Peter blocked, deflected arms a blur. Elbowed Kraven's strike to the side, countered with a snap kick to the ribs.
Kraven absorbed it. Grinned.
"Good reflexes, spider. You dance well."
"This isn't a dance." Peter muttered, ducking under a claw slash, slamming his shoulder into Kraven's gut, then grabbing behind the knee and flipping him.
KRAK!
Kraven hit the ground hard, but rolled like a wildcat, landing on all fours again.
(He's not human anymore. This isn't some obsessed hunter… This is a predator. A beast who trained like a man.)
Kraven charged again, low this time.
Peter side-stepped, then threw a brutal hammerfist to Kraven's back. The hunter staggered, but caught Peter's wrist and hurled him over his shoulder.
THUD!
Peter bounced off a concrete pillar and skidded to his feet, coughing.
Kraven stalked closer, flexing his claws.
"You're holding back, Spider."
"Maybe I am." Peter said, steadying his breath. "You sure you want the full weight of me?"
Kraven smirked.
"I've fought mutants in the jungle. You are no mutant. You're prey."
Peter cracked his knuckles.
(Okay then. You asked for it.)
He exploded forward. A Krav Maga eye jab feint into a low-line kick to the thigh, Kraven grunted as his stance broke. Peter followed with a spinning elbow to the temple, then a quick rear naked choke setup from behind.
But Kraven bit him.
"AGH—!"
Peter yanked back as blood spurted. His shoulder was grazed, nothing serious, but enough to feel.
(He fights like a fucking animal.)
Peter threw Kraven off with brute force, then used the momentum to knee him in the ribs, double-palmed his ears for a disorienting slap, and spun into a side clinch.
"Not prey. Never prey." Peter whispered.
And with that, he suplexed Kraven backward, smashing the hunter into the cracked road.
Dust exploded.
Kraven lay still for a breath. Then—he laughed.
"YES! This! This is the spider I heard about!"
Peter stood over him, fists clenched.
"You came for a hunt? Then realize what you're hunting. I'm not prey. I'm vengeance in webbing. I'm not here to run. I'm here to stop this."
Kraven's lip curled in a grin blood smeared across his teeth.
"Then come. End it."
And again, they charged.
Ganke's voice was quiet, but sharp.
"Guys… if this goes south, we run. We're not in their league."
Quin, arms crossed and lip curled under the scar on his jaw, stared down the line of Vipers with blazing eyes.
"If one of you moves, I don't care if Kraven rips your head off—I'll do it first."
Robin, gripping his dented metal bat like a sword, leaned toward Arlo and Tray.
"Okay, I know I joke a lot, but this? This ain't a joke. That's Kraven versus Black Spider-Man. We're just background noise."
Arlo nodded slowly.
"Should we even be breathing this close to them?"
Tray clicked his tongue, his grip on his plasma shotgun tightening.
"Not unless you want your lungs torn out by a misfired punch."
Across the ruined plaza, Kraven's wild, beast-like crouch remained still. Yet his muscles were coiled like a predator mid-stalk.
Peter stood tall, the white crow emblem pulsing faintly in the moonlight.
"Last chance, Kraven. I don't want to kill you."
Kraven bared his teeth.
"You think you can? Boy, I was born to hunt gods. What are you to me?"
(What am I?) Peter thought.
(A reborn warrior. A symbol. A mistake turned myth. Not a god… but maybe just enough to be your end.)
"Come then," Peter whispered.
"I SHALL!" Kraven roared.
He lunged like a panther explosively, low to the ground his clawed gloves aiming for Peter's legs. Peter snapped back with perfect balance, spinning mid-air to avoid a slash, then landed and countered with a brutal elbow to Kraven's neck.
Kraven reeled but not for long.
He twisted into a roll and came back up like a beast possessed, swiping at Peter's ribs.
Peter blocked with both forearms crossed, then pivoted his body with the momentum—
A textbook Krav Maga counter.
He hooked Kraven's arm, brought his shoulder down, and SLAMMED the hunter onto the concrete.
Kraven, to his credit, grinned through the pain.
"Your moves… it feels like from a military… Is frank Castle teaching you that"
Peter's eyes narrowed behind the mask.
"You studied me?"
"I obsessed over you." Kraven snarled, thrusting a knee up to Peter's gut.
Peter grunted and flipped back, landing on his feet, but Kraven chased with a feral combo—hook, slash, uppercut, double palm thrust.
Peter deflected one, dodged the next, took the uppercut to the jaw but used the palm strike as leverage to flip over Kraven's back—
And jammed both his fists down on Kraven's shoulders from behind.
(This guy's movements are fast. Wild. Unpredictable.)
(He's not just strong… he's trained. He adapted beast instincts into a martial framework.)
Kraven snarled, spinning with a backfist. Peter ducked and struck low—two jabs to the thigh nerve cluster.
Kraven stumbled.
Peter surged forward.
BOOM!
Kraven caught him with a wild shoulder charge, slamming Peter through a crumbled wall. Dust exploded.
Ganke shouted, "Spider-Man"
Robin raised his bat again.
"We doing something? Or just watching a live anime fight?"
Quin didn't move.
"We do nothing. He chose this."
From the rubble, Peter emerged, mask cracked slightly, black suit torn near the ribs.
He spat blood.
"Okay… no more warm-ups."
Kraven's smile widened, crazed.
"YES! UNLEASH IT!"
Peter took a stance wide, stable, grounded.
Krav Maga mixed with something else. Something primal.
He whispered to himself.
"Ganghood never leaves you."
Peter moved first.
Blinding speed.
A straight punch that shattered the air.
Kraven blocked, but Peter flowed uppercut, elbow, downward palm strike to the solar plexus.
Kraven coughed. Peter used his momentum to slide behind him, hooked his neck, and lifted him into a rear choke.
Kraven twisted, headbutted him, broke free and roared as he turned around.
Only to eat a flying knee from Peter that sent him flying into a pillar.
Kraven slumped, then stood, chest heaving.
"You fight like a street dog."
Peter's eyes burned behind the mask.
"I was one."
Kraven bled from the mouth.
"Then it will be an honor to fall by one."
The Vipers stood silent.
One of them whispered, "Master Kraven…"
"I SAID DON'T FUCKING INTERFERE!" Kraven barked mid-fight.
From the side, Frank Castle grinned, lit a fresh cigarette, and cocked his gun with casual flair.
"Do a fuck-up thing, and I fuck you up."
Harry didn't even blink, rifle locked on the Vipers.
"Try it. I dare you."
Tray muttered, "Bro, that ain't Spider-Man anymore."
Robin cracked a smile.
"That's Hunter-Man now."
Peter stood straight, dust rising around him.
"Let's end this, Kraven."
Kraven grinned. "Yes... let's."
And they clashed again, beast and symbol, in a dance of brutality and legacy—watched by rebels, Vipers and people who watch the live stream.
To be continue