"You're an excellent spy, Agent Romanoff, whether you admit it or not," Maria Hill said with a subtle sigh—not from relief at acquiring intelligence, but from something else entirely. Natasha Romanoff picked up on her undertone immediately. Without responding to what might've been either praise or sarcasm, she expressionlessly yanked out her earpiece and tossed it across the shooting range. The little device bounced across the alloy floor like a skipping stone, sliding from one end to the other.
Despite Natasha's clear irritation with Hill's attitude, she couldn't deny the effectiveness of her methods.
Just an hour earlier, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers had been at each other's throats again—this time, over mistakes Stark made in his youth. Not weapons sales, but political and financial missteps. After Stark admitted to certain truths, Rogers bluntly called him a coward. Anyone could see that the rift between them was now wide enough to fit a Hulk. While they argued, Dr. Banner wisely holed up in a lab at the far end of the base and refused to open the door to anyone. Hill had directed Falcon to trap both men in the argument room by physically sabotaging the electronic door lock.
There was no toilet in that room, but plenty of bottled water. Anticipating conflict, Hill had steered them in there deliberately. She believed this was the fastest way to force resolution. And she wasn't wrong—agents in the base witnessed an Iron Man suit crash through a pane of bulletproof glass, Stark flying out in full armor with Captain America clinging to his leg. They shot away like their pants were on fire. If it hadn't been for the sound of shattering glass, most wouldn't have even seen the blur of movement. From the outside, it looked like they were getting along great. Only Hill, Falcon, and a few others knew the truth.
"Sure, the super-soldier serum is powerful," Hill said, standing in front of Falcon and trying hard not to laugh, "but it doesn't make your bladder bigger, does it?" She shoved a tablet into his hands and put her hands on her hips, exhaling a long breath. She looked visibly more relaxed. "Now get to work. Those two overgrown toddlers have wasted enough time."
"You're really gonna make me deal with him again?" Sam looked down at the tablet and then widened his eyes in disbelief.
"This time's different. You're just informing him that we're providing support," Hill said dryly. "If we'd been present last time, the coastal cities could've evacuated in time and avoided casualties. Don't try to understand what the mystic is thinking—just ask what he needs, and we'll prepare it. As long as he doesn't cause collateral damage. I don't believe for a second that he's just 'going for a walk.'"
For Wanda, however, this really was a walk—just one wildly different from what ordinary people would call a stroll.
Ordinary people don't carry shovels into the woods for leisure, especially when the goal is to find a corpse. Through prophecy, divination, and dreams, Solomon had never directly sought the witch's body. Now, returning to Collins for the first time in years, he didn't feel particularly nostalgic.
"This is where I buried the werewolf corpses," he said, pointing his shovel toward a clearing in the forest. In the glow of a magical orb, the underbrush glistened a sickly green. Wanda could smell black magic—it was a sensation difficult to describe, like viscous grease clinging to every inch of her skin, nauseating and oppressive. Solomon pointed to two other spots. "That was the vampire. That one's the ghoul who transformed after blood frenzy. The source was the family doctor."
Wanda knelt, brushing aside the grass, pressing her fingers into the soft earth. In an instant, the origin of the Collins werewolves and the doctor's memories rushed into her head, crashing against her mind like a tidal wave. Images splintered and flickered—pain stabbing from the back of her head into her eyes. She saw the beautiful witch's hatred for Bathabas, saw werewolves and ghouls hunting hippies in the woods, saw their fear when someone arrived—followed by death.
That lingering malice had soaked into the land. The curse still whispered through the soil. Her consciousness drifted deeper, through thick black muck, drawn toward something waiting in the abyss. Wanda didn't know what she saw—but by the time she remembered where she was, she was already in Solomon's arms.
"You passed out."
"I saw…" she frowned, trying to recall, but Solomon gently lowered her to the ground.
"There's no need to push yourself, Wanda," he said. "To ordinary people, this is just a forest clearing. Their brains, shut to the sixth sense, can't perceive the whispers and traces. For spellcasters, reading the residual memories here is dangerous. You haven't completed your training yet. Contact with dark secrets can lead to corruption. Opening your mind carelessly is risky. Don't do it again."
"I understand," Wanda said, still shaken. "So how do we find the witch's body?"
"We stroll," the arcane sorcerer replied. "I already searched the vampire's manor after that mission years ago. The witch's remains weren't there. So I'm focusing on this forest—it was a hunting ground for werewolves, vampires, and ghouls. People have gone missing here for years. Even after the vampires lost control of the police, many victims were never found. Another possibility is the fishery—Collins is a coastal town. If the witch's body was turned to porcelain, someone might've dumped it in the bay. Come, let's walk beneath the moonlight through the forest, and then row across the dark sea."
"Well then, my hopelessly romantic mentor," the young witch laughed. The moon was bright. Even after Solomon extinguished the magic orb, she could see the pale light filtering through the trees and illuminating the ground. "Are you going to call in backup? I wasn't eavesdropping—you were just talking too close. But I really think the two of us won't be enough for this task, especially dressed like this."
"No." Solomon took her hand and stepped over the damp mulch to the edge of the clearing. Neither Natasha Romanoff's phone call nor Falcon's wry message disrupted his plans for the walk. He knew his phone was being tracked—but he didn't care. "Clothing is a minor thing, Wanda. Don't concern yourself with material wealth. You should understand by now: to us, money means little. If you ever want more worldly riches, I'll give them to you—so long as it doesn't disrupt operations."
His words made Wanda's cheeks flush red—but he was oblivious to the effect. He was far more concerned with her mental state after touching the land's memories.
"If we find any clues, then I'll call in the Avengers. Since Agent Hill is so eager, I won't mind assigning them the annoying, low-risk parts of the job," Solomon said firmly. "After all, teleportation and summoning an airborne carrier cost both time and money. Stephanie's about ready to tear me apart for draining the macro-cannon ammo supply again!"
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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