However, Jessica could clearly see that Bruce's actions indicated he had no intention of going directly to find that guy.
After returning to the Batcave, Aunt May came out. Naturally, the alarm sound had made the elderly lady a bit worried.
"What happened?" Aunt May asked with concern.
"Nothing major, just a few guys trying to come over for an adventure." Bruce waved his hand, stopping Jessica from explaining the truth.
Although Aunt May didn't completely believe Bruce's words, at this moment, she could only choose to trust him.
"Aunt May, could you make some red date bread? Jessica said she missed your red date bread. I'm sure she'll finish it all this time."
While Bruce spoke, Jessica stared at him in disbelief—this guy could lie without batting an eye.
When did she ever say she wanted Aunt May's red date bread?
Aunt May didn't press further, simply flashing Jessica a bright smile.
Clearly, this was good news for Aunt May.
She had an inexplicable obsession with making red date bread—something neither Bruce nor Jessica understood.
Bruce walked to his workbench and began tinkering with the smoke bomb he had taken from the Wanderer.
Once Aunt May left and was out of earshot, Jessica plopped down on the workbench.
"You know what Aunt May's red date bread tastes like, right?" Jessica recalled the last time she ate it—the unforgettable flavor was... not exactly praiseworthy.
"That's why you're eating it." Bruce picked up a tool and began carefully dismantling the smoke bomb.
Jessica was left speechless.
She had expected Bruce to make some excuses, but clearly, she had underestimated him.
He had no intention of explaining himself at all.
Removing her mask, Jessica couldn't figure out how this thick-browed, wide-eyed guy could lie so naturally.
With a sigh, she turned her attention to the smoke bomb in Bruce's hands.
"What are you waiting for?" Jessica asked.
"I'm curious where his weapon came from." After completely disassembling the smoke bomb, Bruce indeed found something unusual.
Despite the fact that the markings and materials on the bomb were all from Oscorp, the cutting techniques and assembly methods were definitely not from Oscorp's production line.
It looked more like handmade work.
"What's so strange about that? There's still a large number of Oscorp weapons circulating on the black market." As a former agent, Jessica was well aware of the black market situation.
"You can find Oscorp weapons in practically any gang-controlled black market."
"If you're lucky, you wouldn't even need me to raid a safehouse to get S.H.I.E.L.D. weapons—you could just find them on the black market."
Especially after all the recent chaos, the weapons circulating on the black market were likely far more than they imagined.
There was even a chance S.H.I.E.L.D. weapons were already in circulation.
"But handmade ones... there shouldn't be many." Bruce finished dismantling the bomb and indeed found something.
"People who like making weapons by hand tend to have one common habit." Bruce used tweezers to lift a small device.
"They leave behind a unique signature."
There was a barely noticeable pattern on the device.
"Go search for it."
"No need." Jessica studied the pattern carefully. "I recognize this."
"Tinkerer—a former Roxxon scientist who was later recruited by Nick Fury. But he also takes jobs making weapons for supervillains. He's probably handling some business on the U.S.-Mexico border right now."
As soon as Jessica finished, she noticed Bruce's disapproving gaze.
Clearly, he found it hard to believe that S.H.I.E.L.D. would let someone like that build weapons for villains.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm just a pawn."
"The exact location?" Bruce withdrew his gaze, not planning to dwell on the matter.
Just like Jessica said—she was just a pawn. What could she do?
"I don't know." Jessica shook her head. S.H.I.E.L.D. had already fallen apart.
What other news could there possibly be to tell them?
Even Nick Fury himself had no idea where he had gone.
Bruce, however, was not discouraged. If Jessica knew about this, it would be a pleasant surprise; if she didn't, it would be understandable.
Now, he could only resort to a clumsy method.
He began to deduce where exactly the Prowler had gotten this thing from.
In the information age, even if someone had never used any high-tech methods, they would still leave traces of themselves inadvertently.
Sitting at his control console, Bruce directly hacked into the current records of the New York City government.
He found Aaron Davis's file.
On the other side of the file was Aaron Davis's current whereabouts.
At this moment, the Prowler was fleeing frantically. He was well aware that if he didn't get out of the range of those two guys, whatever awaited him would definitely not be good.
However, there was one thing he had figured out.
Miles seemed to value his family quite a lot.
To him, this was undoubtedly a point that could be exploited.
In fact, he had already thought of a plan to take advantage of this sentiment.
But before that, he still needed a few helpers.
After all, he wasn't just facing his nephew—he was also up against two completely unknown superheroes.
This was something that had to be done carefully, step by step.
As for the consequences? He had long stopped caring about those.
All he wanted was his immense wealth and fortune.
Everything else had long ceased to matter to him.
When he rushed into the abandoned Brooklyn subway terminal, he glanced at the graffiti on the wall that belonged to Miles and let out a cold chuckle.
Of course, the wall was now covered with more than just Miles' small graffiti from before—it also featured various other people's images.
The largest portrait among them was of a girl with short golden hair.
To be honest, he thought his nephew had pretty good taste.
If Miles could just listen to him and help him, that would be even better.
He turned and walked in another direction.
Pressing his palm against a seemingly ordinary wall—
The once unremarkable wall slowly opened.
Inside, the people waiting were all very familiar to the Spider-Men.
"We've got work, fellas," the Prowler's voice echoed in the space.
"My legs are almost rusting away. (Spanish)" A bald man turned around, revealing a sinister grin.
"This time, let's see what kind of choice our little Spider-Man will make," a female voice chimed in, unable to hide her amusement.
"We will succeed." Another voice rang out from the darkness.
(End of Chapter)
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