Leon worked through the entire night.
By morning, the surveillance program was finished.
He had connected it to camera systems throughout New York and linked the feeds back to his computer.
Whenever the software detected someone sufficiently similar to Rick Frey, it would flag the footage and save the relevant location.
The system wasn’t perfect.
The city’s cameras varied wildly in quality, and false positives were inevitable.
But Leon didn’t need perfection.
He only needed Rick to walk past the right camera once.
There was one problem.
Leon couldn’t spend every hour sitting in front of his computer.
Phones in this world weren’t nearly as capable as the smartphones he remembered from his previous life, so simply forwarding everything to his phone wasn’t a practical option.
Instead, Leon built a small alert device roughly the size of a button.
He stitched it into the cuff of his sleeve.
If the surveillance program found a potential match, the device would vibrate and grow warm.
That would tell Leon to get home and check the footage.
Simple.
Crude.
But effective.
Technology in this world continued to present him with opportunities.
Even before Ben’s death, Leon had considered taking advantage of the knowledge he carried from his previous life.
He’d already invested a significant amount of money into several industries he believed had enormous room for growth.
Those investments were still in their early stages.
For now, revenge came first.
Once Ben’s killers were dealt with, Leon intended to sit down and properly plan what came next.
He already had the beginnings of a much larger vision.
But that could wait.
After confirming that the program was running correctly, Leon finally collapsed onto his bed.
If he’d stopped halfway through the project, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to sleep properly anyway.
Venom watched him close his eyes and, for once, decided not to bother him.
Instead, the symbiote wandered over to the box of chocolate on Leon’s desk.
One tendril tore open wrappers.
Another delivered chocolate directly into its mouth.
Venom settled in comfortably.
It still hadn’t gotten the fresh brains it kept fantasizing about, but an unlimited supply of chocolate was an acceptable substitute.
For now.
Leon slept through the entire morning.
Then lunch.
It was somewhere around three or four in the afternoon when he finally opened his eyes.
Venom was lounging on the desk.
“You’re awake.” Burp.
Leon stared at it.
The symbiote had apparently eaten enough chocolate to put itself into a food coma and was now casually drinking something beside the nearly empty box.
“You’ve been busy.” Venom looked pleased with itself.
“Very.” Leon rubbed his face and sat up.
His stomach immediately reminded him that he’d skipped two meals.
“I’m hungry.” Venom perked up.
Leon sat on the edge of the bed for another minute before standing.
“Let’s get out of the house.” He stretched.
“Walk around.
Find something to eat.” Venom flowed from the desk toward his shoulder.
“Good idea.” Then, as though remembering something critically important— “And we should buy more chocolate.” Leon looked at the nearly demolished supply on his desk.
“You already need more?” “I’ve identified several brands I particularly enjoy.” “Of course you have.” Venom sounded proud.
Leon shook his head, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
For something with the appearance of a nightmare and enough teeth to traumatize children, Venom was surprisingly straightforward.
Its desires weren’t complicated.
Food.
Chocolate.
Fighting.
And lately, helping Leon.
In some ways, the alien was considerably less complicated than most humans he’d known.
Leon drove into the city and eventually stopped at a café.
Despite the name, the place served more than coffee.
There were sandwiches, pastries, desserts, and several other light meals.
Exactly what Leon needed.
He picked a quiet table, ordered some food, and opened a book while he ate.
It was an old collection of essays he’d read before.
Nothing related to school.
Nothing technical.
Just familiar writing he could relax with.
He already spent enough of his life buried in textbooks, research papers, and assignments.
When he read for pleasure, he preferred something that didn’t feel like work.
Leon took a sip of coffee and turned another page.
Under the table— Venom was having an entirely different dining experience.
A thin black tendril quietly pulled another plate out of sight.
Chocolate cake vanished beneath the table.
Then sausage.
Then more cake.
Leon looked down briefly.
Venom had already eaten three slices of chocolate cake.
He glanced toward the counter.
One of the employees was staring at him.
Leon looked at the several empty plates around his table.
Then back toward the hidden symbiote.
Great.
As far as the staff knew, Leon had personally demolished all of it.
They probably think I’m training for an eating contest.
Venom continued eating without the slightest concern for his reputation.
Leon sighed and returned to his book.
He’d deal with that problem later.
For a while, the café settled into comfortable background noise.
Pages turned.
Coffee gradually disappeared from his cup.
Then the light over his book dimmed.
Someone was standing beside the table.
Leon looked up.
A tall blonde woman with striking blue-green eyes stood there, looking down at him with amused exasperation.
“Watching you get this absorbed in a book explains a lot about your grades.” Leon blinked.
“Felicia?” Felicia Hardy raised an eyebrow.
Leon hadn’t expected to see anyone he knew today.
“What are you doing here?” Felicia Hardy had been in the same schools as Leon for years.
Like Peter Parker, she’d attended high school with him and later ended up at the same university.
She had seen Leon’s academic record firsthand.
He was consistently at or near the top of everything he touched, which explained her comment.
But despite knowing of each other since high school, Leon and Felicia hadn’t actually become acquainted until college.
They’d been assigned as partners in a science group.
That had finally forced them to spend real time together.
Back in high school, Leon had been something of a mystery to most students.
He had the grades.
The looks.
The athletic build.
But almost none of the social life people expected to accompany them.
The moment classes ended, Leon usually went home.
He didn’t attend many parties.
He rarely joined clubs unless they were academically useful.
He didn’t hang around after school without a reason.
Most of his spare time went toward studying, helping Ben, or working at Old York’s Pizzeria.
Naturally, rumors filled the gaps.
Some students insisted Leon was antisocial.
Others claimed he was obsessed with grades.
A few said there had to be something psychologically wrong with him because nobody could be that detached from high-school social life without a reason.
None of it had been based on anything substantial.
But teenagers rarely needed evidence for gossip.
Felicia had once been influenced by those rumors too.
She’d kept her distance during high school because she’d assumed Leon was cold, strange, or simply uninterested in dealing with other people.
Then college put them on the same science team.
She discovered almost immediately that most of what she’d heard was nonsense.
Leon was intelligent without constantly trying to prove it.
Easy to work with.
Polite.
Patient.
And considerably more approachable than his reputation suggested.
Once Felicia realized how badly gossip had distorted her impression of him, she’d felt genuinely embarrassed about ever believing it.
Since then, she’d developed a particular dislike for rumors built on nothing more than repetition.
And somewhere along the way, she and Leon had become friends.
Felicia looked down at him now.
Her eyebrow climbed a little higher.
“So?” Leon frowned.
“So what?” “Are you going to make me stand here for the entire conversation?” Her expression turned theatrically offended.
“Leon Carter, I expected better manners from you.” Leon realized what he’d done.
“Oh.” He immediately moved the book aside.
“Sorry.
Sit down.” Felicia smiled victoriously and took the seat across from him.
“I’ll forgive you this time.” Leon leaned back.
“So seriously—what brings you here?” “I finally escaped the house.” Felicia sighed dramatically.
“I’ve been traveling most of the summer, and after getting home I thought I’d enjoy doing absolutely nothing.” She shook her head.
“Turns out doing absolutely nothing gets boring incredibly fast.” “So you went shopping?” “I was planning to.” She smiled.
“Then I saw you in here.” Leon nodded.
“That is pretty random.” A server approached.
Leon gestured toward Felicia.
“What do you want?” Felicia glanced at the menu briefly.
“Latte.” The server took the order and left.
Leon still found the coincidence mildly surprising.
He’d barely left the house since the accident.
The first time he finally forced himself to go somewhere and relax, he happened to run into someone he knew.
Felicia rested one arm against the table.
“So.” Leon recognized the expression.
“What?” “How was your summer?” Her eyes narrowed playfully.
“Please don’t tell me you spent the entire break studying by yourself.” Leon paused.
“Nothing that exciting.” “That’s not an answer.” “Pretty much the same as usual.” The latte arrived.
Felicia picked it up.
Leon continued.
“I didn’t really travel anywhere.
Helped at the pizzeria, drove around the city a little, handled some personal projects.” Felicia gave him a look that said she’d expected exactly that answer.
“I knew it.” Leon smiled faintly.
Then Felicia seemed to remember something.
“Oh, speaking of the pizzeria—” Her expression brightened.
“How’s Grandpa York?” Leon’s hand stopped.
Felicia didn’t notice.
“I’ve been flying all over the place this summer, so I never got a chance to stop by.” She smiled excitedly.
“He promised me he’d make that cod pizza when I got back.” Leon said nothing.
Felicia continued cheerfully.
“So now that I’m finally home, I’m absolutely holding him to it.” Across the table, Leon managed a small smile.
But it no longer reached his eyes.
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