Beyond the Limit [DC fanfic]

Joseph felt good. It felt good to do good.

Life had been going easy for a bit. No loan sharks, no stolen goods, no running from the law—just school, ball, and good times.

That didn't last long.

The parties continued. People celebrated. But Joseph? He was already thinking ahead.

He was thankful nothing crazy had happened in Metropolis—trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went. But at one of those parties, he had let himself get drunk. A stupid mistake. In his drunken haze, he had worked up the courage to ask out Barbara after being dared to.

She shot him down immediately.

"Bald guys aren't my thing. And I'm focused on school right now, sorry."

He cringed every time he remembered it. Now things were awkward between them every time they sat together for their morning class. If he had hair, he'd pull it out of frustration. He was never letting himself get drunk again. Ever.

A lot of the team had been scouted after the game, exactly as he had hoped. His plan had worked. He had stayed in the background enough that cameras didn't catch just how crucial he was to the game. If he disappeared for a while, no one would ask too many questions.

And that's exactly what he was going to do.

Joseph used the excuse of "family business" in Bludhaven to dip school for a week. The fun times were over.

Now, it was time for business.

Enough time had passed.

It was time to crush Karoselle.

**

Joseph still hadn't replaced his outfit since it had burned and melted during the fire rescue. He kept meaning to, but it wasn't a priority. Before, his only concern was staying anonymous—rags would do just fine. The goal was to avoid attention, not win a fashion contest. But after experiencing firsthand how useful the right suit could be, he had started reconsidering.

For now, he settled for his classic outfit; another set of dark, useless clothes, a balaclava, and a fresh pair of swimming goggles. Gotham stores still stocked them for some reason, even though no sane person would willingly swim in Gotham waters.

Lately, he had been tailing Karoselle, gathering intel. It was good practice, and he had almost been caught more than once. But every close call sharpened his instincts. He mapped out the locations Karoselle operated from, feeding the data to Nova, who ran hundreds of simulations to pinpoint the likeliest stash spots for the loan shark's cash reserves.

Turns out, Karoselle owned an Italian restaurant.

Of course he did.

Joseph almost laughed. The cliches never stopped with this guy. What next, he was secretly a mafia boss too? 

Under the cover of night, Joseph infiltrated the restaurant. Moving through the shadows, he avoided the security cameras, his movements masked by Nova's silent alerts and tactical guidance. The nanites kept his breathing steady, his steps light. He slipped past the kitchen, past a security guard who had dozed off against a crate of tomato sauce, and into the office where Karoselle likely kept his records—and, if the simulations were right, a hidden stash.

//There is likely a compartment embedded in the floor beneath the desk.// It would have been impossible to find with the naked eye, but Nova was a different beast. With a simple mental command to Nova, Joseph's fingers became tougher as he worked the panel loose.

Stacks of bills. A lot of them. Some gold bars too.

Joseph had to resist the urge to whistle. The haul was impressive. More than he had expected. This wasn't just some emergency fund—this was real money. Cleaning Karoselle out wouldn't just set him back; it would cripple him.

Good.

Joseph grabbed as much as he could carry, stuffing the cash into the two duffel bags he had brought for the occasion. Then, just as he left the restaurant, Nova sent a sharp warning.

//Warning: Projectile incoming.//

Joseph didn't hesitate. He dove forward, barely avoiding something that splattered against the wall behind him.

A thick, red substance. Sticky. Familiar.

Webbing.

He looked up.

Perched on a telephone pole outside the window, silhouetted by the dim streetlights, stood Black Spider. He wasn't just watching—he was leering, golden eyepieces gleaming as he tilted his head slightly, sizing Joseph up like prey.

"Well, well," Black Spider said, voice dripping with amusement. "I was hoping to test my skills on a real target tonight, but instead, I get you."

Joseph adjusted his stance, subtly shifting the weight of the duffel bag. "You're acting like we got beef," he said, keeping his tone casual. "I don't even know you, bro."

Black Spider scoffed. "Oh, you will. You're a little too similar to me, y'know? Some knockoff act, running around my city. That's not gonna fly."

Joseph sighed. "I appeared only a few months after you, man. If you want some money you're more than happy to take the rest in the restaurant if that's what you're after." 

Black Spider laughed, then suddenly fired another web. Joseph dodged again, barely, more webbing sticking to the wall behind him.

"Let's see what you got, Reflux."

Joseph cursed under his breath. He didn't want this fight—at least, not here. Not now. If the cops got involved, it'd be a whole mess. And if Batman caught wind of this? Even worse.

He bolted, making for the alleyway behind the restaurant, hoping to lure Black Spider somewhere quieter.

But Black Spider was relentless. He swung after him, launching another web, barely missing Joseph's shoulder.

//Engaging Spider State.//

Joseph felt the familiar sensation of nanites shifting in his fingers, modifying his hands to grip surfaces with unnatural ease. Without breaking stride, he crawled straight up the nearest building, hands locking onto the wall like suction cups.

Black Spider let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, now you're just mocking me," he said as he launched a web ahead of him.

Joseph didn't respond. He just kept moving, hoping to get higher ground where he could plan his next move.

But Black Spider wasn't having it. He twisted mid-swing, planting his feet on the building and sticking to it effortlessly, arms crossed as he smirked down at Joseph.

"That's cute," he said. "But see, I don't need to rely on just my hands."

He pushed off, running up the wall with ease, full body clinging to the surface.

Joseph clenched his jaw. He could match the ability if he wanted to, but there was no way in hell he was walking barefoot in Gotham.

Black Spider grinned. "C'mon, let's dance."

Joseph exhaled sharply. Yeah. This was going to be a long night.