Watching Coulson hang up the phone, Natasha asked him:
"How was it?"
"If we can capture him, we capture him. If we can't, we kill him. At the same time, keep an eye on that man's subordinates. The Director suspects their identities."
Natasha outranked him in S.H.I.E.L.D., and since Nick Fury had personally told them to pay attention to this matter, Coulson had no intention of hiding anything.
"He's suspicious of their identities?"
Natasha didn't doubt that man's way of handling things at all. It was normal. That man was far too dangerous.
Natasha had her own thoughts about what Coulson said next.
"That said, I'm a little suspicious myself."
"Actually… so am I."
Coulson and Natasha exchanged glances, each seeing doubt reflected in the other's eyes. It was understandable—everything that had happened was far too suspicious.
For secrecy, only three people in the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. knew the full situation. Two of them didn't use S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence network. Instead, relying on information provided by Lu Yi, they investigated bit by bit using ordinary civilian networks.
It was a complicated, time-consuming process, but extremely secure—and very few people knew about it.
To help them cover their tracks, Nick Fury even issued them a fake field mission report, so that their disappearance wouldn't attract suspicion.
However—there was still a problem.
For many years, no one had shown up where the Darkhold was hidden. But just as they appeared and acquired the Darkhold, someone else appeared.
And it wasn't an ordinary someone—it was a mysterious, highly trained special-operations unit with extensive real-world combat experience and top-tier gear.
This was a huge problem.
Where was the Darkhold located? It had only just been discovered. Lu Yi couldn't have leaked the information.
So what was going on?
If they had been careless, a leak might have happened—but they had been extremely careful.
No leaks. No clues. Could this all be just a coincidence?
No. Of course not.
If it had been a coincidence, the other side's actions would not have been so direct. They approached without hesitation and attacked immediately—their goal was clearly the Darkhold.
If it were just coincidence, even professionals seeing two strangers suddenly appear would at least show surprise, hesitate for a moment, then open fire.
Even if their goal was the book and they intended to eliminate witnesses, the plan would still have been different. They wouldn't have needed that many specialists.
These people didn't seem to be searching for an item. They came to kill. They came specifically to kill.
It was a puzzle—one with only one possible source for clues: the people right in front of them.
"You're right. Let's go."
After saying that, the two jogged forward, climbed onto the wall, pushed off with their feet, vaulted over it, rolled across the grass behind the wall, and disappeared from sight.
Just as they vanished, a scream came from the manor they'd been watching.
"Ah!"
A terrified man floated in midair, wrapped in a cloud of black mist. His body shriveled rapidly, becoming a withered husk with pale, tight skin clinging to his bones.
His face froze in fear. He was dead—so dead that he could no longer die.
Whoosh.
The black mist scattered from his corpse, and the body fell to the floor under its own weight.
The sound made the man beside him shudder violently. He lowered his head, not daring to look at the corpse, nor at the black mist.
The corpse was terrifying—but the black mist was far worse.
He feared the black mist and didn't dare look at it, but the mist insisted he did look. It reformed into a human shape before him.
Swoosh!
The mist dissolved in an instant, revealing a human figure.
"Not enough. I want more," the man said coldly.
"But… that's already the thirteenth person we captured. If we take any more, people will notice!" the subordinate said instinctively.
But that wasn't enough for the man emerging from the mist. Dissatisfied, he replied, "It doesn't matter. Let them notice. Once I recover, I'm not afraid of more people. Go. Bring me more!"
"But it's useless! We already have thirteen! We can't expose ourselves now!"
"So you're refusing me?" the man asked, his expression turning vicious.
"This…"
That moment of hesitation was a mistake. The man instantly assumed he had no intention of obeying. He transformed back into black mist and wrapped around him without hesitation.
Aaah!
Another scream—and he followed the previous victim, becoming a dried corpse.
"Not enough. Not enough!"
Even after absorbing another person, he still wasn't satisfied.
His voice seeped out through the door, making the faces of the people outside look even darker.
"He's getting more dangerous. He even drained one of our own. We can't let him continue like this," one man said.
The others agreed, their expressions showing the same concern.
"It sounds nice to say we can't let it continue, but you clearly aren't thinking," their leader said grimly. "Is this something we can decide?"
They belonged to a strictly controlled organization—disobedience was not an option. If their superiors ordered them to die, they had to die. Whether they wanted to or not didn't matter.
"Then what should we do?"
"Help him capture the target."
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