*Do you want the next chapter [Chikara Dojo – Part 2] to come out later today? Then you already know… drop your Power Stones so I know 👀🔥*
***
Twenty minutes had passed since Peter Parker had left the room, but, for J. Jonah Jameson, it felt like much more. He had remained still behind his desk the entire time, his eyes fixed on the wall as if it had committed some personal crime against him.
The calm silence in the office contrasted with the chaos boiling inside him, a mixture of frustration, disbelief, and something even worse: the clear sensation that he had been made a fool of within his own territory.
Jameson was a volcano on the verge of erupting, even though he had already gone through several stages of anger. The first, pure fury, came the moment Parker opened his mouth to ask for more money. The second, indignation, came when he realized the kid had backed him into a corner as if he were an amateur. The third, cold hatred, came when he signed the check and saw Parker leave with that poorly concealed smile on his face.
No one, absolutely no one, had made a fool of him like that in a long time—that damned masked man who insisted on turning everything into a spectacle didn't count! Only normal people!
This would not stand. Certainly not. He needed to teach Parker a lesson in humility. A lesson the kid would never forget. Something that would make him remember he was just one among thousands.
Jameson took a deep breath, an idea forming in his head as he moved his hand, grabbing the phone on the desk with more force than necessary. He dialed his secretary without even looking, his jaw clenched. After two rings, Betty's voice came through the line, cautious and professional.
"Yes?"
"Send Mac Gargan to my office," Jameson ordered, in a flat tone, too controlled to be natural. He placed the phone back down before Betty could respond.
After another five minutes of waiting, Mac Gargan walked into the room with a wide smile, his shoulders raised and the confident stride of someone bringing good news. "Hey boss, I've got good news—"
"Sit down," Jameson interrupted, dryly, without even looking directly at him. "And stop talking for a minute."
Gargan's smile faltered. It didn't disappear completely, but it lost strength, becoming stiff. He pulled the chair in front of the desk and sat down, slightly tense, like someone who realized too late that he had walked into the wrong room at the wrong time.
Jameson interlaced his fingers on the desk, resting his elbows on the surface, finally looking at him. "Tell me, Mac Gargan," he began, his voice still in that dangerously calm tone. "What did I send you to do in the past few weeks?"
Sensing the danger in the question, Mac Gargan answered promptly, "Get photos of Spider-Man."
"And did you get any photos of Spider-Man?" Jameson asked with false doubt, narrowing his eyes.
Mac Gargan swallowed dryly. "B-boss, he hasn't been active—" He cut himself off, perking up as he remembered why he had been happy when he entered the room. "But I got information from reliable sources that he came back yesterday, so I—"
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I ASKED!" Jameson shouted, letting some of the anger bubbling inside him spill out.
"No, sir. I didn't get any photos," Mac Gargan answered in a low voice, his face going pale.
Jameson leaned back in his chair, letting out a snort through his nose. "You are one of the most incompetent people I have had the displeasure of knowing." He didn't shout this time, but his tone was so scornful and filled with contempt that it was more painful to hear than any yell. "I gave you several days. You had time, resources, access, everything you asked for, and even so you couldn't get a single lousy photo. You damn incompetent fool."
Mac Gargan lowered his head, his hands tightening on the back of the chair so hard that his knuckles turned white. It was a horrible feeling — to have his work diminished and to be called incompetent for something that wasn't his fault.
He had done everything right. He had followed the leads, questioned witnesses, spent sleepless nights watching the places where Spider-Man usually appeared. But how was he supposed to take pictures of someone who had simply disappeared?
Unfairness. Unfairness was the only word that came to his mind at that moment.
"I... I know I didn't fulfill what I promised," Mac Gargan said, swallowing his pride and his protests, forcing them down his throat. "But boss, now that Spider-Man is back, I promise I'll get the photos. Just give me one more day—"
"One more day?" Jameson repeated, his voice rising to a pitch that made Mac Gargan shrink. "No, I don't think so." He extended his hand and knocked over the stack of photos beside the computer onto the desk, scattering them in front of the man. "You lost."
Mac Gargan's eyes widened, and he felt the ground beneath his feet vanish as he saw the photos that showed the cause of his headache over the past few weeks. How? How could that be possible? After so much sweat, so many sleepless nights, favors asked from informants who charged dearly, hours of waiting on cold rooftops... how the hell had someone been faster than him?
Mac Gargan's mind worked quickly to find the culprit, arriving at only one name: "P-Parker?"
Jameson didn't respond for a moment, only watching Mac Gargan's face and seeing the anger bloom there like a poisonous flower blooming. It was exactly what he wanted to see. "Yes. Tell me, Mac Gargan, what does it feel like to lose to a high school kid? Hm? A brat barely out of diapers."
"How... How did he do it?!" Mac Gargan asked through clenched teeth.
"Do I look like I have a crystal ball to you?" Jameson grumbled, spinning his chair with a sharp motion and turning to face the window behind him. Outside, Manhattan stretched in every direction. The city lights were already beginning to flicker across the skyscrapers, traffic moving through the avenues. He watched the horizon for a moment, letting the silence stretch and Mac Gargan stew in his own frustration. "You're going to find out for me."
Gargan blinked in confusion. "What?"
Jameson spun the chair again, turning back to Mac Gargan. "You heard me very well. This is the last opportunity I'm going to give you, Mac Gargan. You have one week. One week to tell me how Peter Parker gets those Spider-Man photos. I don't care what it is. I don't care how you find out. I want to know."
He leaned forward. "But if you fail again... you will never set foot in this building again. And I swear on everything sacred in this world that no other newspaper in this city will take you in. Never again. Do we understand each other?"
***
[Are you enjoying the story? If so, and you'd like to give me a little extra motivation to keep writing or get access to upcoming chapters before everyone else, stop by my Patreon.]
LINK: patreon.com/Rudeus690
Disclaimer: This story and its characters belong to Sony Pictures and Marvel Comics (Disney). This is merely a fanfiction written by a fan, with no intention of infringement.