Gwen landed on a rooftop. As soon as she steadied herself, a voice came from behind her.
"Spider-Man?"
She spun around abruptly, but her Spider-Sense remained quiet, giving no reaction.
Under the moonlight, a red and black figure stood three meters behind her. A devil mask, twin batons, and the "DD" emblem on his chest faintly visible in the darkness.
Daredevil.
Gwen let out a sigh of relief.
"How do you walk so silently?" she asked.
Daredevil tilted his head slightly—that was his way of "looking" at people, using his extraordinary hearing and senses to capture everything around him.
"There was sound," he said, "but you were too focused."
Gwen thought about it; it seemed true. She had been thinking about Kingpin's words earlier and hadn't paid attention to her surroundings.
"How did you know I was here?" she asked again.
"This area is my turf," Daredevil said. "I know when a stranger enters."
Gwen nodded, not pressing him on how he knew. A blind man capable of becoming the Guardian of Hells Kitchen naturally had his own skills.
"I'm here looking for clues about The Hand," she said. "I heard earlier that The Hand is connected to Kingpin."
Daredevil was silent for a second, then nodded.
"They are."
He walked to the edge of the roof, facing the direction of Fisk Tower.
"The Hand is a transnational mystical organization, and Kingpin is the king of the New York underworld. Most of the time, The Hand leads, and Kingpin acts as their agent."
Gwen walked over and stood beside him.
"Agent?"
"Kingpin provides channels and cover," Daredevil said, "and The Hand provides resources and manpower. They have been working together for many years."
He paused.
"Besides the human trafficking ring you dismantled earlier, there are also arms, drugs, transport channels—and even darker things."
Gwen frowned.
"Darker things?"
Daredevil turned to "look" at her.
"The black sky," he said, "and resurrection deals."
Gwen froze.
The black sky.
She searched her memories from her past life for the term—it was an entity worshipped by The Hand, a thing known as the "Beast." They were trying to resurrect the black sky to gain immortality and power.
"Resurrection?" she asked. "Can the dead really be brought back to life?"
Daredevil nodded.
"The Hand has a secret art," he said. "They can bring the dead back to life through a specific ritual. But the cost is great, and those who are resurrected—"
He didn't finish his sentence, stopping suddenly.
He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something.
Gwen's Spider-Sense hadn't gone off yet, but she knew Daredevil must have discovered something.
"What is it?"
Daredevil didn't answer.
He just stared in a certain direction of the night sky.
The next second, a figure descended from the sky, landing heavily in front of them.
Gwen took a step back, and her Spider-Sense finally exploded—not with the feeling of lethal danger, but the intruder meant trouble.
The moonlight illuminated the person's face.
It was a middle-aged white man, exceptionally burly, with muscular lines as hard as if they had been carved by a knife. He wore an open dark tactical leather vest, revealing a dark green combat suit and a solid chest underneath. Khaki tactical trousers were tucked into high-top military boots, with a hunting knife and a pouch of poison darts hanging from his waist, and a hunting spear slung across his back.
His face had the typical aristocratic Russian contours—high brow bones, deep-set icy blue eyes, and a gaze as sharp as an eagle's. His cheekbones were prominent, and his thick, dark brown short hair was slightly curly, with a few strands of gray at the temples. His beard was trimmed but still looked coarse, carrying an air of wildness.
There were old scars of varying depths on his face and neck, like marks left by years of hunting and military life.
He stood there like a human Beast.
"Gwen," Peter's voice sounded in her earpiece, rapid and nervous, "get out of there! I detected an unidentified person approaching at high speed—he's right in front of you!"
Gwen didn't move.
She was looking at the man's eyes.
In those icy blue eyes was something she was familiar with—just like Murakami, just like Silk, it was the look of a hunter regarding prey.
But she was not prey.
Daredevil stepped forward, holding his twin batons horizontally in front of him.
"Who are you?"
The man looked at him, the corners of his mouth curling up slowly.
The smile was cold.
"I am the greatest hunter in the World."
His voice was low, with a hint of hoarseness and a kind of innate arrogance.
Images flashed rapidly through Gwen's mind.
Kraven the Hunter.
That movie starring Aaron Taylor-Johnson—Kraven the Hunter".
She had seen the trailer but hadn't really watched the movie. The 16% Rotten Tomatoes score hadn't piqued her interest.
But she remembered some of the setup—a descendant of Russian nobility who obtained a mysterious potion in Africa that could extend his lifespan and increase his strength, and from then on, he began hunting the most dangerous prey in the World.
And the one he wanted to hunt most—
Was Spider-Man.
A feeling of absurdity welled up in Gwen's heart.
What was this?
She had just driven Murakami away, just finished talking to Kingpin, just allied with Daredevil, and now another hunter had appeared?
And this hunter just happened to be here to hunt her?
"Kraven the Hunter?" she blurted out.
The man's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You know me?"
Gwen didn't answer.
She was thinking about the plot of that movie—unfortunately, she hadn't really paid attention, only knowing that Kraven seemed to have fought Spider-Man at the end; as for who won or lost, she had no memory of it.
"I've heard of you," she said vaguely.
Kraven looked at her, a flash of interest in his eyes.
"Spider-Man," he said, "I heard about you back in Africa. A vigilante in New York, a freak in red and blue spandex."
He looked her up and down, his gaze pausing for a moment on her new white suit.
"Changed colors now?"
Gwen didn't respond.
She was observing his stance, his breathing, the tension in his muscles.
This was an experienced hunter. Every movement was just right, without any excess.
Daredevil blocked her in front.
"Whoever you are," he said, "this is not the place for you."
Kraven looked at him.
"Daredevil," he said, "I've heard of you too. The Devil of Hells Kitchen."
He smiled, a hint of contempt in the smile.
"How strong can a blind man be?"
Daredevil didn't move.
But Gwen felt the air around him drop by a degree.
"Gwen," Peter's voice sounded in her earpiece, as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, "get out of there! Don't fight him! I don't have data on this guy—I don't know his background—"
Gwen gently pressed her earpiece to indicate she understood.
But she didn't leave.
Because she knew that if she ran now, Kraven would chase.
She could get away, but what about Daredevil? And what about the people in this neighborhood?
"Kraven," she said, "why did you come looking for me?"
Kraven looked at her, a flash of something in his icy blue eyes.
"Because I heard," he said, "that you are the most difficult prey in New York."
He took a step closer.
"I have hunted lions, leopards, bears, and those humans who thought they were so capable. But they weren't worthy."
His gaze locked onto Gwen, as if locking onto prey.
"But you—you have superpowers. You can climb walls, shoot webs, and your reaction speed is far beyond normal people."
He took another step closer.
"You are true prey."
Gwen's Spider-Sense rang even louder.
But she didn't retreat.
"So what?" she asked. "You want to fight here?"
Kraven smiled.
"No."
He stopped.
"Tonight is just to have a look," he said. "To see if my prey is worth me making a move."
He turned to leave, took two steps, then suddenly stopped.
He looked back.
"Next time we meet," he said, "I won't hold back."
Then he leaped away, disappearing into the night.
His speed was astonishing.
Gwen stood in place, watching the direction he had disappeared, and was silent for a few seconds.
"This man," Daredevil said, "is very dangerous."
Gwen nodded.
"I know."
Daredevil turned to her.
"You know him?"
"I've heard of him," Gwen said. "A hunter who specializes in hunting dangerous animals. And now—"
She paused.
"Now he wants to hunt me."
Daredevil was silent for a second.
"Do you need help?"
Gwen looked at him and suddenly smiled.
"Aren't you already helping?"
Daredevil nodded slightly.
"I'm watching this area. If he comes back, I'll know."
Gwen nodded.
"Thank you."
Daredevil didn't say anything more and turned to leave.
"By the way," Gwen called out to him, "the things you mentioned earlier—the black sky, the resurrection deals—could you elaborate?"
Daredevil stopped.
"Next time," he said. "You have enough trouble for one night."
He leaped into the darkness and disappeared.
Gwen stood on the rooftop, looking at the empty night sky.
"Gwen," Peter's voice sounded, filled with the relief of someone who had just survived a disaster, "you scared me to death... did he really leave?"
"He left."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Gwen took a deep breath, flicked her wrist, and shot a web at the opposite rooftop.
She swung into the night, flying towards home.
But in her mind, she kept thinking about that man's eyes.
Kraven.
The greatest hunter in the World.
And she was his prey.
The night wind blew, carrying a chill.
Gwen suddenly remembered the rating of that movie—16% on Rotten Tomatoes.
She couldn't help but smile.
She hoped her ending wouldn't be as rotten as that movie.