Peter WHY...

The night was thick with shadows, the moon hidden behind clouds, granting Peter the cover of darkness he needed for his clandestine mission. He perched on the edge of a nearby building, his eyes scanning the Enforcers' warehouse through binoculars. 

First things first, he thought, let's see who I'm dealing with. He counted the guards outside—thirty, just as he'd observed earlier. Each was armed, some patrolling with a lazy gait, others alert at their posts. Okay, so we've got the lazy ones and the sharp ones. I can work with that.

Next, he looked for cameras. To his surprise, there were none, at least none visible. No cameras? he mused. Either they're too confident, or they're hiding something. Either way, it's a win for me. With no digital eyes to worry about, he could move with relative impunity.

Peter descended silently, his black suit making him almost invisible against the night. He moved like a specter, his senses heightened by the thrill of the stealth mission. 

Let's start with the stragglers, he decided, creeping up behind the first guard who was smoking a cigarette, his back to the wall. With a swift, silent motion, Peter choked him out from behind, dragging the unconscious body to an isolated corner behind some crates. One down, twenty-nine to go. This could be fun.

He continued this method, picking off guards one by one with the precision of a seasoned predator. Each time, he observed, waited for the perfect moment, then struck, using his enhanced strength to render them unconscious without a sound. 

They really should invest in better security, he thought, a smirk hidden behind his mask. Or at least better awareness. It's like taking candy from a baby.

Once the outside was clear, he slipped through a side door into the warehouse. Inside, the space was vast, filled with crates, old machinery, and the faint hum of illicit activity. The number of gang members was denser here, their chatter echoing off the metal walls. Peter's heart pounded—not from fear, but from the rush of the challenge. More inside, huh? Time to pick up the pace.

He moved quicker now, using the shadows and the layout of the warehouse to his advantage. The bat on his back was no longer just for show; he swung it with calculated force, targeting heads to knock out members before they could alert others. Each hit was a testament to his agility and strength, but he avoided his webs—too identifiable. 

Keep it clean, Parker. No webs, no Spider-Man. The bodies he incapacitated were stashed behind large crates or in dark corners, out of sight of the remaining guards.

Finally, he reached the area where the safe was located, a steel door guarded by five members of The Enforcers, their posture relaxed but their eyes sharp. Peter retreated momentarily, finding a knocked-out guard from earlier. He took the man's gun, checked it for ammo—loaded, good to know—and returned to the safe room. 

With a deep breath, he threw one of the unconscious guards into the room, the body slamming into a corner with a thud. The sudden noise startled the five, their heads snapping towards the sound, confusion written all over their faces. 

Perfect distraction, Peter thought, adrenaline coursing through him. 

Before they could react, he stepped out, gun raised. Shots rang out, aimed at their arms, not to kill but to disable. The shock and pain caused chaos, their weapons dropping as they clutched their wounds. 

Sorry, guys, but you picked the wrong side, he thought, closing in. With the bat, he swiftly knocked each one unconscious, ensuring they wouldn't wake up anytime soon. 

Okay, safe time, he thought, catching his breath. The stealth mission had worked until that point, but now he was committed to a more direct approach. The safe loomed before him, the last obstacle to whatever treasure or information lay within. Let's see what you got inside, I really hope there's cash.

His heart raced, not just from the action but from the thrill of the heist. He was in now, deep in enemy territory, with only his wits and speed to rely on. The night was still young, and Peter Parker, in his anonymous black suit, was ready to uncover whatever lay beyond that steel door.