Natasha sat on a tree outside the manor, observing everything happening in the living room through her binoculars.
With her enhanced eyesight, she could easily see everything inside. She watched as that man drained the lives of two people.
"Coulson, what's your situation?" Natasha asked through the encrypted radio channel.
"I can clearly see everyone gathered in one room. If we toss a grenade in right now, we could probably kill half of them," Coulson replied.
"Why are they gathered like that?" Natasha asked, puzzled.
Even if this group wasn't as professional as the previous one, the difference shouldn't be this big.
Everything had gone too smoothly for these people, completely inconsistent with trained operatives. Natasha naturally found it suspicious.
"I don't know, but I think it has something to do with him," Coulson said. "He doesn't treat them like people—but like livestock waiting to be slaughtered."
Natasha felt as if she'd found someone who understood her. She felt the same way.
After all, if that was the case, everything made sense.
Since they were treated like animals awaiting slaughter, they were locked up to prevent escape. No need for patrols. All they had to do was stay well-fed and healthy. That was why he had claimed the living room and herded everyone else into a single room. The fact that he casually drained someone dry earlier only proved it.
"If that's the case, this becomes much easier. Coulson, get the grenades ready. You said one grenade could take out most of them, right? Perfect. Let's test it."
"Understood."
"Once the moment comes and I give the signal, throw it in. It will definitely attract his attention. I'll find a way to kill him."
"Yes—but be careful. Once I confirm the others are dead, I'll assist you. If you can't kill him, hold out until I arrive."
"Don't worry. I know what to do."
"Then let's begin."
After their exchange, Natasha started moving toward the living room window, while Coulson approached the window of the crowded room.
Because of that man's presence, they couldn't sneak in or storm the living room directly—they had to act through the windows.
Both moved quietly toward their positions. Through the glass, they could almost hear the conversation inside.
Success or failure would be decided here.
"Do it."
Natasha's whisper was barely audible.
But with his earpiece, Coulson caught it.
Without hesitation, he smashed the window with his elbow, tossed in the prepared grenade, and immediately dove to the ground.
Boom! Boom!
Two explosions erupted, sending a fireball outward and shattering the window. Glass shards clattered onto Coulson's back, making his head ring.
He got up quickly to check the situation inside.
Meanwhile, the man in the living room recovered from the blast-induced dizziness and turned into black mist, rushing toward the room where the explosion happened.
But before he reached it, Natasha burst through another window, glass flying, and drove her dagger straight into the black mist.
The blade hit.
Splurt!
Strangely, the mist should have been intangible—but the dagger struck it like solid flesh, and blood sprayed out.
"You again!"
One section of the mist twisted sharply, releasing a harsh sound.
The voice didn't faze Natasha. She placed her other hand on the dagger's hilt and pressed down hard.
Thud!
The dagger pinned the black mist to the wooden floor, and the dark blood flowed faster.
"Aaah!"
A scream echoed.
Had Natasha subdued him that easily?
Of course not. It was only possible because of the dagger—an artifact naturally capable of restraining evil beings. And this man absolutely qualified as one, which was why he was trapped.
Natasha had seen the weapon injure Coulson once before, when her dagger and Coulson's sword accidentally struck him.
He was injured again.
But now, Natasha felt uneasy.
She had managed to pin him down—but what now? Should she call for backup? Or kill him?
Calling for backup was easy, but he might struggle free before support arrived, which would be disastrous. That was what she wrestled with.
Her dilemma ended sooner than expected.
The pinned black mist suddenly grabbed a chair and slammed it onto the dagger. The blade bent instantly.
Natasha had no doubt—after a few more strikes, the dagger would break, and he would escape.
He had to die.
That was her conclusion. But killing him wasn't simple. The dagger was lodged in the floor, and she had no other weapons.
If she got too close, she would end up like the earlier victims—drained dry. She had no choice but to stay outside the mist's reach.
She could only hope Coulson arrived soon. Only then could she seize the chance to finish him.
If he broke free, he would move freely—appearing and disappearing at will—and then everything would be over.
Fortunately, Coulson didn't keep her waiting.
Just as the dagger was about to snap under the relentless blows, he arrived. Without hesitation, he swung his sword at the black mist.
The dark mist recognized the weapon immediately—it was made from the same material as Natasha's dagger, with the same abilities. So instead of blocking, it flung the chair straight at Coulson.
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