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Chapter 27: A Wrong Direction in the Investigation
🕑 Added 2025-10-07 15:46:44 +0000 UTC
“Lucas, I found Flint Marko’s trail,” Skye’s voice came through the earpiece. “Facial recognition confirms he appeared at both of the sand-related traffic accident sites.”
“Got it. I’m on my way back.”
Lucas exhaled, turned, and started walking back toward the Devil May Cry Detective Agency.
“Man, Batman’s tech really puts everyone else to shame,” he muttered under his breath. “Just a couple taps and you get instant footage. Jealous~”
Unlike Gotham’s billionaire with infinite toys, Lucas still had to head back to his office to see what Skye had dug up.
When he arrived, the footage was already on screen—clear images of Flint Marko.
As expected, Marko was a tall, muscular man. This time, however, he wasn’t wearing his signature green-and-black striped shirt; instead, he had on plain work clothes, probably to avoid drawing attention.
“Can we track where he went next?” Lucas asked.
“Nope,” Skye replied, shaking her head while spooning up some fig panna cotta from the mini-fridge. “The guy avoided every camera after that—completely vanished.”
Ever since Skye had tried the food Lucas made from the Final Fantasy world, she’d become hopelessly addicted. Once she realized Lucas could make more anytime, she insisted the fridge stay fully stocked.
Her favorite part? No matter how much she ate, she never gained weight. That discovery had turned her into a total foodie.
Lucas rubbed his chin, thinking. One name came to mind—S.H.I.E.L.D.
If Skye could hack into their system, finding Marko’s location would be easy.
After all, with HYDRA lurking in its shadows, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s surveillance network was one of the most comprehensive on the planet. They had eyes everywhere—so much so that one day, they’d even try to launch a system that could monitor the entire world.
“Skye,” Lucas said seriously, “I’ve got a new task for you. This might be the biggest challenge you’ve ever faced.”
He paused, realizing the risk.
If Skye hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D. and got caught, HYDRA would notice too. Then both agencies would come after them—either to capture or eliminate them.
Contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. was inevitable, but Lucas wasn’t afraid of Fury or HYDRA’s agents. What he worried about was his family. Gwen and Peter could protect themselves, but George and his family were ordinary people.
If S.H.I.E.L.D. found out about him, he’d just be watched. But if HYDRA did… they’d either brainwash or kill everyone close to him.
Being exposed was only a matter of time. Once S.H.I.E.L.D. learned his and Gwen’s identities, HYDRA would too.
Unless—
Lucas remembered something. Nick Fury kept a private classified file—so secret that even HYDRA hadn’t fully infiltrated it. That file contained the identities of certain enhanced individuals. If Lucas and Gwen could somehow end up in that file, they’d effectively vanish from HYDRA’s radar.
“Skye?” Her voice broke his thoughts. “You said something about a challenge? What kind?”
“…Never mind,” Lucas said after a pause. “Not yet. Forget it.”
He quickly dropped the idea. Exposing himself voluntarily would be beyond foolish—the consequences were impossible to predict.
“Oh,” Skye said, shrugging before turning her full attention back to the panna cotta.
Lucas leaned back and thought through everything he knew about Sandman. In his previous life, he hadn’t been a hardcore Marvel fan—he’d just seen a few movies. He remembered only that Flint Marko had turned to crime to pay for his daughter’s medical treatment.
“Skye, did you find Keemia’s medical records?”
“I did,” she said, scrolling on her laptop. “But there’s nothing serious—just some minor colds and fevers. No terminal illness.”
Lucas blinked. “Wait… so in this world, Sandman’s daughter isn’t even sick?”
“Where’s her mother then?” he asked after a moment’s thought.
“Divorced from Marko,” Skye replied. “She’s living in New York with Keemia now.”
She tapped a few keys and turned the laptop toward him. “Here. Their address—Queens. And check this out—the house even looks exactly like the one from Spider-Man 3.”
Lucas’s eyes widened slightly. “So this really is the same setup as the Marvel Spider-Man universe…”
He stared at the familiar photo—the same house, the same angle. It looked identical to the flashback scene where Marko’s daughter appeared in Spider-Man 3.
Now everything lined up.
All that was left was to locate Marko himself—or maybe…
He didn’t even need to look.
The realization hit Lucas all at once. He almost laughed at how hard he’d been overthinking it.
A guy like Flint Marko—a literal super-powered criminal—wouldn’t stay quiet for long. He was bound to cause a big enough scene soon enough. When that happened, Lucas would know exactly where he was.
His mood lifted instantly.
“Skye,” he said lazily, “from now on, just keep an eye on NYPD dispatch logs. If any reports mention sand—call me immediately.”
“Got it.”
Without hesitation, Skye cracked her knuckles and hacked straight into the NYPD’s emergency system, setting up an auto-filter for all sand-related incidents.
Lucas grabbed a chilled bottle of white peach juice from the bar and leaned back comfortably.
The rest of the day passed quietly.
At one point, Skye video-called little Keemia to update her on the investigation. The girl asked anxiously whether they’d found her father yet. Skye reassured her, saying they were getting closer, and even chatted briefly with Keemia’s mother.
Her mother had initially thought the whole “detective agency helping a little girl find her missing dad” story was a scam. But after seeing Skye on the call—and realizing they were actually serious—she was both shocked and touched.
After multiple promises that they’d find Flint soon, Skye ended the call.
“Boss,” she called out, stretching, “what’s for dinner tonight?”
“There’s food in the fridge. Help yourself.” Lucas was sprawled on the couch, half-asleep.
The fridge was already stocked with several days’ worth of meals. Thanks to his Cooking Skill, he didn’t even need to actually cook. As long as he had the ingredients, the dishes would appear perfectly made—fresh, fragrant, and ready to eat.
Night fell.
NYPD’s emergency dispatch center stayed as busy as ever—but there were no new sand-related incidents reported.
Lucas was still asleep the next morning when his phone buzzed.
“Mr. Norman,” said a cheerful voice—it was his real estate agent. “A woman’s interested in renting your apartment. When would be a good time to show it?”
Lucas yawned. “Anytime today’s fine.”
He hung up and immediately rolled over, half-asleep again.
At nine sharp, Skye woke him. “Lucas! The agent’s here—with the new tenant.”
