[65] Speedblitzing Goon-ers, Unaccounted Supe Terrorist?

Peter furiously rubbed his temples, a defeated expression on his face. "Whoa, whoa, let's take it one step at a time." 

He slumped down on a nearby chair, disbelief still etched on his features. "Do you want me to believe that I could have literally neuralyzed myself into a pit of oblivion?" 

"All the happy and depressing memories, the bitter experiences I've had, the fun people I have ever met, my— my moments as Spider-Man. All of them lost due to one flash-bang from this..." Peter looked lost, his trembling finger pointing at the devilish Neuralzyer on the table. 

Joe nodded, amusement shining on his face. "It only takes one day, Pete. Only one day to lose it all." 

"This is insanely dangerous and fucked up, Joe. It's probably something that I'll never wish the bad guys to have. They would end my career," Peter groaned heavily, leaning back in his seat. 

"It's some nasty stuff, I know," Joe chuckled, removing the Ray-Ban glasses and carefully placing them in their case. At that moment, something clicked in Peter's mind as he caught sight of the glasses.

"Er, I suppose those weird glasses are like shields against the mind fuckery from the Neuralyzer." 

Joe smiled. "Something like that. Without them, even I'm not safe from being mind-warped." 

"A double-edged sword, huh?" Peter muttered while thinking. 'If Joe can also be affected by the Neuralyzer, is it possible to reverse the effects of memory isolation? Wait, could it somehow cure Alzheimer's?' 

"Is there a way to defend against the Neuralyzer without those glasses?" he asked, curiosity evident in his tone. "Knowing someone like you, it's hard to imagine you'd ever leave yourself vulnerable to such a disadvantage."

Joe lifted a brow in acknowledgment. "You thought hard. Yes, there's always a contingency." 

He pocketed his hand and, later, revealed a pen-like object that looked identical to the Neuralyzer but chunkier. 

"Meet the De-neuralyzer—the big brother. This one can reverse the negatives." Joe explained as he played with it between his fingers, causing Peter to look at him in apprehension. 

"Bro..." Peter's tone sharpened as he leaned forward, his hands tightly clasped in front of him. The tension in the air thickened.

"Who are you going to use them on? You do know that I'm a hero, right?" 

'There goes the righteousness. Peter, you're truly someone who can't leave people to suffer. You care too much. Sigh, you're a good person. However, do good people really live for long?' Joe thought, pity hidden within his expressionless face. 

"This is the only ultimatum I've reached. Sure, there are other options, but this is the only one I found bloodless," Joe calmly explained.

"You don't want unnecessary en masse killings. This..." Joe took the Neuralyzer case and dangled it between his fingers. "...is the closest thing to keeping things PG-13." 

Peter gazed at him, his current thoughts unknown. After a few seconds of weighing the pros and cons of Joe's intentions, Peter sighed heavily. 

He dramatically widened his arms, ceding to Joe's modus operandi. "Your way then. Only this time. Let's keep the matter clean and efficient as possible." 

"That's what I'm talking about. Now, why don't we get the hell out and deal with some gooners?" Joe quickly suggested. 

Peter furrowed his brows in confusion. "Gooners or goons?" 

"Gooners. Fisk's men are all wankers," Joe nonchalantly joked before pressing a button on his watch that gradually restructured his clothes. 

Peter watched in awe, his mouth forming a silent 'O' as Joe stood before him, draped in majestic all-black attire... complete with a cape.

"Batman?" Peter nearly freaked out in excitement. 

"I'm Batman," Joe comically declared, his voice gruff and depressed like the OG. 

Peter rose from his seat, his eyes shining like an innocent child. "H-How did you...?" 

"I played around with nanotech a bit. How's the nerfed molecular rearrangement?" Joe inquired as he returned to his casual clothes. 

"It's marvelous. Phenomenal. Man, just how long have you been cooking these goodies?" Peter replied enthusiastically.

"That's a story for another day." Joe patted Peter's shoulder and walked past him. He took out a black mask with red highlights on its surface. Medium-sized horns jutted from its upper surface, adding to its menacing aura. It looked terrifying, like a mix of Oni and draconic features. He had designed it like Cha Yeon-Woo's mask. (For reference, Yeon-Woo is the main character from Second Life Ranker.)

Joe had 3D-printed it with meticulous precision, ensuring its structure was far from mere plastic. The mask could easily deflect headshots, even though he was nearly invulnerable. But that wasn't the mask's strong point—it could isolate telepathic interferences and psychic probes. It could theoretically simulate a pseudo, anti-psychic field through electromagnetism. As for how strong it was against extremely powerful telepaths, Joe honestly didn't know. 

'Eric, you can't metal bend out of this one. This is the real blue ball to Xavier's rape fest.' A smug smile spread his lips as he put on the mask.

"Here we go again with the mysteries. Color me impressed, son of the mask," Peter commented, humor dripping from his voice. He then shook his head. "You are not him, bro." 

"Work on the bile overload, bastard," Joe snickered, playfully slapping the back of Peter's head. 

"Let's roll." 

Peter pursed his lips, reining his emotions as he mentally prepared himself for the operation. 

There was no turning back. 

***

Two silhouettes stood atop Fisk's building, seamlessly merging with the shadows. The cold wind swept past Joe as a chorus of distant voices filled his ears—voices of the city, of those most active beneath the veil of night.

Peter sized up the tight security at the entrance, proving that Fisk didn't leave things to chance. He was thorough. 

"Dang, it's so tight," Peter whispered. 

"Your boxer or the security?" Joe glanced at him through his mask. 

"Both," Peter said in an embarrassed tone. "I'm hella nervous, man." 

"First time partnering up with someone?" 

"Yep. Are you sure everything's gonna go smoothly? You know I'm worried you might go batshit crazy with your superspeed. All that speed momentum could statistically turn a normie into blood rain." 

"Relax. The psycho mode is off. And I'm not turning it on anytime soon, I hope." 

"I hope so," Peter said worriedly. 

"I'll head out first. See if you can catch up on these wheels, boy," Joe mocked him before blurring out of existence. 

Before Peter could even finish blinking, the nearest three guards were knocked out cold by an unseen assailant. There was no sound, no resistance, no nothing. It was just a clean execution of restraint and control. 

"Show off. Leave some for me too," Peter murmured begrudgingly, smirking beneath his mask before swinging down. 

"Woohoo, guys, guess who's owning you tonight? It's me, Spider-Man!" Peter, as always, didn't mute himself as he spun his web around three small fries and mushed them together. 

'A fucking gay scenario even in a serious situation? Pete, can you stop playing around? Now our operation is no longer covert.' Joe clicked his tongue as he made a zigzag past multiple goons. With each of his moves, unconscious bodies would litter the ground. The assaulted couldn't even process who their enemy was. 

The sight silenced Peter for a moment, astonished by the sheer speed Joe displayed. He couldn't follow Joe's movements, however, he could track the bodies as they fell to the ground.

'That's fucking fast. My spidey senses would have a difficult time saving me from that one. There's even a chance of being one-shotted if I get caught by surprise,' Peter analyzed and simultaneously webbed two goons onto a wall. 'Truly ridiculous.' 

"You are making me look sloppy, sidekick," Peter yelled over his shoulder as he performed a spinning hook kick that threw a sneaky goon off the radar. 

"Damnit, can you stop yapping those stupid one-liners? Who's the sidekick here?" Joe abruptly halted and began scolding Spidey. He had held it in for quite some time. 

"We are not the same," Joe shut him down before darting inside the building, incapacitating anyone on his way. "Be thankful we are on the same side."

'A Xianxia character would have handled this differently for sure. They would have brutally but efficiently uprooted the problem from the roots, hehe. Those bastards are the real owners of mental asylums. It's a good thing the Super USB Drive isn't connected to a Cultivation universe.' Joe let his mind wander a bit. Some milliseconds later, he found himself stopping before a huge door. 

Even though he didn't have x-ray vision, he could still sense the armed men behind those thick doors. And they were...

'Campers! Fucking campers even in the Marvel Universe. It reminds me of the bots I dealt with in COD's Battle Royale.' Joe donned a reminiscent smile at his memories. 

'It's a pity. I don't have to care about campers anymore. I can go wild now.' 

"Hey, whatcha waiting for?" Peter murmured as he silently arrived. 

"I smell two people with distinctive scents on them. The scents are nauseating and pungent, reeking of blood and corpses. Elite killers. That means..." 

"We have two superhumans waiting for us. Fisk prepared himself pretty quickly. How resourceful." 

Peter's eyes narrowed as he shot Joe a sideways glance. "It will be tough, but I trust your ability, mate."

"Your trust is not misplaced. I'll deal with the supes. You deal with the crumbs," Joe smirked as he delegated their tasks. 

"Dude?!" Peter whisper-shouted, raising his arms dramatically. 

Joe briefly chuckled and said, "It's time to go ultra." 

Apart from Bullseye and Kingpin himself, who was the other superhuman in the room that he didn't account for from his investigative data?

There was only one way to find out. 

***

[Words 1630]

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