Chapter 29 to Chapter 35
After a long standoff at the base, Magneto, Eric, didn't get the answers he was seeking. His carefully laid plans were completely ruined, which left the militant mutant leader furious. In the end, he chose to leave, but not before venting his frustration. Everything valuable had either been destroyed or taken away.
As Magneto stormed off, he left behind a bitter parting remark.
Meanwhile, Wolverine, Logan, wandered into a laboratory filled with familiar equipment. The sight of it stirred fragments of long-lost memories, though they were disjointed and unclear. The headache that followed made it impossible for him to piece it all together, leaving him frustrated.
Later, Professor X and the others returned to the fighter jet. The younger generation were thrilled to see the professor and Scott safe. Finally, the X-Men received an explanation from Professor X.
A mysterious group had raided Stryker's test base. While the professor didn't know the full details of the battle, Logan, with his experience as a seasoned warrior, could tell from the state of the base that the attack had been a swift and brutal blitzkrieg. Stryker and his forces had been wiped out in less than five minutes, unable to even put up a fight. All surveillance data had been deleted, and anything of value had been meticulously stripped from the base.
This level of power and precision immediately raised alarm bells for Logan and the others.
In the resting cabin of the fighter jet, Storm, Ororo, turned to Scott and asked, "You had brief contact with them. Do you have anything to say, Scott?"
Scott sighed and replied, "They gave me the impression that they were very young—probably in their late teens or early twenties—but extremely powerful."
He spoke helplessly, adding extra emphasis on how powerful they were. He could barely recall anything else, having been drugged and hypnotized. Just as he was about to fight back, an enraged girl knocked him out with a single wave of her hand. The memory bruised his pride—being knocked unconscious by a girl was a blow he found hard to bear.
Ororo nodded thoughtfully. "Stryker is a military colonel who commands a specialized task force—his personal unit. Fully armed and stationed at the base, they were massacred in mere minutes. The level of skill and power needed to achieve that is something only a handful in the world could possess."
Jean shook her head in disbelief.
Stryker himself might not have been incredibly strong, but he had soldiers, weapons, and influence. He had managed to control both Professor X and Scott through his schemes and even launched a successful raid on the school. That alone demonstrated his capability.
Yet, despite all of this, he and his forces were taken down so easily. The group responsible for that must have been incredibly powerful. Everyone was discussing the situation, but none of them noticed the intrigued expressions on the faces of the younger team members.
Especially John, also known as Pyro. His eyes were filled with excitement. A group of young people had accomplished such a daring and decisive feat, and that was exactly the kind of life he longed for. If he could, he would join them in a heartbeat.
Meanwhile, the X-Men continued to analyze the situation.
Beast, with his muscular frame and blue fur, rubbed his head thoughtfully. "Stryker was a military colonel, and now that he's dead, we're going to have a serious problem."
As a former diplomat, Beast understood the hostility American society had toward mutants, especially from the government. Stryker's use of Nightcrawler to assassinate the president had already strained relations to the breaking point.
Now, with Stryker's death, the tension between mutants and the government was bound to escalate even further.
Logan and the other X-Men quickly realized the gravity of the situation. Their expressions grew somber as they considered the worsening environment for mutants in the days to come.
Professor X shook his head slightly. "Perhaps the situation isn't as dire as we think, Hank."
Beast, puzzled, asked, "Why do you say that?"
The professor smiled mysteriously. "Those mysterious individuals might surprise us."
In his mind, through the memories of the rescued children, Professor X had already glimpsed scenes from the base. He had witnessed the communication and expressions of those remarkable young people. He admired the strategic thinking of the one who seemed to be their leader.
The deleted data and erased surveillance footage gave him a strong hunch. He already had a guess about who they were. Now, he looked forward to the day when he could have a face-to-face conversation with that young man.
Yes, there was something a bit sinister about him, but how could he not feel a bit grateful to the one who saved both him and his students?
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In a secluded rental cabin deep in the Canadian wilderness, snow was falling heavily outside. But inside, the warmth from the fireplace made the atmosphere cozy and inviting.
Two pickup trucks were parked outside the wooden house, their tires covered in fresh snow. Inside, Natasha and Wanda were setting dinner plates and placing cappuccinos on the table, while the others eagerly prepared for dinner. This time of day always brought a sense of joy and comfort, especially when they all came together to cook.
The little girl, Clarice, had just finished washing up and changed into the clothes they had bought for her on the way. She looked refreshed and ready to join the group for dinner.
After tying her messy hair with a rubber band, the once dirty little girl now looked clean and beautiful. She sat quietly on the sofa, sipping hot milk in small, careful sips.
Leon and Natasha stood by the window, meticulously going over their haul from the base. In truth, the loot wasn't extensive. The base was primarily a testing facility, lacking any valuable military hardware.
The real prize was the Adamantium, an incredibly valuable material coveted by many. However, Leon had no plans to sell it. Quality resources like that were meant for his own people.
Beyond that, they'd also retrieved years of Stryker's research and test data, as well as some advanced military technology. The mutant experimentation data would be highly sought after by certain groups, like Hydra, and could easily fetch hundreds of millions. But Leon had no intention of selling it. Morally, he couldn't justify it. Even if he did, it would likely lead to his family alienating him.
The true valuable gain lay in the U.S. military technology. They had obtained advanced drone designs and heavy transport aircraft technology. Natasha mentioned that selling these to agents of the black market of various countries could bring in an enormous profit.
As for whether Leon dared to sell such sensitive tech? That didn't seem to concern him. There was very little he was afraid of.
"What price do you think they'll offer?" Leon asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
Natasha shrugged with a smirk. "Congratulations on becoming a billionaire, I guess."
…
It has to be acknowledged that the United States leads the world in both technology and military advancements, especially in the development of cutting-edge military equipment like drones and transport aircraft.
This highlights the immense value of technical blueprints for such equipment. With these schematics, even nations with moderate resources can potentially replicate or understand the technology, gaining access to crucial innovations.
These blueprints contain core technologies, and once fully understood, they can close the gap between nations and the U.S. in terms of military capability.
As a result, the U.S. keeps an extremely tight lid on its technology. Any potential leaks are met with swift action, involving intelligence agencies or even the military.
Those responsible for such betrayals face severe consequences, often labeled as treason.
The U.S. will never allow another country to rival its dominance in technological and military fields, which is why these secrets are so valuable.
Natasha wasn't exaggerating when she mentioned the value of such information; in fact, she may have even understated it. Leon understood this perfectly.
He glanced at Natasha, and she caught his meaning. She shrugged, "If you want to sell, I can definitely make it happen. But for security, I'll need some help."
"Who do you have in mind?" Leon asked.
"Wanda and Pietro. Wanda's abilities can read and even rewrite memories, which will help us maintain the utmost confidentiality."
"They will be contributing to this trip of yours, then," Leon nodded, confident in Natasha's expertise.
As for the unique properties of adamantium, it's incredibly dense, offering both extreme hardness and penetrative power.
While it may not be ideal for weaponry, its true value lies in its replicability.
Thanks to Natasha's download of the formula onto a USB drive, they now had access to it. In simple terms, they'd never run out of adamantium, and if they needed quick cash, they could sell it to the highest bidders.
This trip had been highly rewarding, and Leon was in a great mood. After the mission, he felt so good that he helped himself to a few extra bowls during the meal.
The group had gained two new members: Yuriko and Clarice. With Wanda present, there was no doubt about Yuriko's loyalty, but a conversation with the young girl, Clarice, revealed a surprise that thrilled Leon even more.
Clarice's ability was teleportation.
She possessed an energy that could distort space and create teleportation portals. After connecting the dots between her name and her ability, Leon realized who she was—future Blink. This revelation made him incredibly happy.
Blink's powers were formidable. Though Leon only knew a little about her, he remembered that when fully developed, her abilities could allow her to teleport across vast distances, even between Earth and the moon.
Even if her combat power wasn't the highest, her support abilities were invaluable.
Leon's heart softened towards the girl, and during the meal, he kept serving her vegetables, a gesture that made Clarice both happy and moved. She had been an orphan all her life and had never experienced such warmth and kindness.
During dinner, Leon asked Wanda and Pietro to help Natasha sell the technical blueprints and make some money. Without hesitation, they agreed.
Though the outside world was filled with chaos, inside the cozy wooden cabin, there was a sense of warmth and harmony. The group spent the night together, safe from the wind and snow.
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The next day, Leon and the group were preparing to return to the Ural Mountains. Of course, the young girl, Clarice, had been provided with a fake passport and identity, ensuring that boarding the plane wouldn't be an issue.
As they waited at the Canadian airport, something strange happened. The people walking around suddenly froze in place. It was as if time itself had stopped.
Leon, sitting calmly in a chair, didn't panic. He immediately noticed the old man in a wheelchair in front of him. Glancing around, he realized that this was no ordinary occurrence. The man had used his psychic abilities to construct an illusory world for this conversation.
However, this wasn't an invasion of his mind. Leon, who had mastered both Haki and advanced breathing techniques, was highly attuned to even the slightest disruptions. If he wanted to, he could easily break free from this illusion.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Leon. Please forgive me for using this method," said the old man.
Leon wasn't surprised that the man knew his name. After all, Sergei had mentioned it back at the base. What did surprise him was how quickly the man had found him—within less than a day.
"Professor X," Leon acknowledged with a slight nod, his tone cool.
The professor, unfazed by Leon's attitude, smiled gently. "Thank you very much for your help in saving me and those innocent children."
"I accept your thanks," Leon replied, cutting to the point without wasting time. He met the old man's gaze directly and continued, "Saving you was incidental. Our real goal was to eliminate that trash and rescue those people. But given the value of the information on this USB drive, I'd like to propose a deal."
The professor's expression remained calm. "Please, tell me your conditions, Mr. Leon."
"I need your help to build a stealth aircraft," Leon stated bluntly. "One that can evade radar and military satellites so I can travel the world without being tracked."
Although he had Blink on his side, the girl was still young and her teleportation abilities weren't fully developed yet. He needed something more immediate—a plane capable of avoiding detection.
Leon was confident in Beast's inventive skills, and the professor, after a few moments of thought, nodded. "It may take some time."
"Is one year enough?" Leon asked.
"Of course, that's sufficient."
"Good. You can have your people retrieve the USB drive."
"Thank you very much," the professor replied, his tone warm. "If you need anything else, feel free to reach out. We'll do our best to assist."
Whoosh!
The illusion shattered in an instant, and the world around Leon resumed its normal flow. The crowd at the airport continued bustling as if nothing had happened. Only Sergei and a few others, more attuned to their Haki senses, noticed the subtle shift in Leon's demeanor.
Ignoring their questioning glances, Leon turned his head slightly. Not far away, a woman with burgundy hair was watching him.
As the boarding announcement echoed through the airport, Leon stood up and motioned for everyone to follow, leaving the woman behind without a second glance.
But on his seat, a USB flash drive remained, quietly waiting.
…
The news of Colonel Stryker's death couldn't be kept from the U.S. government for long. While a colonel's rank in the military isn't particularly high, Stryker's influence went beyond his title.
As a military scientist with deep connections, his role was significant, especially after the assassination of the U.S. President by a mutant.
Stryker had eagerly proposed a plan to counter the mutant threat, and although the government had likely been aware of his raid on the Mutant Academy, they turned a blind eye.
However, Stryker's sudden death drew immediate suspicion toward the mutant community. His demise sparked major concern in the U.S. government, likened in gravity to the President's assassination.
Some high-ranking officials and members of Congress believed this marked an all-out war declaration from mutants against the United States.
While the government was debating a possible widespread purge of mutants, a bombshell report surfaced, igniting the internet and public opinion.
This document detailed Stryker's inhumane experiments on mutants over the past decade, including shocking and gruesome videos that were beyond comprehension.
The world reacted with outrage. These experiments transcended politics and global power struggles—no one cared about Stryker's status as a U.S. military figure.
His actions violated basic human decency, and the global community was united in its condemnation. Stryker's atrocities caused an international uproar.
Within 24 hours, social media was flooded with furious posts. The backlash was so intense that some servers crashed due to the volume of activity. Major news outlets hastily added special reports, unleashing criticism on Stryker, the military, and the government.
This media frenzy was a goldmine for ratings, and news networks were unafraid of any future government reprisals.
Meanwhile, the federal government and military found themselves in an increasingly untenable position, struggling to contain the damage from this global scandal.
Public criticism quickly turned against both the government and military. There had long been an unspoken agreement between the two regarding human experimentation. While they neither openly endorsed it nor opposed it, they were willing to look the other way as long as it remained hidden and provided tangible benefits. But once exposed, they had no choice but to face the consequences.
The public, now furious, didn't care whether the government and military were directly involved—they demanded accountability. Under pressure, the White House spokesman made a hasty statement, claiming that Stryker's actions were entirely his own and that the federal government was unaware of them. The military spokesman echoed this, but the damage was already done.
Attempts to control public outrage and manage the narrative proved ineffective. The situation had escalated beyond containment, and any efforts to suppress public opinion were futile. In a bid to stabilize the situation, the government and military quickly found scapegoats, forcing several officials to resign to pacify the public.
As for any plans targeting the mutant community, they were quietly shelved.
Meanwhile, at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in New York, the academy—which had been left in disarray after Stryker's surprise attack—was restored after some much-needed repairs.
"We deeply apologize to the world and the mutant community for the Stryker incident."
In the principal's office, the X-Men and the professors watched the White House spokesperson's apology on the monitor in front of them. Scott and Logan finally let out a sigh of relief. It seemed the mutant crisis had passed.
Even as the media attention would soon fade, the status and treatment of mutants would likely improve. After all, human nature tends to sympathize with the oppressed. Despite the earlier distrust and disdain for mutants, the exposure of the human experiments would grant them public sympathy and a more favorable environment, at least for a while.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"It's finally over," Logan muttered, a cigar in his mouth. He twisted his neck, clearly displeased. He was probably the most frustrated among them—he hadn't gotten to kill anyone.
"Thankfully, Leon's people were well-prepared. Otherwise, we might've been targeted and purged," Ororo said, crossing her arms with a relieved expression. All she wanted now was a few days of rest.
"But who are they?" Beast asked, standing beside the desk. "From their strength and how careful they were, it's hard to believe they're just a group of young people under twenty."
The others nodded in agreement. The situation had been resolved so quietly, almost anticlimactically, with a potentially fierce battle being avoided. Yet they still didn't know who had come to their aid.
Professor X listened quietly as the group exchanged thoughts, then turned his attention to Jean, who had remained silent. In his gentle voice, he asked, "Jean, you've met Mr. Leon and his group. What do you think of them?"
The others shifted their focus to Jean, curious about her response.
After a brief moment, she thoughtfully replied, "The first impression they gave me was one of purity and clarity, but more like being among a pride of lions."
"A pride of lions?" Storm raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Yes," Jean nodded, her voice soft but firm. "They're like young lions, and Leon is undoubtedly their lion king. When he and I locked eyes, it was something I'll never forget. His gaze... it wasn't just looking at me, it felt like he was seeing through me, straight into my soul."
Scott scratched his chin, puzzled by Jean's description. "That's a strange way to put it."
Professor X, however, seemed to understand. "Jean's right. Leon leads these young lions with purpose. They're strong and kind, with a shared goal. Though their pasts may be unknown, they are not our enemies. In fact, they might become our allies."
"Friends whose origins are unclear still warrant some caution," Storm pointed out.
"True," Professor X agreed. "But for now, they've saved us and helped avert a crisis. That's worth remembering."
"That much is good," Beast Hank chimed in, nodding. Then, with a wry smile, he added, "Though we still owe them a plane. Are you sending me any help with that, Professor?"
Chuckling, Professor X replied, "That part's on you, Hank."
"Luckily, I had already started work on building new aircraft. It's just a bit of extra trouble now," Hank sighed. "I do wonder how they were so certain we'd be able to replace that plane so easily."
…
"Of course I'm sure. That guy is a beast when it comes to inventions," Leon said confidently, lounging on the sofa in the wooden villa.
Pietro raised an eyebrow. "You know the fighter jet you're talking about has vertical lift tech, an optical engine, radar shielding, and space penetration capabilities, right? Even the United States can't develop something like that."
"It does sound like an impressive fighter, but can a mutant really invent something like that?" Pietro added skeptically.
Sergei, wearing a blue sweater and carrying a glass of water, sauntered over with a smirk. "Oh? Pietro, are you doubting Boss Leon?" His tone was teasing, but Pietro's stomach dropped as he glanced at Leon, who was now giving him a half-smile, the kind that said, Are you questioning me?
Quickly backtracking, Pietro stammered, "No way! I would never doubt Boss Leon. I was just asking! Don't try to stir things up between us."
He pointed accusingly at Sergei and the other guys snickering on the sofa, clearly annoyed.
"Brother Pietro seems like such a suck-up," Alina remarked casually, hugging the little sable as she sat watching TV with her sisters. Her words hit Pietro like an arrow straight to the heart.
"Ahh!" Pietro dramatically clutched his chest, his eyes wide with disbelief. "A suck-up? Really?"
In his mind, he was just being smart! If he didn't sweet-talk Leon, he knew what would happen—intense, doubled training sessions, or worse, getting righteously beaten in sparring. He was merely a man trying to survive! Why was the world so harsh?
Pietro's inner thoughts were a whirlwind of despair. Why me? Why is life so difficult?
Alina's innocent expression only made it worse, leaving Pietro even more exasperated and speechless.
"Haha, looks like Alina really got you, Pietro," Sergei laughed, shaking his head.
"Hey man, my advice? Take a breather outside before you blow a fuse," one of the others teased.
Pietro slumped on the sofa with the exaggerated air of someone abandoned by the world, exiling himself from the group. But that didn't stop Sergei and the others from laughing and continuing to poke fun at him.
It was clear—they were all more than happy to keep teasing him.
The atmosphere in the wooden villa was warm and inviting. Clarice, sitting with Alina and her sisters watching TV, finally felt her worries ease. Following Leon to this unknown place had been the biggest gamble of her life, but it seemed she had made the right choice. Leon's brothers and sisters were all good people, and she felt at home here.
As she stole a glance at Leon, he noticed and returned her look with a gentle smile. It made Clarice flustered, caught off guard by his kindness. Leon smiled softly, then stood up and stepped outside.
As expected, Yuriko was there, standing by the door in a sweater, holding a glass of cold water, staring at the heavy snowfall. Her eyes were distant, filled with confusion. She turned when she heard the creak of Leon's footsteps on the wooden floor.
Leon joined her and broke the silence, "Feeling a bit out of place?"
Yuriko nodded, answering honestly, "It's warm here, and nice... but I always feel like I don't belong." She paused, her eyes reflecting the painful memories she had. All she remembered were the brutal scenes of being controlled by Stryker, leaving her feeling like a lost, homeless beast who had suddenly stumbled into a warm home. It was unsettling.
Leon understood the feeling well. It was like Yuriko was a veteran suffering from post-war stress, unable to adapt to normal life after years on the battlefield. But Leon wasn't worried—he knew she would eventually find her place here.
Yuriko couldn't blend into an ordinary family. But were they really ordinary people?
"Do you trust me?" Leon asked, his approach to Yuriko simple and direct, unlike how he handled others.
Yuriko looked directly at him. After a few seconds of locking eyes with Leon, whose gaze was clear yet carried a quiet authority, she instinctively lowered her head and nodded. "I trust you because I can sense how you truly feel about me."
"Good," Leon said, patting her on the shoulder. "Time will prove your choice right. We won't restrict you. Just open your heart and be ready for the future."
He smiled lightly before adding, "Besides, I don't think you'll have much time to worry about fitting in. You're a natural-born warrior."
What he really meant was that she just needed proper training. Once they started, Yuriko wouldn't have much time to think about anything else. And given her exceptional healing ability, the intensity of the training he had planned for her would far exceed what others could handle.
Yuriko felt a little confused but suddenly shivered, unsure why. Maybe it was just the cold, she thought, glancing at the sweater she wore.
ROAR! ROAR!!
Just then, two loud roars echoed from a distance. Instinctively, Yuriko's eyes widened as she went on full alert. Like a predator ready to pounce, she stared into the dark jungle, prepared for any attack.
BANG!
In the next moment, to Yuriko's shock, two swift figures cut through the night like bolts of lightning, appearing right in front of the wooden house. A powerful gust of wind followed, scattering snow in all directions.
In the light from the doorway, the figures of Wanda and Natasha became clear.
They're so fast... Yuriko thought, stunned. She could clearly see their faces now, and though she lowered her guard, the surprise lingered. The roars she heard earlier—were they just the sound of their movements?
Back at the base, Leon had kicked her to the ground, but she'd never seen anyone else in action. She hadn't fully grasped the fighting strength of Wanda and the others, but their explosive speed screamed danger.
"Hey, good evening, two beautiful ladies," Leon greeted casually, waving at them.
Natasha and Wanda ascended the steps side by side. "Congrats again, Leon," Natasha smirked, "you're about to become a billionaire just like I said."
…
"In my own special way, I've contacted members of an organization, met with their leader, and we've reached an agreement to cooperate," Natasha said, sitting on the sofa in the wooden villa, sipping her tea.
Leon, sitting nearby, nodded for her to continue.
"The two designs are priced at $1.5 billion each. If the deal goes through, you'll be a billionaire," Natasha teased, playfully patting Leon on the shoulder. "I'll need some pocket money for cosmetics and new clothes."
Leon rolled his eyes. "This is our money. You handle it."
Even though he was on the verge of earning $3 billion, Leon wasn't overly excited. There were plenty of ways for him to make money, and he wasn't particularly tempted. But the others—well, that was a different story.
Immediately, a chorus of excitement erupted.
"Wow, Boss Leon! We're gonna be rich! I want to buy game consoles, gear, and a new computer!"
"I want new headphones!"
"I need new clothes—the old ones are starting to feel too small!"
Sergei, Pietro, and the others eagerly raised their hands, voicing their desires.
In the past, Leon had taken good care of everyone when he had money—no one lacked electronics, clothes, or essentials. Still, it was never quite enough, as the family's needs were vast. Everyone was considerate, avoiding excessive spending.
But now, with $3 billion on the horizon, things were different. Such an enormous amount instantly sparked everyone's shopping dreams. Even the three little ones—Alina and her friends—excitedly asked for more snacks. They weren't too interested in toys, but they were eager for treats.
As a large group gathered around Leon, eyes shining with excitement, he deflected, saying, "Don't look at me. Natasha is our financial officer now. All expenses have to be approved by her. I suggest you ask her nicely."
Pietro, quick to react, used his super speed to grab ice cream and other treats from the fridge and placed them in front of Natasha in an instant. He then zipped behind her, gently massaging her shoulders like a loyal servant.
In a flattering tone, he said, "Oh, beautiful and generous Ms. Natasha, your beauty rivals that of Venus, and your kindness matches Prometheus. Surely, you won't refuse the humble request of your most loyal Pietro."
The rest of the group crowded around Natasha, showering her with attention—massaging her legs, rubbing her arms. Even Alina and the little ones joined in, dragging Clarice along. They all piled onto Natasha's lap, their little faces flushed and wide-eyed, looking up at her expectantly like eager puppies.
Even Wanda found herself squeezed out, which made her immediately annoyed. "Hey, Pietro, I've never seen you treat me this well!" she said, crossing her arms.
"Ha! Wanda, trust me—right now, Natasha is family," Pietro shot back, not even turning around as he delivered his playful jab.
Wanda fumed, nearly tempted to use her chaos magic on him. Leon, meanwhile, slapped his leg and burst into laughter.
Natasha, fully aware of the game, maintained her composure, playing the role of a supreme, elegant goddess. She leaned back, enjoying the attention with a regal air.
"Alright, alright, Pietro. A little more on my shoulder, please," she instructed calmly. "Yes, and don't forget the left arm. By the way, the ice cream's great."
As Alina fed her spoonfuls of ice cream, Natasha continued to direct her loyal minions with poise. Pietro, ever the flatterer, cooed, "Beautiful Ms. Natasha, how are our skills?"
"Very impressive," Natasha responded, clearly pleased with his groveling. "Let me know what you want to buy in the future."
Pietro let out a joyful "Wuuuuuuu!" and zipped away, reappearing moments later with pen and paper, ready to start drafting his shopping list.
Pietro let out a joyful "Wuuuuuuu!" and zipped away, reappearing moments later with pen and paper, eager to start drafting his shopping list.
Seeing this, the others began chattering excitedly and followed suit. Natasha responded to each of them patiently, and soon, everyone was buzzing with energy, heading off to make their own lists just like Pietro.
Watching the lively crowd retreat noisily to the second floor, Leon smiled and shook his head. This bunch... As expected, they were still young and easily swayed by Natasha. Now that she had control of the finances, he knew she'd make them work for every penny.
Yuriko, sitting nearby on the sofa, observed the scene. Her eyes softened, seeing the camaraderie. Is this what a family feels like? She found herself wondering why she had the sudden urge to belong.
With everyone else upstairs, only Leon, Natasha, Wanda, and Yuriko remained on the first floor. Natasha's playful demeanor shifted, her expression growing serious.
"Although our mission went smoothly, I noticed something odd," she began. "It seemed like someone was tracking us—or maybe just me."
"Could it be Dreykov's men?" Leon asked, frowning.
Since Natasha joined them a year ago, she had rarely gone out. If Dreykov's people were still after her, it was strange they would target her so quickly. Had they never stopped looking?
"I'm not sure," Natasha admitted, "but it feels like there are two different groups following us."
"Two groups?" Leon echoed, his frown deepening.
"Two groups?" Leon echoed, his frown deepening.
"Yes," Natasha confirmed. "One might be Dreykov's men, but the other group is much more elusive and patient. Wanda and I noticed them several times, but every time we tried to track them, they vanished almost instantly. It's rare to encounter such skill."
Natasha nodded, her tone serious. Over the past year, she had grown far stronger. Trained and conditioned from a young age, her physical fitness had always been exceptional. Now, with the addition of the rhythmic breathing technique that quickly strengthened her body, combined with her mastery of two forms of Haki, her skills were even sharper. While she hadn't reached full concentration, her perception was still top-notch, especially with Wanda by her side.
Wanda, using her heightened senses and ability to detect auras, was able to pinpoint subtle movements with remarkable precision. For their stalkers to evade both of them suggested they were dealing with a highly skilled adversary.
"It's interesting," Leon mused. "Could they be Hydra?"
He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No matter who they are, they'll slip up eventually. But we should move our plans forward. We need to track down Dreykov, eliminate him, make it look like an accident, and take control of his hidden assets."
Dreykov was no small player. He controlled vast resources, including the infamous Red Room, which trained a large network of spies. However, he was also under the watchful eye of S.H.I.E.L.D. Even if Leon didn't act, S.H.I.E.L.D. might find an opportunity to eliminate him. Dreykov's overt assets were too risky to touch, but his hidden resources—those could be fair game, and Natasha understood this perfectly.
…
When Dreykov's name was mentioned, a cold glint flashed in Natasha's eyes. This man had been the source of her greatest suffering, forcing her into hiding for years because of his power. But now, she no longer feared him.
"I won't get involved directly," Leon said. "You all can handle it. Have Wanda control Dreykov to transfer the assets useful to us, and sell off the ones we don't need. Avoid touching anything too obvious—it'll draw attention."
"Got it. I'll make a plan," Natasha replied without hesitation.
With Natasha and Wanda on board, Leon felt a sense of relief. He trusted them completely. As for himself, he knew he needed time to regroup and recover after the recent events.
The sun shone brightly over Brazil, its rays illuminating everything in their path. In front of a luxurious hotel, a sleek Rolls-Royce pulled up.
As the doorman respectfully opened the door, a Russian man in a sharp suit stepped out, flanked by several muscular bodyguards. The group made their way into the grand hotel, taking the elevator directly to the restaurant.
At a table near the floor-to-ceiling window, someone was already waiting— a man wearing glasses, with three bodyguards standing behind him. Seeing the Russian approach, the man with glasses stood up and extended his hand.
"Mr. Dreykov, a pleasure to meet you," he said.
"Likewise, Mr. Walker. I believe we'll find our partnership beneficial," Dreykov replied.
The bodyguards on both sides kept a discreet distance, far enough to give privacy, but close enough to act if needed.
Dreykov and Walker sat at the table, sipping wine and enjoying the chef's gourmet dishes while they discussed their business. Hours passed, and by the end of their meal, both men stood and shook hands, sealing the deal. Dreykov left with a satisfied smile.
It had been a successful negotiation, and Dreykov was in a good mood. He decided to extend his stay in Brazil, booking a presidential suite in the luxurious hotel. After washing up, he donned a white bathrobe, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out over the city and the distant coastline.
The view was breathtaking. Everything seemed perfect.
But as he admired the beauty of the city, a dark thought crossed his mind, clouding his mood. A face appeared in his memory—the ace spy he had personally trained, the one who had betrayed him.
"Natasha..." he muttered under his breath, his expression turning grim.
Her defection had taught him a bitter lesson: when a tool becomes self-aware, it can no longer be controlled.
"If there's one, a second will inevitably follow."
This was something Dreykov could not tolerate. To him, those spies were his property—assets that had no right to develop self-awareness.
But he had found a solution: pheromones. A compound designed to control his spies, ensuring they would submit completely to his will.
Still, Natasha's mysterious disappearance left a sour taste in his mouth. As the head of the Red Room, he knew just how deadly the spies he trained could be. If she ever sought revenge, it would mean living in constant fear.
"I'll find you, Natasha," he growled, downing his whiskey in one gulp. His tone was venomous.
But before he could relish his anger, a familiar voice, rough and cold, cut through the air.
"I don't think you need to find me, Dreykov. I'm right here."
It was like being struck by lightning. Dreykov's entire body froze, a surge of terror swelling inside him. He couldn't believe it. Though he hadn't yet turned around, he could feel the presence behind him—something dangerous, a predator lurking just out of sight.
With stiff movements, Dreykov slowly turned and saw two women standing behind him.
One of the women was Natasha, dressed in a striking red leather jacket. The other was a young woman in a gray sweater, unfamiliar to Dreykov.
A year had passed since he'd last seen Natasha, and to his surprise, she seemed different. The strongest spy he had ever commanded appeared to be thriving, and her demeanor had shifted. She used to be cold, a tool devoid of emotion. Now, there was something else—something more human about her.
Natasha smirked, a glint of danger in her striking green eyes. "Miss me, boss?"
Dreykov, ever the cunning old fox, discreetly glanced at the closed door behind them. His hand, hidden in his pocket, kept pressing the alarm, but no one came. This told him everything. The bodyguards outside, and even the secret sentries he had placed, had been dealt with.
His heart sank. Taking a steady breath, he feigned calm and said in a deep voice, "Natasha, it's been a while. Your defection... made me sad for quite some time."
"Sad?" Natasha tilted her head, tearing through Dreykov's mask of hypocrisy. "I think you were more angry—angry enough to want to tear me to pieces."
"How could I be?" Dreykov's expression didn't falter. "You were the best spy I ever trained."
Natasha's eyes narrowed, her voice icy and unrelenting. "The veil hides your ugliness, Dreykov, and it makes me sick. You've caused countless tragedies, destroyed so many families."
Her words cut deeper as her tone grew colder. "You should pay the price for that."
"You know, Natasha, even if you kill me, nothing will change. You'll face even more relentless revenge and pursuit," Dreykov said, his voice trembling as the reality of his impending death sank in. His back was drenched in sweat. He couldn't fathom how much Natasha had changed in the year she'd been gone.
Natasha sneered. "Your wealth, your empire—it will all be ruined. And I'll make sure you die after seeing it crumble." Her eyes glinted with cold amusement. "And if you're still counting on your bodyguards..."
Bang!
The door behind Dreykov flew open, revealing Sergei, towering and formidable. In one hand, he held two unconscious women in tight combat suits, and in the other, he effortlessly carried another. With a casual motion, he threw them to the ground.
Dreykov's hope drained as he looked at the unconscious Black Widows at his feet. His desperation deepened.
At a subtle signal from Natasha, Wanda's eyes glowed red. The swirling red energy of her chaos magic enveloped Dreykov. His eyes turned crimson, and the fear and despair in his expression were quickly replaced with a vacant, dull stare.
…
In an underground base nestled in the Eastern European mountains, Dreykov stood on a steel platform, looking down at the rows of women clad in tight combat uniforms. His eyes were filled with despair as he gazed at them.
Each woman's expression was empty, cold, and ruthless—like soulless machines.
"No, no, no! They're all my assets, you devils," Dreykov muttered, remembering the horrifying actions he had been forced to take under mind control.
He had personally transferred his vast fortune—assets hidden in gray areas—into secret accounts prepared by Natasha. Some of his less valuable holdings had even been sold off. While his visible wealth remained untouched, it was these hidden, illicit assets that he relied on.
The Black Widows he had trained were his foundation, the key to building his empire quickly. His grand plan to manipulate the world economy had only just begun, and now it was slipping from his grasp.
This blow was worse than death for Dreykov.
"They're just a bunch of tragic souls, Dreykov. People like you are destined for hell," Natasha whispered coldly, standing beside him. "You'll use your own fortune to free them, and all the wealth you stole from them will be used for charity, to help them find their families."
She leaned in, her voice even softer, "Your end will come in a dark, lonely alley, and you'll witness it all helplessly until your final breath."
Dreykov's face contorted with rage. "You think you've won, Natasha? You have no idea what you're dealing with. These women are more than just assets—they're my legacy!"
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Your legacy is one of pain and suffering. It ends today."
"You can't undo years of conditioning," Dreykov spat. "They'll never be normal again."
"Maybe not," Natasha conceded, her voice steady. "But they'll have a chance at freedom. Something you never gave them."
Killing Dreykov would have been easy, but Natasha wasn't interested in simple vengeance. She wanted him to suffer, to feel the weight of his sins. The women he exploited, the Black Widows, would be freed. They would be reunited with their families and given a chance at a normal life. This was the only justice Natasha could offer them.
With a nod, she signaled Wanda. Wanda stepped forward, her hand glowing with the power of chaos magic. She reached out, and her magic seeped into Dreykov's mind, rewriting his will.
"What are you doing to me?" Dreykov screamed, his eyes wide with terror.
Wanda's voice was calm but firm. "Ensuring you can never hurt anyone again."
From that moment on, he would become a puppet, acting only to carry out the liberation of the Black Widows. As Natasha had promised, once his task was done, Dreykov would meet his end in obscurity.
Inside, Dreykov screamed, his soul trapped, furious and desperate. But no one could hear him. All he could do was watch his underground empire collapse and vanish before his eyes.
Natasha and Wanda walked out of the base, side by side. Outside, Sergei, wearing a vest that revealed his muscular frame, leaned against the front of a Hummer, arms crossed, waiting for them.
"Is it done?" Sergei asked, his voice gruff but tinged with concern.
Natasha nodded. "It's over. Dreykov's reign of terror ends today."
The three of them climbed into the Hummer and gazed at the bright sun in the sky. Natasha, sitting in the back seat, let out a long sigh of relief. A weight had finally been lifted.
"Finally resolved," she said softly. "Now I can get back to training."
In the driver's seat, Sergei stretched, then started the engine. Natasha smiled as she glanced at the USB drive in her hand, while Wanda, sitting in the passenger seat, looked back through the rearview mirror with curiosity.
"Sister Natasha, how much did you make from selling Dreykov's gray assets?" Wanda asked.
"The true value isn't just in money," Natasha replied with a knowing smile.
"Not money?" Wanda raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. Dreykov had bigger ambitions than I expected. He was trying to build an aerial fortress, and I found the technical blueprints for it. Let's go—this is going to be quite the surprise for Leon."
Wanda's curiosity grew as Natasha's mysterious smile widened. The data from Dreykov's database had revealed an unexpected twist, and Natasha knew Leon would be shocked by what they'd uncovered.
As they drove, Sergei broke the silence. "An aerial fortress? Sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie."
Natasha chuckled. "Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction, Sergei. Dreykov was always thinking big."
"But is it even possible?" Wanda asked, her voice filled with wonder.
"With the right resources and technology, anything's possible," Natasha replied. "And now we have both."
Meanwhile, on the edge of a cliff by a waterfall, Leon sat on a rock, staring at the screen of his tablet. His eyes gleamed as he scrolled through the information. Natasha had sent the the content of the USB drive to him before she even arrived.
"What a big surprise," he muttered to himself, intrigued by what he saw.
"The Sky Fortress... if we can build this, we'll have a mobile base camp that can disappear at any time," Leon said, scrolling through the technical drawings and detailed information. The technology was mature and ready for construction.
As the Hummer pulled up, Leon looked up from his tablet. Natasha approached, a hint of excitement in her usually composed demeanor.
"I see you've already started digging into the data," Natasha said, nodding at the tablet.
Leon stood, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Natasha, this is incredible. Do you realize what we could do with this technology?"
"I have some ideas," Natasha replied with a smirk. "But I'm sure you've thought of even more."
This revelation caught Leon off guard, but Natasha tempered his excitement. "Even with the blueprints, it will take several years to complete, even if Dreykov had the manpower to build it."
"We've got time," Leon shrugged.
Natasha smiled, knowing Leon's determination. "I'll make sure to invest part of the base's funds each year for the fortress."
"Especially since we've got Dreykov's money now," Leon added with a grin. He hadn't just broken even—he'd made a considerable profit. After a moment of thought, he added, "We should also keep in touch with the people at the base. We might need them down the road."
"Understood," Natasha replied with a nod.