Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1480 The Devil's Deal (First Update)

After finishing breakfast, Natasha Romanoff set an alarm for half an hour, but her tired brain was still driven by anxiety. The rescue operation and the resettlement plan were both enormous challenges, just as Victoria Hand had feared. Even if she remained with S.H.I.E.L.D., she wouldn't have access to the resources to resettle those girls. There weren't many organizations in the world capable of providing shelter for her sisters; her choices were few. But even if there seemed to be an option, she actually had no choice. If she chose a NATO intelligence organization, the Emperor's intelligence agency and the Guardians of the Order would certainly not show any mercy to her sisters.

Thinking of this, she felt a pang of envy for the girls in the Immortal City.

Someone had promised them a future, an opportunity they'd never had before—the freedom to choose to become a soldier, a merchant, an official, a farmer, or even a housewife after escaping their tragic fate—she subconsciously touched her lower abdomen. The surgery was precise, and organ cultivation was in its final stages; she would soon realize her dream, provided she didn't incur the Emperor's displeasure for this "secret" unauthorized action—a highly unlikely possibility. She knew the Sky Sword Space Station was tracking her every move, and if the Emperor harbored resentment towards her, Victoria Hand would have no chance of contacting her. However, no matter the price, she intended to negotiate with Victoria Hand and the forces behind her to obtain all the resources she needed.

She knew she couldn't lead an independent department. No organization in the world could directly shelter such a group, not even the Sisterhood of Immortal Cities. Without funding, the girls could only obtain false identities and fend for themselves, constantly facing potential enemies. Even if some girls wanted to retire, they couldn't truly live a peaceful life. As Victoria Hand said, there was no concept of retirement once you entered this line of work. Few agents had the ability to maintain a normal family life because life didn't provide all the surrounding intelligence as it did when on a mission. Extensive background checks on each individual, coupled with an insatiable sense of security and paranoia, made the fragile, illusory peace extremely difficult to maintain.

This deep-seated insecurity will haunt an agent for life, tormenting their mind like PTSD. Life will be filled with suspicion, and no security measures will be able to quell the soul suffering from a crisis of trust, regardless of whether the agent believes in the concept of the soul. Natasha Romanoff knows that a significant part of her affection for the Avengers stems from the family-like atmosphere they create, providing her with a sense of security and allowing her to draw upon a wealth of trust like a vampire—an emotion that S.H.I.E.L.D. cannot offer.

But long before S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed, someone had already reached out to rescue her as she was drowning.

"A perceptive little boy. A cunning prophet." She barely recalled the promise she had heard before, then cursed it in a voice no one could hear. The exhaustion of the past few days finally overwhelmed her, and she gave up resisting, drifting off into a deep sleep.

Sleep is like sinking into the deep sea of ​​unconsciousness, an experience I haven't had in a long time.

He opened his eyes in the darkness. The bright winter moonlight filtered through the dry, warm air, spilling onto Bayonetta and Joan of Arc's fair, delicate shoulders. The black-haired witch's clear grey eyes were almost transparent in the dim light, her supernatural beauty distorting the light like an energy influencing reality. She quickly sat up, the thin blanket sliding down to her slender waist—her waist was astonishing enough that her arms could easily encircle it—and a satisfied blush clung to her face, like a vigorous and unrestrained female leopard.

"A dream?" she asked softly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping Joan of Arc. "How serious was it?"

"The waves of outer dimensions will always push fragments of the future ashore. They are just pieces of fate, nothing to worry about too much."

"Tomorrow you're taking us to a small island in South America for refuge. What could be more serious than that? There are nuclear weapons and nuclear defense facilities there; ordinary resort islands don't have these things." Bayonetta leaned down, her long black hair cascading down his chest like a waterfall, resembling raven wings. "I've heard Athena say that the dangers you're facing are far from simple."

She tried to suppress her concern and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Are you confident you'll survive?"

"I'm ready, darling." He toyed with a strand of his jet-black hair, playfully tugging at the witch's hair. "The plan has been going on for years; this is just a test of my preparedness. When have you ever seen me unprepared, hmm?"

"You stinking brat!" Bayonetta was both angry and annoyed, but also a little pleased. She could only manage to maintain her usual expression, saying with a hint of mockery and sarcasm, "Wasn't this weak woman excluded from your plan from the very beginning?"

"Are you angry? Well, it seems I've never discovered this adorable side of you, Ceresa."

"Shh, you idiot! Don't wake Joan of Arc, I don't want her to accuse me of cheating!"

"I can't guarantee that, darling. Judging from your previous behavior, Milia might have been woken up."

"Are you really that clueless?" Bayonetta squirmed, looking like she was about to explode. Her cheeks were flushed with anger. "How could you say something so inappropriate!"

"Perhaps it's talent?"

"Ugh...shut up!"

Until the piercing ringtone sounded, Natasha Romanov thought only a few seconds had passed.

She didn't turn on the lights or the television; only the light from passing vehicles cast eerie shadows on the ceiling. Exhaustion settled in her bones and muscles, making it difficult to lift her limbs. She even felt her eyelids were being held shut with a surgical suture, her eyes dry and stinging when she opened them. She let out a soft sigh, then pulled her hand from under the pillow and placed the pistol she had been clutching on the bedside table. Natasha Romanoff threw back the covers, dressed neatly, and went to the bathroom. She poured herself a glass of water and swallowed her pills—she had overdosed, but was still within a safe range; her body could metabolize them. With only twenty-odd minutes until her next contact with Victoria Hand, she had to get to the safe house as quickly as possible to retrieve the information and equipment she needed. She is about to carry out two surveillance operations, four wiretapping installation operations, and one kidnapping operation. Equipment such as laser oscillator listening devices, SLR cameras and lenses, and miniature listening devices all need to be resupplyed in a safe house, and she cannot carry these things with her at all times.

In reality, all she had was a dagger, a handgun, a fake driver's license, and a pickup truck that had been used many times before. To complete her mission, she also had to replace the beat-up car; otherwise, the engine noise would be too conspicuous and alert her target, causing them to flee. She needed to infiltrate the Grand Delta, Alaska gang families and uncover their recent arms deals. A recent security check at Eyerson Air Force Base revealed a familiar face on the report: someone had attempted to attack the Eyerson Air Force Base's food warehouse with a dangerous weapon.

Natasha Romanov was convinced that if she could find the records of the arms deal, she could find the person who bought the weapons.

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(End of this chapter)