𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙧 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙩-𝙎𝙥𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 (𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗠𝗲?

(Remember to Vote and Comment as it Does a Lot for Motivation Seeing That You're Reading)

A Month and a Half Later 

Y/N was currently dressed in a dark outfit, black jeans, dark blue hoodie with the hood up, with a medical face covering much of his face and a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. Many would call this a cobbled together outfit meant to conceal his identity. Which was true, Y/N was taking on more and more guns from Montana. Doctors  had said his fathers cancer has actually regressed to a point, where they could preform a lobectomy. Only problem was is that the operation would cost around $27,000. So not exactly cheap. Plus that didn't include all the bribes and other services it could cost to filter the money through. 

So the teenager leapt from rooftop to rooftop, across large gaps and over the streets like a parkour expert. He had found out, whatever bit him at Oscorp had not only gifted him with a precognition to danger, but made him incredibly athletic. He barley survive PE class and now here he was gracefully moving across the city. Y/N had set himself a few rules while on jobs. First was to never let others see his powers, sure he could jump and run like any other person but no sticking to walls. That would scare off people, and who knows what Fisk would do. But as of now, the city, once a sprawling landscape of routine, had transformed into a playground for his newfound abilities.

In his right hand Y/N held a brown paper bag, inside? Whatever the buyer was paying to be delivered, a gun, drugs, Y/N didn't really care, as long as he got the money. 

Navigating the urban jungle, Y/N's senses heightened, the tingle at the base of his skull acting as a silent guide. His every movement spoke of a grace and precision that transcended mere athleticism. The city became his canvas, and he moved through it like a phantom, leaving no trace but the rhythmic echo of his footfalls.

Y/N eventually reached his destination, a rundown apartment complex on the outskirts of China Town, judging by the outside it wasn't the most sustained of places. Leaping into a nearby alleyway, Y/N removed his disguise, tearing off the face mask and shoving it into his pocket with the sunglasses removed also. Simply stepping into the complex, one could see it wasn't well kept. Damp, overflowing trash which looked like it hasn't been emptied in weeks, oh and that's a comforting sight, a dead rat. 

The delivery was intended for Apartment 15, and after making it Y/N was sure as hell gonna need a shower cause this place stunk. Finding the apartment, Y/N knocked on it, and inside one could hear the knocking over of metal and what was obviously beer cans. The buyer, a man in a disheveled white tank top, exuded an air of desperation that sent a chill down Y/N's spine.

As the package changed hands, the buyer flashed a crooked grin, his words laced with a jokey edge. "You're a regular Amazon Worker, huh? Delivering more than just packages," he chuckled, a hint of menace underlying the superficial charm. Y/N, uneasy with the implications, responded with a tight-lipped nod. The banter masked the darker reality that loomed over the exchange.

His eyes, however, caught a glimpse of something that sent a pang of guilt through him. In the dimly lit apartment behind the buyer, a child, innocent and oblivious, played with worn-out toys. The contrast between the world he had unwittingly entered and the innocence within that apartment tugged at Y/N's conscience.

The buyer, now examining the contents of the package, shot a glance back at Y/N. "Something on your mind, Kid? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Y/N hesitated, his internal conflict palpable. "Just... wondering who this is for," he replied, a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

The man in the tank top smirked, oblivious to the turmoil within the young courier. "Don't worry about it, kid. Just the usual business. Nothing that concerns you" he scoffed, handing Y/N a stack of cash and then shut the door on him. Y/N walked away, and pulled the hood over his face a single thought going through his mind which couldn't seem to escape the sight of the poor child with worn clothes and a father who clearly had other priorities other than being a father.