In the split second that Aiden's attention lapsed, Natasha skillfully elbowed his ulnar nerve. The natural reaction caused Aiden's arm to numb, and his grip loosened; the gun fell to the ground, followed swiftly by Natasha's tactical knife thrusting straight for Aiden's face.

Aiden dodged sharply, pain flaring in his shoulder as the knife buried itself deep into his arm—evidence of the woman's formidable strength.

Then, with a fierce motion, Aiden threw Natasha off. However, her movements didn't halt; the knife carved through Aiden's shoulder, opening a wide gash.

After several rolls, Natasha crouched on the ground, panting heavily. She raised her gun, not aiming at Aiden, but elsewhere.

Bang!

A shadow behind a pillar hastily retreated, the bullet grazing the stone, narrowly preserving a life.

"Right, hide well. Compared to facing him, you'd prefer not to face me, wouldn't you?" Natasha spoke up, slowly rising to her feet. She looked over at the silent Aiden nearby and said, "Why let me go? Don't tell me you've been dazzled by my beauty."

The young Natasha in front of Aiden was about 16 or 17 years old, roughly the same age as him. Her features were still immature compared to the mature and sensual Black Widow she would become, but Aiden couldn't deny Natasha's beauty.

Clearly, the current Natasha differed from the composed spy Aiden remembered. She was cocky, defiant, and not the cold operative he had in mind.

"You know me?" Natasha's demeanor grew serious as she sensed something in Aiden's gaze.

"To some extent." Aiden, without hesitation, tore off his sleeve and made a makeshift bandage for his arm, ignoring the dangerous femme fatale before him.

"You dare to ignore me!" Natasha raised her gun to Aiden's head in a fury.

"Go ahead and try. I won't let that happen again," Aiden said with a scoff, leaning against the wall and biting on the torn fabric, his speech slightly muffled.

Without hesitation, Natasha pulled the trigger, but the gun didn't budge. With enough preparation and concentration, Aiden could freeze small objects in place.

"That's why I call you a false myth, you damned freak." Natasha tried to lower her arm, but the gun remained fixed in mid-air. She yanked it down to no avail.

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The commotion clearly alerted others to the situation, sparking an immediate crisis.

The shadow behind the pillar stood against it, excitement in her eyes as she watched the unfolding events reflected in the blade of her knife.

Whoosh—the knife, used as a makeshift mirror, was flung out, silent and swift, embedding itself in Natasha's ponytail and abruptly stopping mid-air.

The gun in Natasha's hand also fell, and once again, Aiden had saved her. This all happened in mere moments, though it seemed much longer in the telling.

"Well done," Natasha gritted her teeth, her eyes filled with murderous intent as she spun around, her knife stuck in her hair creating a comical sight.

"Drip, drip."

"Oh, damn it," Natasha's murderous facade collapsed as she quickly rolled forward.

Simultaneously, Aiden lunged forward just as the second floor collapsed with a thunderous crash. Dust and debris filled the air, and the palace seemed like a demolition site for a moment.

Hiss!

When Natasha came to her senses, her adversary from moments ago had already had his throat slit by a combat knife, lifeless on the ground.

Fierce gunfire erupted from below the collapsed corridor. In the lower hallway, two young women brandished submachine guns, spraying bullets upward.

Still dazed, Natasha was scooped up by Aiden, who quickly fled with her in tow.

Blood flowed freely from Aiden's poorly bandaged arm, making any attempt at stealth nearly impossible.

"I don't know why you spared me the first time and then saved me again and again, but I know you shouldn't have exposed your back to me," Natasha said, receiving a snort from Aiden in response.

Ultimately, Natasha refrained from acting. Aiden tossed her onto the third-floor staircase like a sack of flour.

"Hey! You do realize you're my target, right?" Natasha climbed to her feet, her face flushed with anger.

"You want the credit? Hide well, and I promise you'll be the only one left alive besides me," Aiden extended his hand, and a pistol flew out from the belt of a distant corpse.

Holding his injured arm, Aiden quickly checked the gun to find only one bullet left.

Natasha watched Aiden's actions, her expression uneasy, clearly struggling internally. If it came to a head-on confrontation, especially in the open, she didn't believe she could take down Aiden. Even though she considered him a "false myth," the term still contained "myth."

Aiden twirled the gun on his finger and asked, "Ever heard of a curved bullet?"

"What are you talking about?" Natasha kept her guard up, tensing her body as she slowly backed away, her eyes fixed on Aiden.

Aiden pursed his lips and, with a swift motion, swung his arm from right to left, flinging the bullet out with a flick of his wrist.

Bang!

The bullet, propelled by inertia and Aiden's telekinetic control, shattered the second-floor windows before soaring outside. It traced a stunning arc outside the building, curved through a first-floor window, and struck two Black Widows, who fell to the ground.

Suddenly, the relentless gunfire ceased, leaving Natasha speechless. Though she didn't know what had transpired, she had seen the bullet's perfect trajectory.

"Are you not leaving?" Aiden turned, his icy gaze sweeping over Natasha.

Without another word, she vanished into the stairwell.

"You saw it, didn't you? You saw it!" A soldier outside the palace whispered excitedly, trying to contain his emotions, "I told you, and you didn't believe me. It's real, it's true!"

And his comrades, already stunned, could only stand petrified.