While Venom Robin headed off to train with a bitter expression, and Batman was occupied fabricating the new type of bombs—
Vroom—
The roar of an engine echoed through the streets of Manhattan as Black Widow piloted a convertible, weaving through the traffic.
She was not wearing her skin-tight battle suit today, having changed into a beige, knee-length women's trench coat.
The wind whipped up by the convertible blew back her long, red wavy hair, turning the heads of countless onlookers along the way.
Black Widow was heading to Stark Industries to find Iron Man.
S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed more than one Helicarrier, and their locations were far from fixed.
Following the Battle of Manhattan, both she and Hawkeye had completely lost all communication with S.H.I.E.L.D. At this moment, she was partly trying her luck to see if Tony Stark had the coordinates to the Helicarrier.
On the other hand, she wanted to borrow a helicopter as a means of transport.
Hawkeye was currently sparring with Captain America back at the temporary Avengers Mansion estate, while the other Avengers had long since dispersed—some busy with their own affairs, others taking it easy.
Iron Man Tony Stark's charity and public welfare, Captain America stepping up to deliver speeches, and Batman operating covertly in the shadows meant that the superheroes hadn't even made appearances at public events.
Their status mirrored that of celebrities, yet unlike celebrities, they weren't bound by rigid sets of rules.
The only ironclad rule was that, under the premise of ensuring their own safety, they could not harm civilians and had to minimize civilian property damage as much as possible.
When folks like Jack Russell, the Werewolf by Night, or Barbara Morse, Mockingbird, threw on civilian clothes and baseball caps, no one walking down the street would recognize them at all.
As for Sam Wilson, the Falcon, he had returned to the military. He was currently still an active-duty soldier; joining Captain America during the Battle of Manhattan was merely a matter of chancing upon his idol and following him into the fray.
Strictly speaking, running off to participate in a chaotic battle while carrying military equipment—namely those Falcon wings—on his own authority constituted treason and desertion.
Though he had joined the Avengers now, he still had to face charges and appear before a court-martial upon his return.
It was just that with S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury missing, the US government currently held an ambiguous stance toward superheroes, so Sam's return was merely a formality.
Jack Monroe remained at the Avengers Mansion to this day; he was homeless, and combined with his subtle psychological issues, Captain America had kept him by his side.
"Barbara Morse lost touch with S.H.I.E.L.D. after leaving the Cube prison as well. Sigh."
Weaving through the traffic, Black Widow's convertible looked exceedingly stylish, yet the woman sitting in the driver's seat was not feeling particularly breezy:
"Otherwise I wouldn't need to make a dedicated trip to find Tony. Heaven knows what that guy is busy with that he isn't answering his phone."
She had tried calling once while at the Avengers Mansion, but regrettably, Tony Stark hadn't picked up at all, leaving Black Widow with no choice but to make the trip in person.
The convertible sped along, coming up onto an overpass.
Traffic here was quite heavy, and the speed of the cars ahead had even slowed down, creating a bit of a bottleneck.
Yet this was nothing to Black Widow; she skillfully handled the steering wheel, slipping through the gaps between cars.
A few seconds later, the road ahead opened up, but Black Widow's immediate reaction was not to step on the gas, but to slam on the brake pedal.
The cause of the traffic jam was a fellow standing right in the middle of the road ahead—sporting shoulder-length hair, wearing a tactical mask and goggles, and clad in body armor.
The individual's most striking feature was a mechanical arm reflecting a metallic luster in the sunlight, complete with a red five-pointed star emblem stamped on the shoulder.
At this moment, that mechanical arm was cradling a submachine gun, its trigger pulled the instant Black Widow's convertible burst out from the traffic flow.
The moment the sound of gunfire rang out, the tires beneath Black Widow's convertible let out a sharp screech against the pavement.
Under the sudden braking, the convertible's body immediately spun sideways, nearly losing control completely.
"Damn it! We've only had a few peaceful days! Where the hell did this freak pop up from?!"
Black Widow cursed through gritted teeth as the convertible spun sideways along the road.
Pitter-patter, bang!
In the blink of an eye, the originally flashy convertible was turned into scrap—partly from the chassis scraping against the overpass curb, and partly from the bullets sprayed by the man with the mechanical arm striking the car.
Black Widow ducked low; she did not panic under the sudden emergency, instead calmly observing her surroundings.
She currently had two choices: one was to readjust the direction of the front bumper and ram the guy into the air, and the other was to break into the oncoming lane and make a run for it.
"I suppose my life is currently being threatened, isn't it?"
Thinking back to that guideline Iron Man had issued to appease ordinary civilians, Black Widow couldn't help a moment of self-mockery in her heart.
Steeling her resolve, she prepared to stomp on the accelerator to send the mechanical-armed fellow flying.
However, in the very next second, Black Widow urgently retracted the idea, because she discovered the guy was not alone.
Seeing that the submachine gun bullets hadn't achieved a practical effect, the mechanical-armed man took a rocket launcher from the hands of a subordinate behind him.
"Fuck you!" Black Widow cursed again, yanking the steering wheel hard to charge into the oncoming lane.
"Captain! Clint!" Steering the wheel with one hand, Black Widow swiftly pulled out a cell phone with her other hand, speed-dialing without even looking, "I'm under attack!"
"Attacked?" The voices of Captain America and Hawkeye came through the phone almost simultaneously, "Location?"
"I don't fucking know, because I've already crossed into the oncoming lane driving against traffic and can't see the road signs!" Black Widow cursed.
"Hang in there!" a voice came through the phone, though it was somewhat difficult to tell who was speaking.
Click!
Black Widow hung up the phone, dodging vehicles speeding toward her in the reverse lane.
Yet after driving for only two minutes or so, Black Widow couldn't help but knit her brows.
She saw through the convertible's rearview mirror that the mechanical-armed man had hijacked a motorcycle from somewhere and was likewise pursuing her against the flow of traffic.
Under complex traffic conditions, a motorcycle was clearly far more agile than her convertible.
Seeing the other party closing in rapidly, Black Widow cast a swift glance around the interior of the convertible.
She had set off for Stark Industries to discuss business, not to engage in a fight, to the point where she hadn't even brought weapons on her person; the only usable item in the car was a handbag.
In the brief moment it took to glance around the car, the mechanical-armed man had already caught up, standing on the motorcycle as if preparing to pounce.
Screech!
Another sharp brake sound echoed. The instant the mechanical-armed man leaped forward, Black Widow slammed on the brakes, causing the guy who pounced toward the convertible to fly forward due to momentum and crash onto the hood.
Seizing the opportunity, Black Widow snatched her handbag, quickly rummaging through it, only to pull out a single ballpoint pen.
...This was something Nick Fury had instructed her to keep in her bag when she was undercover at Stark Industries.
There was no time to think too much at this moment. Black Widow rapidly gripped the pen in a reverse hold while swiftly unbuckling her seatbelt.
Almost simultaneously, the mechanical-armed man who had crashed in front of the convertible stood up, staggering over to the side of the car, and with a single tear of his hand, ripped the convertible's door completely off.
Shua!
The exact moment he ripped off the door, the ballpoint pen held in reverse in Black Widow's hand jabbed straight toward him.
--
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