The place was hidden below street level, tucked under an old warehouse that didn't look like much from the outside. But once inside, it was a completely different world.
The underground wrestling arena was packed wall to wall with people, loud music thumping hard enough to feel through the floor. Most of the crowd was dressed in dark jackets, ripped jeans, chains, and wild hairstyles. Neon lights flickered across the space, and the air smelled like sweat, metal, and cheap drinks.
Jack moved through the crowd in his normal clothes, blending in easily. Just another face.
He had already paid for a VIP seat — slightly elevated, giving him a clear view of the ring without being too obvious. He sat down and scanned the area once.
"Red Queen," he said quietly, keeping his voice low. "Peter's here, right?"
"Yes, Master. He entered the venue approximately seven minutes ago. Currently in the preparation area behind the ring."
Jack leaned back slightly. "Good."
He spotted a small betting booth set up in the corner of the VIP area. Just out of curiosity, he wandered over and glanced at the board. A long list of names and odds. His eyes stopped on one.
Spider-Man. +1200.
He stared at it for a second.
No one's betting on Peter to win today. So if I put money on him…
He glanced down at his wallet. Three hundred dollars — all he had on him right now.
It's basically free money. I already know how this ends.
He stepped up to the counter. "Hey — I want to bet Spider-Man wins today's round."
The guy behind the counter looked up. Then looked at Jack properly. Then laughed.
"Kid, how old are you?" He leaned back, grinning at his colleague. "You see this? Baby's trying to gamble."
The other guy snorted. "Let him. Free money for us."
"You even know what you're doing?" the first one said, looking back at Jack. "Spider-Man? Seriously? "
Jack slid the three hundred across the counter without a word.
The guy shook his head, still smiling, and took it.
"Alright, kid. Your funeral."
Jack took his slip and walked away.
"When I win, you guys are gonna cry," Jack laughed, and took his seat.
The lights dimmed suddenly. A loud buzz ran through the speakers, followed by flashing spotlights sweeping across the crowd. The audience erupted.
"LET'S GO!"
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"
Jack raised an eyebrow slightly, then settled into his seat.
First time here… not bad.
The announcer's voice came through, loud and energized. "Alright, people — welcome back! Let's get this started!"
The first match began almost immediately. Two fighters stepped into the ring, circling each other. No formal rules, no clean technique — just raw fighting. The crowd loved it.
Jack watched closely at first, paying attention to movement, reactions, timing. Then, after a few matches, he relaxed. Some were decent. Others… not so much. One guy swung wildly and missed three times in a row.
Jack shook his head slightly. "Yeah… okay, that one's rough."
Still, the energy in the place carried everything. Even the bad fights got reactions.
A few matches later, the announcer's tone shifted — louder than before.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen — get ready for the next fight!"
The lights focused on the ring.
"Introducing… SKULL CRUSHER!"
A heavy-built fighter stepped out, cracking his knuckles as the crowd cheered loudly.
"SKULL CRUSHER! SKULL CRUSHER!"
Jack watched calmly.
Then —
"And his opponent… a new challenger…"
A short pause.
"…SPIDER-MAN!"
A brief moment of confusion rippled through the crowd. Then laughter.
"Spider-Man?!"
"No way—"
"Another kid who saw the prize money and got excited."
BOOO.
Jack leaned forward slightly.
Peter stepped into the light. The suit wasn't perfect — but it was close enough. Red and blue, simple design, clearly homemade.
Jack smirked. "Yeah… that's definitely him." He shook his head slightly. "At least he committed to the name."
DING DING DING
The fight started. At first, it looked ridiculous.
Peter moved too casually, dodging in ways that didn't match the opponent's speed at all. Skull Crusher swung hard, but Peter leaned away just enough each time — almost like he was predicting it before it happened.
The crowd reacted instantly.
"Yo — what was that?"
"Do it again!"
Peter slipped another punch, stepped to the side, and lightly tapped the guy on the shoulder like he was messing with him.
Jack let out a small laugh. "He's not even trying…"
Skull Crusher got frustrated fast. He rushed in harder. Peter jumped back — too high for a normal person.
The crowd went quiet for a split second. Then louder.
"OH—!"
"Did you see that?!"
Peter landed, adjusted his stance, then moved in. A quick combo — controlled, nowhere near full force. Skull Crusher stumbled back. Another hit. Then a sweep. The bigger man went down hard.
The match ended just like that.
DING.
The referee barely had time to react before the crowd exploded.
"SPIDER-MAN!"
"No way that guy's new!"
Jack leaned back, watching. Yeah… this is easy for him.
Jack blinked. "…Seriously?"
He took a few pictures of Peter in his costume up on the stage. Click. "Perfect," Jack muttered, glancing at the shot. "That's definitely useful later."
"Alright," Jack said quietly to himself.
The announcer came back on, raising both hands. "Alright! That wraps up the opening round of Day One!"
The crowd cheered again.
"All winners move on to tomorrow's round! From there, we narrow it down to the semifinals… and then the championship!" He paused for effect. "And the winner takes home ten thousand dollars!"
That got the loudest reaction yet.
"YEAHH!"
The crowd was buzzing with excitement as Jack made his way back to the betting counter.
"Hey, give me the money I won," Jack said.
The guy behind the counter glanced up, recognized him, and gave a short nod. "It's you, kid. Had some luck there, huh?" He counted it out quickly and slid the stack across. "Three thousand, three hundred."
"Thanks."
"That kid got lucky today," someone nearby muttered. A few others agreed under their breath.
Jack didn't respond. He picked up the cash and started counting it himself, quick and quiet.
"Jack? What are you doing here?"
He stopped mid-count.
Jack turned his head slightly—and froze for a second.
Mr. Stacy.
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