Chapter 122: The One Whose Name Must Not Be Mentioned (Fourth Update, an Extra Chapter for Helm Lord Hai Hoi!)

These thugs, who committed every kind of evil in their daily lives, would suddenly see a little child standing in their way, declaring that he would represent the moon and destroy them. Apart from finding it ridiculous and laughable, they had no reason not to underestimate their opponent.

Even the real Spider-Man had been mocked and underestimated by a group of villains when he first debuted, let alone the still-short-legged Spiderboy.

“What is this world coming to? Now even children are playing hero. Aren’t the adults going to do something?” One of the gangsters waved his gun furiously and shouted, “Get lost, brat, or I’ll blow your head off!”

“Careful, sir,” Peter Parker said. He thrust out a hand, and with a whoosh, a strand of webbing shot out and wrapped around the gun in the man’s hand, yanking it away and pulling it into Peter’s grasp.

At the same time, Peter Parker remembered the line Luke had taught him and hurriedly added, “Eat my white spray!”

On the rooftop, Luke’s shoulders shook as he let out a strange little snicker.

The gangster looked down and immediately turned grim.

“Fuck! Kill him!” The burly man was furious and humiliated. He had actually let a child steal his gun.

The other two gangsters raised their weapons and opened fire without a word.

To them, killing men, women, children, or the elderly made no difference. The word “charity” did not exist in their dictionaries.

As bullets flew toward him, Spiderboy hurriedly backflipped, darted from side to side, and leaped about to evade them. His body was astonishingly nimble, and he chattered nonstop as he moved.

“I’m dodging, I’m dodging, I’m dodging—ah, I’ve been hit!”

Luke watched from the rooftop and covered his forehead. Once Spiderboy got into character, his chatter was simply unbearable—twice as bad as usual.

“Use your webs to tie them up,” Luke said through the earpiece.

“Got it, pal!” Peter Parker replied. He glanced at his two hands, then suddenly shot a strand of webbing from his left hand, followed immediately by another from his right. The webs stuck to the guns in the remaining two men’s hands and yanked them away.

Next, he webbed one of the men’s feet and gave the strand a casual tug. With tremendous strength far beyond that of any ordinary child, he dragged the gangster to the ground. Peter Parker leaped high into the air and fastened the webbing to a tall railing.

With a startled cry, the gangster was hoisted half a meter off the ground, hanging upside down with his head toward the pavement.

The other two gangsters finally realized something was wrong.

There was something strange about this kid!

But it was already too late.

Peter Parker repeated the trick and hoisted them both into the air. All three men hung neatly in a row, upside down.

To keep them from shouting, Luke reminded Spiderboy to seal their mouths.

Peter Parker rewarded each of them with a strand of webbing, plugging their mouths shut. “Eat my white spray!”

Still not satisfied, he leaped up and down, firing strand after strand of white webbing until all three men’s hands and feet were thoroughly bound.

In less than two minutes, the three gangsters had been transformed by the little brat they had so scornfully dismissed into three enormous white cocoons, swaying upside down in the night.

Driven by curiosity, Spiderboy walked over and picked up one of the pistols from the ground. He examined it for a moment, then suddenly—

Bang! Bang!

The gun went off accidentally. Startled, he threw it away as if it were a red-hot potato.

On the rooftop, Luke covered his forehead again.

“I was going to give you full marks. Now, zero.”

“Pal, ask them where Wilson Fisk is,” Luke said into the earpiece.

“Got it, pal.” Spiderboy stepped forward, passed the question on to the three gangsters, and then tore the webbing from one man’s mouth.

“Fuck—”

Before he could finish, Spiderboy sealed his mouth again.

“You’re next, sir. Try not to shout. It’s late, and everyone is asleep. Give me an answer I like, and I’ll let you down.” Spiderboy spoke with childlike sincerity as he tore the webbing from another man’s mouth.

The gangster’s head was spinning. Hanging upside down had already caused blood to rush to his brain. Desperate to get down, he quickly said, “We never speak his name. You picked the wrong man to provoke, kid.”

Peter Parker glanced secretly toward Luke.

On the rooftop, Luke muttered to himself, “We can’t say his name? What is this, Voldemort?”

He had never expected to learn anything about Kingpin from a few low-level thugs. That old fox was far too cunning and had hidden himself extremely well. Even Christina had been unable to find him.

Luke was just about to say something when his gaze shifted toward the rooftop of a building across the street.

A figure moved through the darkness there, darting and weaving as it ran.

Luke raised his binoculars and murmured in surprise, “Huh? Daredevil?”

The man across the way wore a skintight suit. Beneath the night sky, Luke could make out dark red leather. He moved with remarkable agility and athleticism, and within a few breaths he had reached the edge of the rooftop overlooking the street, where he crouched and peered downward.

His line of sight led directly to Spiderboy.

There was no need to guess. The two gunshots Spiderboy had fired had drawn Daredevil over. Judging by the circumstances, he had probably already been nearby.

“Wasn’t he investigating Madam Gao’s tainted baby-formula factory last time? Has he finished that investigation?” Luke wondered.

He kept his mouth shut and gave Spiderboy no further instructions.

Across the street, Daredevil quickly climbed, rolled, and descended from the rooftop with practiced ease, eventually reaching the street below.

He walked toward Spiderboy and first examined the three men hanging in the air. Then his attention settled on Peter Parker.

In a low voice rich with the resonance of a mature man, he asked, “Who are you?”

“And who are you?” Spiderboy replied.

The situation was somewhat outside Luke’s script. Since Luke had given him no instructions, Spiderboy was left at a loss.

Luke considered telling him through the earpiece what to say in response to Matt Murdock. But then he remembered one of the blind man’s abilities.

Hearing.

Forget the earpiece—even the hum of a mosquito would sound in his ears like a woman reaching climax, wave after wave.

If Luke spoke now, there was no doubt he would expose himself.

The others were not a concern. Matt knew Luke’s adoptive parents, but Luke did not particularly want Daredevil to learn his identity.

Matt said, “Recently, I’ve heard that there’s a dwarf picking fights with the gangs in Hell’s Kitchen. Is that you?”

Before Spiderboy could answer, Matt continued, “No, that can’t be right. Your heartbeat is so lively. You’re a child?”

His voice was filled with astonishment.

Daredevil was genuinely surprised. The fact that the other party had subdued three gangsters so quickly proved that he possessed considerable ability. Yet he was a child. Matt’s hearing and senses would not deceive him.

Crouched on the rooftop and watching everything closely, Luke thought rapidly. He shifted his foot, and a small stone beneath it made a faint clicking sound.

The noise was nearly inaudible, especially from this distance.

Even so, Luke’s heart sank.

“Is that your friend up there?” Daredevil asked Spiderboy.

He had heard it after all.

Luke opened his mouth in silent disbelief. That hearing was completely absurd.