Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

Shen Jue stopped in her tracks, a gentle, almost saintly smile appearing on her face.

"Of course, my child."

He turned slightly to the side and gestured for him to enter.

"I happen to be passing through there too, let me show you the way."

The girl seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, hugged her canvas bag tightly, and followed with small steps.

The two walked side by side on the broken sidewalk.

The sound of shattering glass came from afar, and several teenagers sped past on motorcycles.

The girl subconsciously shrank her shoulders and moved closer to Shen Jue.

Shen Jue, however, seemed to be used to all of this, her steps steady without the slightest hint of panic.

"You must have come from a very far place," Shen Jue said casually.

The girl gave a soft "hmm".

"From Russia."

Shen Jue nodded.

"That's a very cold country."

The girl looked down at her old shoes, her voice carrying a subtle, complex emotion.

"It's beautiful too."

This girl doesn't look very old.

But in reality, she is quite special.

She is Natasha Romanov.

The Black Widow who caused countless politicians and warlords to die in their sleep.

She was born in Stalingrad and was sent to the Red House as a child.

There, she was robbed of her name, her childhood, and all the possibilities of being an ordinary girl.

The red house forged her into a humanoid weapon.

Natasha has micro-explosives implanted in her bones, and cold training memories flow in her blood.

She is fluent in more than ten languages ​​and can identify a person's most vulnerable joint in a second.

Her fighting skills are enough to kill any unsuspecting enemy at close range.

Natasha had studied ballet and also learned how to open a bank vault with a hairpin.

She was once the sharpest ghost in the Soviet Union, the most secretive blade of the KGB.

But she later betrayed the Red Room and eventually joined S.H.I.E.L.D.

She was no longer a pure assassin, yet she could never truly wash the blood off her hands.

At that moment, she was wearing a faded old coat, and her gray-blue eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of mist.

She disguised herself as a lost foreign girl, unaware that the priest beside her had already seen through everything.

The two walked through block after block.

The lights grew thinner and thinner, and the crowd seemed to be swallowed up by the night.

They arrived at a quiet neighborhood.

Most of the surrounding shops had their metal shutters down, and only one or two streetlights were still dimly lit.

The wind whistled through the buildings.

Shen Jue suddenly stopped.

Natasha's heart tightened, but she didn't stop; she just looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Shen Jue turned around, her smile still gentle.

"Natasha, do you miss your former homeland?"

Shen Jue's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a knife that pierced through her disguise.

Natasha's eyes remained completely still.

She tilted her head slightly, her face showing just the right amount of confusion.

"Father, what are you saying? My name is not Natasha."

Her voice was still timid, with the soft, gentle tone characteristic of Russian girls.

Shen Jue looked at her, her smile unchanged.

"Your disguise is almost perfect."

"Her accent, gait, breathing rate, and even the rhythm of her heartbeat were just like those of an ordinary immigrant girl."

"But some things cannot be faked."

Natasha took a half step back, as if startled by the abruptness of a stranger.

"I do not understand......"

Shen Jue's gaze slowly swept across her face.

"Your bone density, the reaction speed of your muscle fibers, and the traces of modification in your body."

"In my perception, you are as dazzling as a flame in the night."

Natasha's fear finally froze for a moment.

Shen Jue leaned forward slightly, his voice as calm as if stating a fact.

"And this face is exactly the same as Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, in the S.H.I.E.L.D. files."

The wind passed between the two, stirring up the scraps of paper on the ground.

Natasha slowly straightened up.

In her eyes, the girl's fragility shattered like thin ice, revealing a sharp and cold light beneath.

She was still holding the canvas bag, but her center of gravity had silently shifted.

"Father Shen Jue, why are you asking me about the death of a ghost?"

Her voice was no longer accented; it was as clear and cold as the Siberian night wind.

Natasha looked at him, her grey-blue eyes appearing as if covered with a thin layer of ice in the dim light.

"My motherland has long been destroyed by my compatriots."

Her voice was soft, yet utterly cold.

"That ghost that once roamed the world decayed to the point of suicide."

Shen Jue remained silent for a moment.

His gaze fell on Natasha's old coat, as if examining a piece of history long buried by heavy snow.

Then he smiled.

"Natasha, join us."

Natasha's pupils contracted slightly.

Shen Jue opened his arms, his robes billowing gently in the night breeze.

Of course, these were special effects added by Shen Jue himself.

"I want to fill this world with love and peace."

"Not by lies, nor by fear."

"Instead, we will hold peace firmly in our hands with true love and strength."

Natasha did not move or respond.

Shen Jue suddenly tilted his head, his gaze passing over her as if piercing through the vast night.

"Including the bald black head behind your tiny earpiece."

Natasha's breathing stopped for a fraction of a second.

Shen Jue smiled even more gently, as if inviting an old friend to dinner.

"I invite you to join my side."

"I want you to stand together and watch this world be reshaped."

Shen Jue's tone was casual, yet it carried a chilling certainty.

Natasha finally spoke.

"Father Shen Jue, what exactly are you trying to do?"

Shen Jue nodded and said, "From the first moment I saw you, I knew you had a whole team analyzing my situation."

"And your headphone signal is as conspicuous as a lighthouse in the dead of night."

Natasha's fingers tightened slightly.

Shen Jue acted as if she hadn't seen it, her smile remaining pure and warm.

"So, Natasha Romanov."

"Would you like to join my side?"

Natasha did not hesitate.

She looked at Shen Jue, her grey-blue eyes as cold as the Siberian permafrost.

"I refuse."

Shen Jue was not annoyed.

His smile didn't even fade in the slightest.

"Then let's meet again in a while."

He sighed softly, as if lamenting a traveler who had missed the last train.

"Perhaps at that time, you will consider joining me."

"Speak," Shen Jue snapped his fingers.

The sound was as crisp as a glass bead falling onto an iron plate.

Gravity manipulation and magnetic rotation of the nine heavens are activated simultaneously.

Natasha's body stiffened abruptly.

She felt as if every bone and muscle in her body was being gripped by an invisible force.

She tried to struggle, but found she couldn't even blink.

The next second, she flew into the sky like a marionette.

The night wind exploded in her ears, and the sea of ​​city lights instantly shrank into a blurry patch of stardust.

Her body passed through the clouds.

The cold steam soaked her old coat.

The air was getting thinner and thinner, and breathing was almost forcibly taken away from us.

She was transported hundreds of kilometers away in a very short time.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft carrier is silently hovering above the sea of ​​clouds.

Natasha crashed onto the deck like a precision-guided cannonball.

She couldn't slow down and could only watch helplessly as the steel deck rapidly enlarged in her field of vision.

The next second, she crashed through three layers of armor.

Metal fragments flew like fireworks.

The alarm blared, instantly shattering the silence of the aircraft carrier.

Nick Fury stood in the command room, his one eye suddenly widening.

He stared in shock as Natasha descended from the sky and landed in a superhero pose.

She knelt in the cratered metal ruins, soaked to the bone, her old coat torn to shreds.

A trace of unprecedented horror lingered in her grey-blue eyes.