I'm working on Marvel's Spider-Man in American comics.

Chapter 46: Karl King Can No Longer Exist in a World Where Hope Still Exists

"So, you're concerned about other people's mental health again, aren't you, friendly neighbor?" Frank, who was sure it was only a little past four in the morning, picked up the half-finished bottle of whiskey, poured himself another glass, and then sat down at the bar and downed it in one gulp.

“Normally, I would say to people, ‘Fuck you.’ But I met a guy in Hell’s Kitchen.” He held out his hand and looked Peter up and down. “Just like you, all in red, he taught me… how to deal with someone like you.”

Spider-Man nodded as he sipped his coffee: "Daredevil, I've heard of him. People say he's a good guy."

"Yeah, I fought with him twice because he didn't want me to kill some bastard."

The Punisher scratched his head and suddenly changed the subject: "When you first appeared in front of me, I thought you would be like him, saying things like 'once you kill someone, you can't turn back,' and that if you did that you would be just like them, spouting nonsense. You didn't, so I think you're pretty good."

"I'm just confirming with you whether the law can punish a chameleon, and whether this chameleon is beyond redemption."

"He's a hopeless bastard, beyond the reach of the law." After listening to Spider-Man's explanation, the Punisher didn't refute anything, but just poured himself a drink and said, "You wanted to ask me if I had any personal grudges against him, right? I'll tell you, I did."

“He kidnapped a man, a father, then dressed up as him to kill other people, and then released him. I didn’t know that chameleon bastard at the time, but he had already found me, and he did it on purpose.”

Frank Cassel didn't say what happened next, but Peter already knew what the Punisher had done.

"That woman, and their child... watched as their father, a poor man who had been locked in the basement by that bastard for more than half a month and had just been released, was shot dead in front of them by another bastard... They were having a picnic in Central Park that day, and the wife and child watched their father being shot to death in a hail of bullets!"

He tilted his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing, and the glass slammed heavily against the bar with a dull thud, followed only by the middle-aged man's feeble curses.

"Fuck you!"

"How are you……?"

The Punisher covered his head with one hand, slapped away Spider-Man's outstretched hand with the other, and then took out several bottles of medicine from his pocket and took them: painkillers, blockers, and sedatives.

"It's a personal vendetta, kid. Sometimes Red (that's what the Punisher calls Daredevil) is right, killing those bastards won't bring you peace; you'll always feel empty. But some people are better off dead, don't you think?"

After taking his medicine, he lit a cigarette and then asked, "Like your... friend?"

"...I really can't find a way to persuade Cal King to turn back or to bring him to justice. He...he ate his mother."

Peter couldn't fathom how anyone could do such a thing. He put down his coffee, walked to the railing, and looked at New York City, still shrouded in night: "I can't pin my hopes on him having a conscience and not harming my family or friends... I can't find any other way but to kill him or imprison him permanently."

"If you can't do it, leave it to me."

Frank Castle finished the rest of his drink in one gulp: "It's almost five o'clock, let's get started."

It was seven in the morning. Gwen Stacy, carrying her schoolbag, walked anxiously towards the school after exiting the subway station near Midtown Middle School. She felt she had gathered enough evidence to prove that her childhood friend Peter Parker was Spider-Man, but when she texted Peter yesterday, he said he had something to do and would be home late.

But in reality, Peter Parker didn't go home at all last night. Gwen watched the Parker's house from the window all night, but no lights were on, no Spider-Man crawled in during the night, and no one came out of the Parker's house this morning.

What worried Gwen even more was that when she messaged Peter again that morning, he didn't reply. "Welcome to today's Daily Horn Morning News. We've received news that an office building under construction belonging to Roxon Energy exploded yesterday. Although there's no direct visual evidence, according to an eyewitness account from someone calling himself Detective Mike, he saw Spider-Man fighting someone in the rubble after the explosion!"

JJJ, true to form, launched a scathing attack on Spider-Man: "So without a doubt, it was Spider-Man's fight that caused that explosion. Some might say it's the work of superheroes, but if every time these masked vigilantes act, a building collapses or Times Square is destroyed, then what's dangerous—ordinary crime, or these damn masked vigilantes?!"

Gwen had no interest in listening to these ridiculous reports. If Peter were here, he would probably have made a few sarcastic remarks, but she wasn't in the mood for that right now.

Gwen reached the subway exit and felt someone staring at her. Before she could turn around to see who it was, her waist was grabbed and she was lifted off the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. When her feet touched the ground again, she was on the roof of a school in Midtown.

"call--"

She let out a long sigh of relief, still shaken, and saw Spider-Man loosen his grip on her, saying earnestly, "Miss, you may not know, but—"

"Peter? What happened?"

"You now—"

Spider-Man was abruptly interrupted, then looked at her blankly and asked that rather foolish question.

"Who, who is Peter?"

“Listen, no matter what, you should…” Gwen ignored her wind-blown hair, quickly realizing something, and then stared at Spider-Man in front of her: “I’m in danger, aren’t I?”

"Uh, right! Some people are watching you, miss." Spider-Man said as he ran towards the edge of the rooftop, glancing back at her as he went: "Don't run around until it's safe!"

“Okay, we’ll talk about it later.” Gwen thought about sending a text message to Mary Jane to ask her and Peter to take a break. Then, recalling the brief swinging experience, she realized it wasn’t scary at all. On the contrary, she felt an unprecedented sense of freedom, even though she was being carried along.

I wish I could wander freely in New York like that.

As Spider-Man leaped from the rooftop, he free-falled while spraying himself with pheromones from a small bottle. The smell, like rotting tropical plants, was something most people would avoid, but it was the most effective attraction for Cal King's spider swarm.

"Alright, Carl, you don't have time to choose a second target!" Spider-Man, who had swung to the subway station exit, activated his thermal imaging and punched a passerby dressed as a hippie. The crowd, who hadn't even reacted yet, now saw Spider-Man beating up an ordinary citizen—this didn't need the chameleon to spread rumors, if it weren't for the fact that the citizen's entire face had fallen off, revealing countless spiders inside.

"So, Karl, I bought a new cologne. How does it smell?"

Spider-Man gagged Kal-King with his webs, dragged the swarm of spiders away from the subway station, and crashed them onto the roadside: "Come on, just the two of us!"

Eugene Thompson, who had just come out of the subway station, witnessed this shocking scene. He saw Spider-Man swing away, and then a huge bunch of disgusting spiders emerged from the sewers, gathering together with the humanoid monster made up of countless spiders, also swinging on their webs to chase Spider-Man. He couldn't help but widen his eyes, and then looked at the school next to him.

"I need to take the day off today!"

　The title is a reference to a sea tiger, and the original quote is "It is no longer permissible for a second son to exist in a world where there is still hope."

　　I always feel that explaining the joke is low-class.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)