Still crouched low on the villa's roof, the red glow of Detective Mode pulsing faintly across his vision, Spider-Man didn't move for another ten seconds. See, for this past hour, aside from waiting for Bruce, he determined the other methods of security. Mainly, lasers.
They were everywhere and they did not discriminate. There was a reason the guards had a specific patrol.
'I have two methods: either EMPs and disabling the whole network or Matrixing my way through and going invisible.' Then he said in his head, 'Herbie. We are beginning. Prioritize stealth, zero civilian casualties, and minimal trace evidence.'
Across his HUD, lines began forming—neon blue trajectories, guard movement projections, sensor arcs, drone sweeps. A latticework of possibilities mapped themselves onto the building.
The third-floor war room where Hammerhead and Killmonger were in had an additional room that appeared like a combination of a library and storage room. It seemed important and could be important evidence-wise.
After the attack on Creature Z, New York was left devastated, law force was weakened, and the blood, scales, and saliva of the monster was sold on the black market for the highest bidder. The Scorpion used to be the biggest. Not anymore.
Now, it was a group known as the Emporium.
Felix and Herbie were able to pinpoint the location of the Emporium black market via the satellites of Master Control. But as to who ran the Emporium black market was unknown to him. At least for now.
More important than the identity of the Emporium's creator was evidence of its existence. The Maggia had strong ties to it. Hell, most countries had ties to the Emporium. Somehow, they were able to collect up as much of Creature Z's blood and scales as the government. Cold logic alone dictated there must have been a traitor in all the chaos. Record books adjusted.
If Spider-Man wanted to catch the Emporium, he had to plan ahead. He had to ransack the Maggia storage room. See if they left physical records behind.
'Because from what I'm seeing, everything in there is not digital.'
The rooftop loft was covered in black glass. A customized addition so that drones couldn't spy on Hammerhead. As a matter of fact, X-ray vision didn't work on the glass either. Neither did thermal vision. The custom black glass absorbed heat. It took a third, rarer type of vision to crack the rooftop loft: a mix of MRI and ultrasound technology. Complicated stuff; point was that it worked and Spider-Man could see Hammerhead and Killmonger talking in what should be an impossible setting.
The war room itself was high-ceilinged, octagonal, with the black glass forming a panoramic view of the estate. From the outside, it was impossible to peer through. From the inside, it was heaven. Felix already figured out the creator of the glass: Bruce Banner. He saw it in one of his instructions from Hammerhead.
At the center of the war room stood a long obsidian table embedded with a holographic projection grid. Dozens of maps, shipment routes, and genetic logs flickered and rotated lazily.
Hammerhead sat at one end—his usual shark-eyed sneer spread wide as he sipped from a crystal glass. Broad-shouldered, in a loud pinstripe suit, and very much the same brutish enforcer he'd always been—but now richer and more connected bolder since last year. Ah, and right, his huge metal head. Couldn't forget about that.
Across from him, in a dark leather coat draped over tactical gear, sat Killmonger. Lean muscle, golden scars, and the same cold fire in his eyes. He drank. He blinked. He smiled. Killmonger was all confident.
Spider-Man crawled like a shadow above them. The black glass should have let them see any drone or person that dared to spy on them. But Spider-Man was invisible. Spider-Man could not be seen.
'CONFIRMED: SUBJECT HAMMERHEAD. 68% VOCAL PATTERNS MATCH TO RECENT MAGGIA BLACK MARKET DATA LEAKS. UPLOADING.' Uploaded. 'KILLMONGER AFFILIATION TAGGED: STARK-REGISTERED OPERATIVE. 92% LIKELIHOOD RESPONSIBLE FOR NAIROBI THEFTS.'
His eyes had already locked onto something else. Not in the war room but behind the war room. The room of cabinets and secrets and bookshelves. The room that seemed oh-so strange and out of place. 'Must be a century of Maggia and Mafia history in there.'
And guess what?
In the villa, there were a total of three vents. One on each floor. One that was connected to the history room.
Spider-Man crawled across the glass ceiling, skipped over to the next section, and opened up the vent. He crawled and crawled until he dropped onto the private records room connected just off the war chamber. It was a surprisingly long drop. Almost thirty feet high.
He maintained his invisibility even though he was safe here. Just in case. He was curious too. His finger ran along the bookshelves. The cabinets were pressed to the back of the room, the bookshelves were to the west wall, and the drawers were on the east side. In the very center of everything was a huge, towering structure of cabinets and drawers. A ladder was attached in order for a person to go around the tower.
No wonder the fall took so long.
'Judging by the dust, Hammerhead comes here but doesn't allow anyone in.'
Spider-Man stopped. With needle-like precision, his eyes noticed something between two random books on the bookshelves. A black box with yellow and red buttons and a green old-school screen.
'Holy shit, it's a pager. This is super old. Not even early 2000s or 1990s—I'm talking 1960s or maybe even 50s! I wonder…'
He pocketed the pager in his utility belt and decided to do something a bit unorthodox and actually read some of the books here.
'This is interesting. The Maggia originally started off in the seventeenth century as a hospital. They were able to recruit members by offering them free aid. When they gained their trust, they asked them to join as enforcers. They were able to resist the local government this way and at some point they were forced to appease them. The earliest pager models were sent to the Maggia in Italy in the 1950s. I wonder…'
Flip, flip. He went through books and pages. The Maggia grew and grew until they were able to establish hospitals in other countries. First the United States, then France.
Even..
'Korea.'
He decided to go to the cabinets in back of the room. He swung one open and then another and another. The cabinets largely contained letters and were organized by date. He decided to go way back to some of the earliest letters.
Eventually, a sealed envelope marked CONFIDENZA STORICA caught his eye.
He opened the envelope. Each letter was handwritten, translated into both Korean and Italian, with stamped seals from two groups: the Maggia and the Moon Company.
Letter One – 1972
FROM: Chairman Moon Gi-Taek, The Moon Company
TO: Don Matteo Ragazzi, The Maggia Syndicate
"My brother in ambition,
As the Cold War thickens, both sides stockpile fire without fire. The Americans want missiles with invisible engines. The Russians ask for chemical storms. We oblige them both—but what if they never fight? Then we are left with arsenals and no customers.
I propose this: a quiet alliance. We build for both, yes, but we store for ourselves. One day, power will not belong to governments, but to those who own the shadows behind them.
You have Europe's trade. We control East Asia's ports. Together, we don't sell weapons to nations—we sell them to kings without crowns."
Letter Two – 1977
FROM: Don Matteo Ragazzi, The Maggia Syndicate
TO: Chairman Moon Gi-Taek, The Moon Company
"The Americans smiled and shook our hands last week, then ordered three bombers under the table. You were right.
We will follow your plan. Factories have been assigned under different names. Italian steel flows east. Your tech flows west. We are not dealers. We are architects. However, your advice on the 'black network' in Seoul intrigues me. We've not yet cracked the West. You dominate the East.
We appreciate your wisdom. We will do anything for it."
Letter Three – 1981
FROM: Chairman Moon Gi-Taek
TO: Don Matteo Ragazzi
"To deepen this union, I send you a boy. My protégé. He is strong, but he must learn the art of influence. You call him Hammerhead now—I called him Baek-Hyun.
Raise him. Let him learn how you command the West. In return, I will foster your nephew here in Busan.
This is not a trade. This is family."
Letter Four – 1991
FROM: Don Matteo Ragazzi
TO: Chairman Moon Gi-Taek
"The boy you sent us has grown into a hammer without hesitation. He carves out space with fear, not words. But sometimes, fear is all we need.
Our empire has gone quiet in the chaos of peace. No war. No bidding. Only markets. But we endure.
If this world will not burn on its own, we will sell it the matches. Forever."
Felix finished reading, letting the brittle paper settle into his fingertips. He glanced at the pager again.
He understood what the pager was.
'MODEL 1976 NXT-PAGER. ENCODED. STILL FUNCTIONAL. USED FOR COLD WAR INTER-GANG SIGNALING. UNIQUE SIGNATURE: MOON COMPANY + MAGGIA LINK AUTHORIZATION.'
This was how Cindy Moon and Hammerhead communicated. Using technology that was so damn old that even Herbie couldn't detect it. They didn't store data. And the signal was so weak and took so long that nobody noticed.
Hammerhead and Cindy Moon shared a special familial bond, it seemed. Felix did wonder about Baek-Hyun, the Korean Hammerhead. What happened to him?
The cabinets were for letters. To find a report for something like that, he had to go to the drawers where the folders were. He dashed over and his fingers flicked and read through each and every one of them.
"Hospital records. Where are you…?"
Ah, there.
And his instincts were correct.
[[ CONFIDENTIAL MEDICAL RECORD
SEOUL GENERAL HOSPITAL – MILITARY WING
PATIENT FILE #7749-A
DATE: October 3, 1987
SECURITY CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET – INTERNAL USE ONLY
AUTHORIZED BY: Moon Company / Maggia Liaison Office
PATIENT NAME:
Joseph Martello(aka "Hammerhead Prime")
Affiliation: Maggia Syndicate, Italy
SECONDARY PATIENT NAME:
Baek-Hyun Moon(aka "Korean Hammerhead")
Affiliation: Moon Company, South Korea
INCIDENT REPORT:
At 03:44 KST, both subjects were transported to Seoul General Military Wing following a coordinated assassination attempt during a covert weapons summit hosted by the Moon Company. The attack, suspected to be the result of an internal betrayal within the Busan arm of the operation, left both men critically wounded by explosive shrapnel and sustained blunt-force trauma.
Baek-Hyun Moon suffered extensive internal bleeding and spinal damage. He was declared brain dead at 05:12 KST. Life support was terminated at the request of Chairman Moon Gi-Taek. Body transferred to family custody.
Joseph Martello, while surviving the blast, received catastrophic cranial trauma: Skull fractures extending from frontal bone through parietal plate; Brain swelling and partial detachment of the left orbital ridge; Memory and motor function degradation noted during initial triage
SURGICAL RECOMMENDATION:
Due to the scale of cranial damage, traditional surgery was deemed insufficient for recovery. Under direct authorization from the Moon Company and Maggia liaison teams, the following procedure was undertaken:
Codename:Operative: Anvil
Procedure: Cranioplasty with Secondary Vibranium Composite Grafting
Materials Used: Secondary Adamantium, Alloy, Carbon-fiber lattice scaffolding, Neural-mesh conductive gel (prototype)
POST-OP NOTES:
"Patient Joseph Martello has survived a procedure that would have killed any civilian subject. The alloy integrated into his skull has rendered his cranial structure nearly indestructible. His new nickname among Maggia ranks—Hammerhead—is no longer metaphorical. He is more weapon than man now."
— Dr. Sang-Hoon Park, Lead Surgeon, Moon Company Black Medical Unit
CURRENT STATUS:
Subject discharged under Moon Company custody. Relocated to Sicily three months later to resume Maggia operations. Surveillance recommended due to erratic behavioral changes.
FILE SEALED. ]]
"So that's his little sob story," Spider-Man muttered, "and how he became what he is. How he owes his life to Cindy Moon."
He looked to the one door hiding him away from Hammerhead and Killmonger. Upon a closer look, the lock was very sophisticated and, like everything else here, old school. Whatever, he'd figure it out later. His lenses shifted and he went back to the rest of the room.
Hammerhead's old school ways were a thorn in his side. He kept everything not digital but in papers. Hence the fax machine's presence here. Hence the old world paper and ink. He was a classic mafia boss.
It didn't take long to find the folders Spider-Man needed, however. To the far left was where he placed their most recent objectives: Vibranium Trade Routes. Confirmed sales, dates, buyers. Many names redacted. Others… shockingly intact.
Mentions of Creature Z. Lots of mentions of Creature Z. He snapped photos using his lenses. He closed the final folder and snapped the final pics. He was already getting them printed on his private jet.
Spider-Man put the folder back in and decided to head to the last source of information: the tower. Decked with cabinets and drawers, it was the ultimate recording of the Maggia's past. Spider-Man did not need the latter. With a combination of X-ray vision, he was able to locate and ignore what was unnecessary. He crawled and crawled and got to the very top.
"Interesting."
A vault. That was what lay at the very top. There were four of them, technically, but the others were just filled with Vibranium, Adamantium, and gold. They were back-ups, put simply.
But this vault facing north was different. There wasn't metal inside. There was a letter. Spider-Man placed all five fingers onto the rotary combination lock. He slowly turned it with his fingers. Click. Click. Click.
He took two attempts. This old-school box-shaped vault was made of Secondary Adamantium. Smashing it into pieces was possible but noisy. So like a highschooler, he listened to the clicks. He found click after click and…
There.
The vault was unlocked. Inside, a folder labelled: "PROJECT SIX SIX SIX". The label was handwritten. Red ink. Slight smudge along the corner. Felix opened it.
Printed dossiers. Names. Genetic profiles. Mission plans. All revolving around five men: Bruce Banner, Hammerhead, Daredevil, The Scorpion/Jefferson Davis, Cindy Moon, and…
Huh?
The last name was scratched out violently in black marker. Herbie scanned for indentation.
'SCANNING… PRESSURE PATTERN ANALYSIS SUGGESTS SCRATCHED NAME: DEVIL. STATUS: UNKNOWN.'
'Devil? What?' Spider-Man brow tightened. 'Cindy… What the hell are you planning?'
PROJECT SIX SIX SIX from what he read was a jailbreak operation. Every person picked and described in the folder was designed to counter SHIELD defenses from the inside.
Cindy Moon and Matt Murdock were locked in SHIELD's most secure prison but judging by this folder…not for long. Spidey sealed the vault without putting it back inside.
'This isn't something the police can't stop. I can leave everything else to them but this folder stays with me.'
Riiiip! Rip, rip, rip!
He ripped the folder up piece by piece and then incinerated it with his lightning. Copies were already being made at all his hideouts and burned into his memory and Herbie's.
He dropped down the tower, landing on all fours, and then approached the door. Aside from the vent and the main stairwell, there was no other way to stealthily approach the war room.
He stopped. Behind the door, the conversation had shifted.
Hammerhead laughed, slapping the table. "That little purple plant—whatever the hell it is—goes for seven million an ounce now. You serious about the price?"
Killmonger leaned forward, smirking. "You want it moved, that's the number. Secure vault, GPS-scrambled transport, no surface route. Same with the core."
Hammerhead grinned. "Right, the plutonium nuclear core. Didn't realize you and Stark were in the planet-cracking business."
Killmonger gave a small, humorless chuckle. "We're not cracking planets."
"Haah? What else are ya gonna do with dat firepower?"
Killmonger grinned.
"We're planning to destroy a kaiju."
Hammerhead blinked. "You mean the lizard freak? Creature Z?"
"Still in orbit," Killmonger replied, tapping the table. "Still alive. Stark's been losing sleep. He's building something new—calls it the Anti-Gamma Bomb. Says it's the only way to vaporize that thing if it reenters."
Hammerhead scoffed. "It's about the blood, isn't it? Everyone's panicking over blood. You know how much just a liter of Z's blood goes for now?"
Killmonger snickered. "Nah, man, nah. It's not about the market. Stark doesn't care about profits. Not this time." He crossed his legs. "He's scared. Genuinely. Scared shitless. A giant monster floating above the Earth, watching us all, and we can't touch it? That keeps him up at night. He doesn't want control. He wants it gone. It's why he's paying me—"
Killmonger stopped.
Creeeeak!
The door opened.
"Uh, big head," Killmonger called out, a hand instinctively going to the gun on his thigh belt, "is that door supposed to open?"
Hammerhead slowly rose and turned. "It ain't. Supposed to be impossible get into." He tapped at the breast pocket on his heart's side. The key was still there. Nobody stole it so nobody could have opened it.
That door was impossible to open, inside or out.
The door hit the wall.
Nothing walked out.
ZZZZZZZZZAK.
A violent surge of electricity lanced through Killmonger's body. Spider-Man discharged into Killmonger's neck and the base of his spine, two fingers of each hand digging in at the specified area. The mercenary spasmed once, twice, mouth frozen mid-word, and collapsed forward like a puppet with its strings cut.
He never got a punch in.
Spider-Man, the Superior Spider-Man, flickered into visibility behind him. The symbiote suit reconfigured instantly, his red-marked mask locking down over his face as his white lenses narrowed.
'One down.'
Hammerhead jerked around just in time to see the black-suited figure standing over Killmonger's unconscious form.
His eyes went wide with pure, primal fear.
"No—"
But it was too late.
Spider-Man was already on him.
Thoom.
He struck like black lightning—one arm wrapping around Hammerhead's throat, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. The hulking mob boss kicked, wheezed, fingers clawing at Felix's forearm, but the grip only tightened.
Hammerhead's hand darted to the right breast pocket of his jacket, fingers trembling as they brushed the hidden self-destruct device sewn into the lining.
It was already gone.
Spider-Man held it up calmly in his other hand. He crushed it slowly, the metal crumpling like paper between his fingers, then tossed it aside.
"Don't bother," Spider-Man said, voice metallic through the modulated mask. Hammerhead gurgled, eyes bloodshot.
"Y-y-you…!" Spider-Man squeezed tighter. Hammerhead choked out, "S-s-so the rumours are true! The spider only speaks when he is to inflict judgement! D-death!"
"Project Sinister Six. I know about Cindy Moon's ultimate plan. A collection of super powered criminals created for the sole purpose of breaking Cindy Moon and her cohorts out of SHIELD. Bruce Banner, you Hammerhead, Daredevil, the Scorpion Jefferson Davis, and Cindy herself."
Spider-Man tilted his head slowly, like a predator inspecting a wounded animal.
"I do wonder… who is the missing man? Who is this devil?"
Hammerhead gasped and spat at him. Black Symbiote tendrils caught the spit and threw it right back at him. "Like I'll tell you bastard!"
Spider-Man stared up at him. A long, long pause went by. "Like you would know anyway."
Hammerhead's face twisted in confusion. Spider-Man leaned in.
"Only Cindy Moon and Matt Murdock know. They kept this secret member hidden… even from the rest of you. Right?"
That hit.
The flicker of truth behind Hammerhead's eyes—recognition and resentment. He had been left out.
"I've decided to keep Killmonger alive. He's needed for Stark's trial. But you? I've gotten everything I needed from you. The only thing valuable about you is what's inside your skull."
Hammerhead roared and slammed his forehead against his.
Spider-Man didn't even flinch.
"Goodnight, Hammerhead. You, this villa, and everything you've ever worked for is going to disappear after today."
He snapped his neck and the Maggia were no more.