risky, but it might work. He needed to make an entrance—but not as a hero.

He waited until one of the unmarked vans pulled up to the warehouse. As the driver got out and opened the back, Alex made his move. He shot a web, yanking himself toward the van and landing silently on top of it. The driver never even noticed.

From his vantage point, Alex could hear the muffled conversation between the guards and the driver.

"Package for the boss," the driver grunted, unloading a large, black duffel bag.

The guards nodded, stepping aside to let him through. Alex slipped off the roof of the van, clinging to the shadows as he followed the driver inside. The warehouse was dimly lit, with rows of crates stacked against the walls. Armed men patrolled the area, their faces obscured by masks. It was like stepping into another world—one where violence and death were currency.

Alex's Spider-Sense tingled, though not in an urgent way. It was a low hum, like a warning that he was entering dangerous territory. He kept his distance, moving silently along the rafters above, watching as the driver handed over the duffel bag to a man sitting at a large metal table.

The man at the table was clearly in charge. He had an air of authority, and the way the others deferred to him made it clear he was someone important. His face was partially obscured by shadows, but Alex could make out the tattoos snaking up his arms—markings that belonged to the Hand.

The leader unzipped the duffel bag, revealing stacks of cash, neatly packed and organized.

"Good. The shipment arrives tomorrow night," the leader said in a cold, clipped voice. "We'll be ready."

Alex's heart raced. Shipment? What were they planning? Drugs? Weapons? Something worse?

He had to find out more, but just as he was about to move closer, his Spider-Sense flared—sharp and urgent this time. He froze, listening, his muscles tensing as footsteps approached.

"Who's there?" a voice called out, low but firm.

Damn. He'd been too focused on the leader. Someone must have spotted him. Alex didn't move, keeping himself pressed against the rafters, barely daring to breathe.

Two men walked underneath him, their eyes scanning the shadows.

"We've got an intruder," one of them said into a radio.

Alex's mind raced. He needed to get out, but if he moved too quickly, they'd spot him for sure. He could fight his way out, but that would blow any chance he had of learning more. He couldn't afford to attract more attention.

The leader stood up, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the room.

"Search the area," he ordered. "I want whoever is here found. Now."

The guards spread out, their movements sharp and precise. Alex's heart pounded in his chest. He needed a distraction, something to draw their attention away from him.

He glanced around, spotting a small stack of metal pipes leaning against one of the walls. It wasn't much, but it would do. He shot a web at the pipes and yanked them down, sending them crashing to the ground.

The noise echoed through the warehouse, and immediately, the guards rushed toward the sound.

Alex took the opportunity. With a swift, silent motion, he swung from the rafters, landing near an exit at the back of the warehouse. He slipped out into the night, disappearing into the shadows just as the guards reached the fallen pipes.

Once he was a safe distance away, he stopped to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the close call. He hadn't learned much, but he had a lead—a shipment, arriving tomorrow night. Whatever it was, the Hand was involved, and that meant it was big.

He needed more information, and fast. If he could disrupt their plans, he'd earn more points. But he also had to be careful. The Hand wasn't an enemy he could take lightly with his current abilities.

Alex's system panel blinked to life again, a notification appearing in front of him.

Points earned: 10 Total Points: 40

It wasn't much, but it was a start. He was getting closer to the Platinum Wheel, inch by inch. But with the Hand involved, the stakes had just gotten a lot higher.

Alex looked out over the city, the weight of his choices settling on his shoulders. He was in deep now, and there was no turning back.

Tomorrow night, everything could change.