Maya set up Matt's "workstation" while reassuring him. "Matt, tomorrow's the weekend — no school, no part-time job. You can sleep in all morning, which means tonight we pull overtime, put in a few extra hours, help a few more people. Besides, you're not doing any heavy lifting. You've got hotpot. Think of it as training your super-hearing."
"Fine. You're the boss, you call the shots." Matt cocked his head, listening for a moment, then turned to Maya. "By the way — corner of Tenth Avenue and 52nd Street. Sounds like a sexual assault in progress. Go. I'll handle the rest here."
Maya didn't waste a word. She leapt off the building and ran straight down the facade. Midway down the Chrysler Building, a grapple hook shot from the box at her waist and sank into the opposite tower...
Once she was clear of the Chrysler Building, Maya dropped Shadow Escape and switched on the speaker at her waist. Lucius's rhythmic rap pulsed through the night air as Maya let out a whoop and swooped low through the ceaseless river of traffic. Red and green neon smeared into long, iridescent streaks across her vision. Car horns and the shouts of pedestrians swelled and faded as she climbed and dove, but the bass at her hip never stopped thumping...
"Wait — it's supposed to be a sexual assault, so why is it two men? Fuck... it really is."
In the second Maya hesitated, a wretched scream rang out. The attacker had already finished the act.
She stopped dwelling on the eye-searing imagery, swung in, and planted a flying kick that launched the masked brute across the alley. The victim was left bare-assed and face-down on the pavement, sobbing.
Simultaneously, Maya drew a handgun dripping with sci-fi aesthetics and fired two pew-pew shots at the perverted rapist. The man had just staggered upright; he collapsed again.
"Ahhh! My legs! I can't feel my legs! Ahhh..."
Done. Maya was already streaking toward her next stop. Not far away, a group was in the middle of robbing a bank — and that meant a fat pile of Influence Points waiting for her.
At that hour, it was afternoon in Germany. Inside a rehabilitation clinic that looked like a garden castle, Tony Stark lounged in bed with one leg in traction, watching an ABC breaking-news segment.
"I'm field reporter Anna, coming to you from the Chase Bank New York Seventh Branch on Ninth Avenue, Manhattan. Twelve assailants ambushed an armored car, killing three bank security guards on the spot. Just as they were about to escape, Spider-Man descended from the sky."
"Let's look at this footage — right here, this angle. Spider-Man's ODM gear has been upgraded again. It's sleeker, it's flashier, and it now comes with a built-in audio system. As Spider-Man dropkicked the first robber, we clearly heard a burst of high-energy music — and of course, that signature line: 'I'm justice — justice is coming!' Absolutely incredible. I'm completely smitten. The only question is which of Stark's bodyguards this Spider-Man actually is — though it's definitely not that chubby Happy!"
At the bedside, Happy's face was the picture of wounded dignity. "Boss, I'm not chubby. This is all muscle. I'm fast, I'm agile — ten grown men couldn't get near me!"
Tony pursed his lips. "Last time, a scrawny little Spider-Man knocked you out in one punch. What was that about? Never mind — shut up and let me watch."
The screen now showed a sleek, silver handgun. Its surface was mirror-smooth, and it had no visible magazine or ejection port — not a single shell casing had been ejected.
Each time the gun fired a beam of blue light, a robber went limp and crumpled to the ground, howling. Spider-Man's aim appeared to be perfect. Not a single miss.
"Wow, is this a new Stark Industries product? In just nine seconds, all twelve robbers are down! Let's get a word from Dr. Carlisle, who's here at the scene."
On screen, Anna extended her microphone to a middle-aged woman in a white coat. "Doctor, you've already done a preliminary exam on the assailants. What's their condition? Are any of their lives in danger?"
Dr. Carlisle, a Black woman with a serious, composed bearing, replied, "I've only done a preliminary check — more detailed findings will have to wait until they're at the hospital. But I can confirm that none of the twelve suspects are in mortal danger. Whatever that blue beam was, it appears to have only paralyzed the nervous system in their limbs. It's truly remarkable."
Even Carlisle couldn't help an expression of astonishment by the end.
Tony, however, just let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. "Happy, how much do you think Stark Industries stock will climb tomorrow?"
"Boss, could you actually build a gun like that? It looks incredible. I think all your bodyguards should have one!" Happy suggested.
Tony thought it over carefully, then shook his head. "Not without detailed data. I can't tell anything through a TV screen. Here's what I need you to do, Happy — call New York. I want the full medical reports on those twelve robbers. Actually, no. Spider-Man's been very active the last few days. There have to be more than just these twelve. Tell them I want the medical files on every criminal who's been shot with that gun. The more data I have, the better I'll understand the weapon, and the higher the odds I can develop something similar."
"On it, boss. I'll go make the call right now." Happy turned to leave.
"Wait. What ever happened with the fingerprints on that tracker?"
"Didn't you say Spider-Man was trying to frame Oscorp?" Happy asked, curious.
Tony's gaze grew complicated. He let out a long sigh. "Oscorp has been... restless lately. They're no longer satisfied with just the biotech sector. They've started eyeing government and military contracts — that's a very large pie. When things get that murky, it's hard to tell what's real and what's planted."
"The prints do belong to an Oscorp employee. A senior researcher, actually — Richard Parker. He and his wife, Mary Parker, both work in Oscorp's biotech division. Boss, do you want us to grab them and..." Happy made a slicing gesture across his throat.
"So it's the Parkers. Forget it. They're just researchers — leave them alone." Tony's expression turned thoughtful.
Maya had absolutely no idea that she'd already dragged Tony to the bottom of the Mariana Trench. He was now actively trying to knock off her super-sci-fi energy-beam pistol.
In reality, the gun was nothing but an empty shell. That pale blue beam wasn't any kind of energy ray — it was President Maya's Chakra Scalpel.
In Naruto, several top-tier medical ninja were proficient with the Chakra Scalpel. Its principle was elegantly simple: the reverse application of the Healing Jutsu.
The Healing Jutsu stimulated cellular activity, driving cell division at wound sites until injuries closed. The Chakra Scalpel did the opposite — it disrupted cellular structures inside the body, slicing through internal tissue without leaving any external wound, and could extend its reach at will.
Nearly every medical ninja understood the theory behind the Chakra Scalpel. But the number who could actually use it was vanishingly small. It demanded both extensive medical knowledge and razor-precise Chakra control.
Maya simply used the "handgun" as camouflage while her Chakra Scalpel severed the motor nerves in her targets' limbs.