Any normal man would've had blood rushing to his head, shouting "Leave that woman alone and take me instead!" before heroically charging to the rescue.
But Cloud just stood there, arms crossed, watching with great interest.
Like he was observing a rather amateurish stage play.
Seeing herself about to have an intimate encounter with the pavement, Natasha Romanoff's mind flickered with confusion.
This isn't how the script goes.
Why isn't he rushing over to catch me?
Just as she was about to make contact with the ground, a gentle breeze appeared from nowhere, softly supporting her body and steadying her on her feet.
"Miss, are you alright?" Cloud's voice drifted over casually.
Natasha's heart tightened, but her face maintained the perfect victim expression.
She looked up at Cloud with those big, watery eyes, voice tinged with a sob: "My... my wallet... all my ID is in there..."
"Oh, that?" Cloud pointed somewhere in the distance.
Natasha followed his gesture.
The "mugger" who'd snatched her purse was now planted headfirst in a garbage can in a perfect handstand position, legs still flailing helplessly in the air.
Her designer handbag hung intact on a nearby railing, swaying gently in the breeze.
Natasha: "..."
She could swear that from start to finish, she hadn't seen Cloud make a single move!
"Looks like New York's public safety is pretty good after all," Cloud said with a straight face, spouting nonsense. "The mugger got halfway through the job, had a crisis of conscience, and threw himself into the garbage to repent."
The corner of Natasha's mouth twitched imperceptibly.
She forced out a grateful smile, walked over, and retrieved her bag by tiptoeing slightly—a calculated show of effort.
"Th-thank you," she said while checking the contents (naturally, nothing was missing), simultaneously closing the distance to Cloud without revealing her intentions.
"You're welcome." But Cloud's gaze swept over her long legs sheathed in black stockings, then commented in a remarkably professional tone: "Miss, your ankle-twist technique was actually a bit off."
Natasha's body instantly stiffened.
"Given your leg muscle definition and ankle flexibility," Cloud continued, stroking his chin analytically, "you should be capable of executing a much more refined fall—optimal tilt angle between 45 and 47 degrees. That 38-degree angle just now looked a bit forced."
"We have a girl back home named Mai Shiranui who also likes fighting in heels. Her fake ankle-twists are way more professional. Next time, I could introduce you two for some technique exchange."
Cold sweat trickled down Natasha's smooth forehead.
She felt like all her prized disguise techniques and tradecraft were completely transparent before this man!
Those seemingly casual eyes seemed to see through everything!
"Also..." Cloud's gaze shifted to her form-fitting black dress, brow furrowing slightly. "Do all the agents here like wearing this for field work? It looks great, but the fabric's stretch tolerance is too low—seriously limits any large-scale combat movements. Plus, black is good for nighttime concealment, but on a daytime street, it's a bit too conspicuous."
"Aren't you hot?" He finished with a question that struck at the very soul.
Natasha felt like she couldn't breathe.
Her legendary "Black Widow" aura had been completely dismantled in front of this man.
She felt like a rookie agent fresh out of training, undergoing the ultimate assessment from a demonic instructor.
"I... I just like dressing this way..." She forced out a smile uglier than crying, trying to salvage the situation.
"Oh, personal preference. Never mind then." Cloud nodded in sudden understanding.
Natasha had just exhaled in relief when Cloud added another comment.
"But next time you're acting, remember to find a more professional partner. That mugger ran way too slow, and his S.H.I.E.L.D. temp worker badge was practically falling out of his pocket."
BOOM!
Natasha's mind went completely blank.
Totally busted!
Just as she was preparing to immediately initiate Plan B and forcibly subdue Cloud, he acted like nothing had happened, pointing at a burger joint on the corner.
"I'm a bit hungry. Would the lovely lady mind treating her rescuer to a burger?"
...
Inside the restaurant, the atmosphere could've been cut with a knife.
Natasha sat across from Cloud, saying nothing, silently sipping water while using a micro-communicator under the table to report this bewildering situation to Fury.
Meanwhile, Cloud attacked the food on the table like a starving ghost, demolishing everything in sight.
"Hmm... these fries aren't crispy enough."
"This cola has too much high-fructose corn syrup."
"This burger... is an absolute disaster! The beef patty is dry and tough, the lettuce isn't fresh! Do Americans really eat this every day?"
Cloud critiqued mercilessly between bites, his disgusted expression making Natasha wonder if she'd been living in dire straits all her life.
To break the awkward silence—and for one final probe—Natasha decided to execute the order Fury had just issued.
She "accidentally" knocked over the glass of water beside her.
The glass, filled to the brim, began its inevitable journey toward Cloud's spotless sneakers below the table.
Natasha's eyes locked onto Cloud, ready to capture any micro-reaction.
But Cloud just sat there without even glancing up.
In the instant the glass was about to topple, something bizarre occurred.
The entire glass, along with the water inside, seemed to hit a pause button—freezing in mid-air in complete defiance of all physics!
Water droplets crystallized into amber-like beads suspended in space.
Natasha's breath caught.
"Sigh, honestly." Cloud finally looked up at the hovering glass and sighed, like scolding a misbehaving child.
He extended one finger and lightly tapped the glass.
The next second, time resumed.
But the glass didn't fall. Instead, it floated back to its original position in an even more impossible manner.
Not a single drop had spilled.
"You... you..." Natasha stared at this magic trick-like scene, completely at a loss for words.
"Like I said, your burger here isn't good."
Cloud ignored her shock. He picked up the burger he'd only taken one bite of and shook his head.
...
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