One of the most luxurious hotels in Manhattan, famous worldwide for its romantic atmosphere and top-tier service. Crystal chandeliers from the 18th century glittered softly, their tassels swaying gently.
The polished floors reflected human silhouettes, and the velvet-blue curtains draped low, filling the place with an air of opulence.
On the 52nd floor, inside what was said to be the most expensive penthouse suite in the country, guests clinked glasses and chatted cheerfully.
"Is the speaker fixed yet? Everyone's already here, let's start."
The wedding host, looking to be in his thirties, patted the man crouched beside the speaker. The man was called Joe, supposedly a hotel technician.
"All set, don't worry."
Joe patted his chest with a grin. In truth, he had infiltrated the wedding a while ago. Now, it was time for the show to begin.
The music started, and the wedding officially commenced. It was a buffet-style party with tables lined with delicacies and desserts for guests to choose from freely.
Just as the atmosphere reached its peak—BANG!
A deafening gunshot echoed. Screams erupted, guests panicking as they ducked and ran.
"Nobody move! Hands up, squat down, and don't try anything stupid, or I'll shoot!"Standing on a table with a rifle was Ace, grinning wickedly.
At that moment, the ballroom doors opened, and a man in a dark green tailored suit strolled in gracefully, a black-gold cane tapping lightly on the floor. All eyes turned to him.
"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Valon, leader of the Blackhand Syndicate."
"There's no need to panic. We're only here for money, nothing more. Cooperate, and no one dies. Cause trouble, and… well, that's up to you."
Valon climbed the stage, snatching the host's microphone, his tone calm yet menacing.
"I have a list with every name in this room. Don't think you can outsmart me. Now, everyone, stand up and keep your hands over your heads."
The hostages, trembling, complied immediately, hoping to make it through the night alive.
"What's going on here?"
A woman in a white wedding dress burst in from outside—the bride, whose big night had just been stolen.
"The future bride, please, up on stage. The rest of you, stay where you are."
Valon beckoned lazily with one finger, his mood much improved now that a certain meddlesome archaeologist wasn't around to ruin things.
Joe and Ace corralled the hostages at gunpoint. Some sobbed quietly, terrified.
"One at a time, line up. Take a plate from here and place all valuables on it," Ace ordered, demonstrating with a white porcelain dish.
"Cash in this bucket," Joe added, planting a flag reading Cash.
"Checks here."
"Jewelry here."
"Necklaces."
"Rings."
"Miscellaneous items like gold pens, lighters—there."
Once the buckets were lined up, Ace grabbed the mic again.
"If anyone hides valuables…"
Click—Bang!
A gunshot shattered a vase in the corner. Women screamed, cowering.
Soon, everyone was lined up, dropping treasures into the buckets.
Meanwhile, Valon stood at the giant floor-to-ceiling window, sipping wine and gazing at the glittering New York skyline. When Ace whispered that they were ready, Valon turned, smiling.
"Good. Let's begin."
At the NYPD Headquarters,
"What? The Blackhand Syndicate is making a move again?!"
"Got it, we're on our way."
Captain George Stacy slammed the phone down and called his team to gear up.
"Dad, what's going on? A case?"
His daughter Gwen Stacy, who was visiting during school break, peeked curiously.
"Yeah, Four Seasons Hotel. Blackhand's at it again. Multiple kidnappings and jewel heists this month, all linked to their boss—Valon."
Gwen glanced at a photo of a man in a green suit."He doesn't even look like a criminal. Please be careful, Dad."George smiled, hugging her before heading out.
Back at the hotel, the buckets were overflowing with riches.
"Boss, tonight's a jackpot," Ace grinned. "The Syndicate's gonna rake in a pile of Red Ruby Credits after this."
Then, an argument broke out at the valuables table. Joe had a young man at gunpoint.
"You come to a wedding like this and claim you have nothing on you? Think I'm an idiot?"
The boy stumbled back, emptying his pockets helplessly."Sir, really, I've got nothing. Look."
It was Peter Parker, dragged here by his friend. No money, no valuables.
Valon studied him with interest. "Brave kid. Come up here and tell me—how'd you sneak into a rich man's wedding?"
Before Peter could answer, Harry Osborn stepped forward."I brought him. He's with me. He really doesn't have anything."
"Osborn, huh?" Valon's eyes narrowed. Ace whispered,
"Boss, Norman Osborn's the CEO of Osborn Industries. His name's on the guest list."
Valon's grin widened.
"A shame your father couldn't make it. I bet we'd get along well."
He ordered Harry to empty his pockets. Harry only had a gold pen.
"That's it? Your daddy must not love you," Valon mocked, making Harry's face burn.
"Feed the rich boy a shrimp!" Valon laughed, tossing him a raw blue lobster.
When Harry hesitated, Valon added,
"Shell and all."
Harry's jaw clenched as he bit down, glaring at Valon, trying to burn his face into memory.
Then came the sound of helicopter rotors outside. Searchlights flooded the room.
"Valon of the Blackhand Syndicate, you're surrounded! Release the hostages and surrender!" Captain Stacy's voice boomed over a megaphone.
Valon set down his wine glass, twirling his cane like a man walking a red carpet under stage lights.
"Surrender? Oh, George… you remind me of an old friend in District 13. Bald guy. Equally boring."
His men stood ready with bags full of loot.
"Boss, ready to roll."
Valon looked over New York one last time, spotlight shining on him as if he were the star of the show.
"No lame old archaeologist. No bratty kids. And yet… the zLord still exists in this world."
He grinned, utterly pleased.
"Oh, how I love this beautiful world."
From the shadows, a masked black-armored figure peeked out.
Valon's smile widened.
"Time to leave."