"So, the next guy I have to face is Mysterio? How 'exciting'."
His brand-new suit flapped in the New York night wind as Spider-Man's silhouette swept past the neon-lit skyscrapers. Peter felt absolutely no enthusiasm for this upcoming enemy—especially after recalling Quentin Beck's hypocritical face from Spider-Man: Far From Home. Although this universe's "Mysterio" had a completely different origin and power source than his MCU counterpart, Peter had a preconceived dislike.
What's more, Mysterio's power ceiling was ridiculously high; the movie version was actually a weaker iteration. If it really was just movie-level strength, that would be fine. But in some versions, Mysterio's illusions could even interfere with his spider-sense, manipulating senses beyond just sight, causing complete disorientation in a false reality.
"I hope this universe's Mysterio isn't that twisted..." Peter muttered. He had specifically upgraded his suit with infrared vision for Mysterio, hoping it would come in handy.
But that wasn't the only problem.
Behind those stolen high-tech gadgets, there was clearly a more dangerous individual—a genius capable of integrating cutting-edge tech like light particle projectors and neural connectors. Doctor Octopus? Norman Osborn?
Peter rubbed his temples. He still knew too little about this world.
In fact, Peter Parker wasn't the only one with these thoughts. Mac Gargan, a notorious New York detective known for collecting dirt on mob bosses and threatening others, was currently looking up at the new Spider-Man swinging overhead. He couldn't help but sigh at how little he truly knew about Spider-Man. After confirming Spider-Man had indeed donned a brand new suit, he quickly called Kingpin.
"Mr. Gargan, is something wrong? Have you already uncovered Spider-Man's true identity?"
"Not yet, Mr. Fisk."
Gargan looked around, then ducked into an alleyway and began speaking softly: "But has your plan to ruin Spider-Man's reputation started? If not, delay it immediately!"
"I'm afraid Chameleon has already begun his operation. Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing." Gargan dared not speak loudly to Kingpin, so he tried his best to suppress his emotions and act normal: "It's just that Spider-Man changed into a new outfit. If you plan to continue, you'll need to consider a new image."
Kingpin hung up, leaving Gargan to continue his aimless search for Spider-Man's true identity. As for the plan, just as Kingpin said, it was too late to stop.
Chameleon was ready. His special suit allowed him to transform into anyone he had seen, essentially mimicking the biomimetic artificial skin created by Mystique, the current leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants. This technology was currently unique. He had heard S.H.I.E.L.D. had similar shapeshifting masks, but they were definitely not as convenient as his suit.
He was communicating with his special effects artist, Quentin Beck, via a miniature earpiece.
"Are you sure the equipment is calibrated? I've spotted a good target."
Quentin Beck was crammed into a van disguised as a delivery truck, his back pressed against the cold metal interior. Two burly men flanked him like guardians, while three monitors in front of him rendered a real-time holographic projection of Hell's Kitchen.
"Anytime, Mr. Smerdyakov."
Chameleon, walking down the street pretending to be a passerby, tossed a small spherical object. The light began to shift, and he subtly vanished from sight.
Not far away, two thugs were mugging a pedestrian. This was Hell's Kitchen; such incidents weren't uncommon. But Quentin was quite curious about Chameleon's choice.
"Mr. Smerdyakov, why did you choose to start in Hell's Kitchen? If you want to ruin Spider-Man's reputation, shouldn't you go to a more well-known place like Times Square?"
"It's a simple principle: if you want to frame someone, you can't just do the exact opposite of what they would. That would raise suspicion." Chameleon said, transforming into Spider-Man's old suit and picking up a grappling gun: "You have to stay in character, just with slight modifications."
"It's like mixing a drink, my dear Beck. You don't mix milk with whiskey; you add vodka—it's strong, but it doesn't immediately taste like a fake."
If a passerby had looked up, they would have seen Spider-Man swinging on webs, rounding a building and entering the street. Even the sound of his landing was so realistic. Chameleon performed a roll, and under Quentin's cover, he perfectly merged with the posing Spider-Man projection using light projection.
"Guys, I gotta say, can't you find a way to make money yourselves?"
"Spider-Man" stood up and said to the two thugs. The two thugs, seeing "Spider-Man," quickly fled. "Spider-Man" then fired a web, snagging one of them, pulling him back, and punched him directly, leaving his mouth bloody.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you were so fragile. Are you okay, friend?"
"Uh... I'm fine, thank you, Spider-Man."
The pedestrian cautiously came forward to thank him, then watched as "Spider-Man" bent down, took the thug's wallet, pulled out all the cash, and stuffed it into his pocket.
"Are you...?"
"Nothing. After all, being a superhero doesn't pay. Want a little? Perhaps as compensation."
"Spider-Man" smiled slightly, then leapt and swung away. As for Chameleon, he didn't go far.
Several of Kingpin's men exchanged glances, wondering, After all that, this is what you're doing?
"Don't rush. We'll be doing a lot more of this today. Spider-Man fights crime, but takes money from criminals. Is that stealing? Perhaps, but it's not enough to shake the perception that Spider-Man is a hero."
"People will only discuss his moral flaws; they won't think he's not a hero."
Dimitri chuckled. The rest would be much simpler. The next step was for "Spider-Man" to occasionally be reckless in his actions, injuring a few people. After that, "Spider-Man" would "execute" a few villains.
As public controversy around Spider-Man grew, his performance could become increasingly extreme, as if public criticism had caused Spider-Man to self-destruct. As for the real Spider-Man showing up, it wouldn't matter, because what Spider-Man would see was just Quentin's illusions.
He couldn't distinguish between himself and the illusions.
Quentin, meanwhile, was exceptionally excited. He could see in the holographic projection that Chameleon not only mimicked Spider-Man's motives and tone but also perfectly replicated the genuine article's habits, such as the slightly quicker head tilt.
"This, this is truly brilliant, Mr. Smerdyakov, you are simply the best actor I've ever seen... Your performance just now was so perfect, exactly like Spider-Man..."
Although Quentin Beck was just a minor character Kingpin looked down on, Dimitri still found such praise very gratifying. He could tell that Quentin genuinely admired his performance, or rather, that he could perform.
This special effects artist was very talented, but perhaps he wished more to be an actor.
Realizing this, Chameleon began to ponder whether he could use this to build a good relationship with Quentin and eventually recruit him to his own team. With such a special effects artist, his commercial espionage and assassination business would undoubtedly reach new heights.
No, it's better to help Kingpin deal with Spider-Man first.
Thinking this, Chameleon couldn't help but chuckle. He still didn't know that Spider-Man had already changed into a new suit.
That same evening, a post titled "Has Spider-Man Started Robbing?" began to spread. In the blurry video, "Spider-Man" was stuffing cash into his waistband. Kingpin's public relations team began to massively promote its dissemination.
Only Chameleon quietly observed it all.
I'm currently translating and editing new stories. New stories will be arriving in a few days, and I'll be releasing two chapters a day for a period. Stay tuned!