Just as House said that, Black Widow had already followed.
The house trembled all over. Before, he had cried in front of Lock, but when Black Widow appeared, he didn't even dare to cry anymore.
"What's going on? Lock, you beat him to tears?" Black Widow asked.
"No, it looks like he was scared to tears by you."
"How could it be? I am so gentle."
As she said that, she turned her back to Lock and winked at House, hinting that he should say something nice to her so she wouldn't lose face in front of her man.
But how could a rough guy like House understand such a delicate signal?
Instead, he shouted: "You lie! You caught many criminals, but you didn't interrogate or kill them. You tortured them until they were worse than death, unable to surrender even if they wanted to!"
A cold light flashed in Black Widow's eyes. House shrank even more and muttered weakly: "What do you want to do?"
"Anything else?" Black Widow asked through gritted teeth.
"They also… also said you are immortal, and… that you like to cut off men's… when they are happiest…"
Black Widow snapped angrily: "Where did you hear such rumors?!"
Immortality naturally referred to the recovery potion. But that last part—what kind of disgusting nonsense was that? She had never done anything like that.
Whoever had turned dirty men's jokes into "intelligence" deserved death.
"Just… just what my brothers on the street said."
"Which brother? What's his name? Where is he?"
A cold glint passed through Black Widow's eyes. She had already sentenced this "street brother" to death.
House stammered: "Can't say. People who run in the underground world need loyalty."
"Then there's no need to say anything at all."
Black Widow pulled out a roll of black tape and moved to seal House's mouth.
House panicked. If that tape covered his mouth, he would end up like others—unable to surrender even if he wanted.
He screamed: "I'll talk, I'll talk! There's a bar called Night Dance on the west side of the city. The owner, Chad, sells information. Also, an underground casino on 29th Street, you can buy info there too…"
Lock smiled: "Natasha, I didn't expect your name to be so intimidating. I was worried all the time that you weren't safe outside."
There's an old saying: there are only wrong names, not wrong nicknames.
Black Widow was already deadly, but her beauty and past methods gave people illusions—that men who fell into her hands simply weren't strong enough.
The stronger the criminal, the stronger his machismo. If others couldn't conquer this poisonous beauty, then maybe he could.
In their fantasies, they would break her and get both a woman and information.
Obviously, people who thought that way never ended well.
Later, when she worked alongside Lock, Black Widow stopped using seduction. She turned ruthless.
During the two years Lock spent in Asgard, Black Widow sharpened her skills. She became merciless.
Anyway, the criminals who warranted Black Widow weren't small fry. They were filled with crimes. Even if she killed them, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't care.
Slowly, Black Widow realized her new method was faster. Pretending to be weak, playing the beauty game—it was too slow.
Instead, she struck hard and directly.
Many criminals had been tortured. At first, they refused to answer questions. They never got a second chance.
Of course, some tried to resist, laying ambushes and traps. Other agents would have been crippled for months.
But not her. Black Widow just drank the recovery potion and bounced back instantly.
The more criminals resisted, the worse their fate.
So in the underground, rumors spread. Her name became terrifying.
Underground intel is always mixed, not as rigorous as government reports.
It's like gossip—exaggerated, fabricated, passed as "exclusive."
Thus, the name of Black Widow became darker and darker.
But Lock always stood on her side, in this life and the last. To him, nothing about her was frightening.
Only enemies felt the horror of this beautiful killer.
Hearing Lock's words, Black Widow panicked. She didn't want him to know her real methods. So she instantly switched into soft mode, whispering:
"Lock, it's not what you think. Some criminals won't respond to kindness. Reason doesn't work. So I… just hit harder…"
House stared blankly. This was the legendary Black Widow?
Right now, she held milk tea in her hand, wearing sexy casual clothes, her tone soft and girlish, afraid her man would misunderstand her.
Just moments ago, she was terrifying. Now, she was a little woman.
The face-changing was terrifying. If not for her face, House might have believed she was someone else.
And he felt contempt—she never gave criminals a soft choice.
Lock smiled: "I would like to see what your 'hard methods' look like."
The house's heart skipped. Sure enough, they were in the same group. Maybe Lock was the male version of Black Widow.
He hurried: "I'll talk! I'll say everything! Please don't seal my mouth…"
"Why did you put this mark on your equipment?"
At that, House's face lit up with pride: "This is the symbol of a great kingdom of gods. You earthlings wouldn't understand."
"Really?" Lock's voice turned cold. Divine power stirred across his body. A dark golden seal glowed on his chest. "So, do you recognize this mark?"
"Prince's Seal? This… this… impossible! There's no record of any prince in Asgard!"
"Are you saying my royal seal is fake?"
House hesitated. He had never heard of any Asgardian prince. But the power before him could crush him with one slap. No need to fake a royal seal.
Besides, forging one was impossible. Outsiders had never even seen such things.
Shaking, House dropped to one knee and bowed in Asgardian etiquette.
"How long have you lived on Earth?" Lock asked.
The house wanted to lie. But under Lock's gaze, he broke instantly.
"More than 1,200 years."
"How did you get here?"
"At that time, Asgard needed metals from Earth for a batch of equipment. They sent a team to mine in Northern Europe. I was a blacksmith, so I came."
"Hmph. Seems you've lived quite comfortably these thousand years."
House said, "I don't dare, Prince. I'm only a small blacksmith. My divine power talent is poor. I can only hammer steel for life. If I disappeared, no one would notice. Otherwise, Heimdall would have found me long ago…"
"So you just do whatever you want on Earth, dominate mortals, right? Do you know how many people your divine armor has harmed?"
"Prince… I only made those gears randomly. I didn't inject much divine power. I just wanted to make some money… After the Wormhole War, suddenly, many people wanted to buy. So I…"
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A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
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