Inside the car:
"Su, what do you think was the motive of the group that attacked Tony Stark?"
Natasha Romanoff kept her eyes on the road but glanced occasionally at Su Che, who had rolled down the window and was resting his hand outside, as if feeling the flow of the wind.
"Motive? Who knows? I'm not a kidnapper—I can't guess their intentions."
Su Che shrugged lightly.
"But generally speaking, crimes are driven by hatred, money, or personal relationships."
"Often, long-suppressed dissatisfaction builds up until it reaches a breaking point."
"The kind of resentment that accumulates over time… that's the most terrifying."
Natasha chuckled. "That doesn't sound like something a nineteen-year-old would say."
"I get the feeling you've been through a lot. Hey, it's a long drive—why not share some stories?"
As she spoke, she pulled out two pieces of chewing gum.
She popped one into her own mouth and offered the other to Su Che.
"Thanks, but I doubt my past would interest you."
He accepted the gum and unwrapped it.
"You never know. Maybe I'll find it intriguing?"
She tilted her head and gave him a charming smile. "Are you sure you don't want to share?"
"Eyes on the road, please."
Su Che gestured for her to focus.
"Relax, my driving skills are flawless. I could close my eyes and nothing would happen."
"Yeah, no—I'd rather not pay for your overconfidence."
They continued chatting as the car moved through the streets.
As they passed an alley, a panicked scream echoed from within, followed by desperate cries for help.
Through the open window, both Su Che and Natasha saw what was happening:
a man threatening a woman with a knife—clearly a robbery.
Hearing the woman's pleas, Su Che's fingers resting outside the window twitched almost imperceptibly.
A droplet of water materialized in the air and shot toward the assailant's neck.
By the time the car had passed the alley, the robber was already collapsing to the ground, unconscious.
Thump.
The woman he'd been threatening showed no surprise—as if she'd expected it.
Instead of fleeing, she calmly pulled out a small timer, started it, then ran out of the alley "in panic."
Back in the car:
"Calling the police?" Natasha asked casually as Su Che took out his phone.
"Of course. In situations like this, it's best to let the police handle it. Playing the hero can backfire—you never know if the guy's armed."
He reported the incident succinctly to the dispatcher.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the "victim" rushing out of the alley—right on cue.
As Su Che focused on the call, Natasha continued driving as if nothing had happened.
A nearly invisible speck of light in the rearview mirror on Su Che's side faded away.
In the alley:
The "panicked" woman regained her composure as soon as the car was out of sight.
She walked back into the alley and checked on the unconscious man—alive, but out cold.
She made no move to help him, simply watching the timer in her hand.
About three minutes later, police sirens approached.
Two armed officers rushed into the alley, but the woman flashed an ID and waved them off.
They left without question.
The moment the man on the ground groaned and began to stir, she stopped the timer.
"Six minutes and forty-three seconds."
She looked down at him. "Police response time was about three minutes twenty. You were out for six forty-three."
"The gap allows the 'victim' to escape and covers delayed police arrival scenarios."
"How did I go down?" The man sat up, rubbing his neck.
"I felt something hit me, but there was no sound—no wind, no warning."
"No idea. Director Romanoff probably caught it on camera. We'll find out later."
Tsk. The man massaged his sore neck. "Should've gone on that mission with Agent Coulson instead."
"Please. Low-level S.H.I.E.L.D. agents like us don't get to choose assignments."
She shook her head. "Remember—today never happened. Our performance reviews at Christmas determine if we make Level 5."
The man grunted as he stood. "Can't wait to make Level 5. I'm tired of being an extra."
"Ten years ago, graduating from the Academy meant automatic Level 5. Now we start from scratch."
"At least it's a gentler onboarding. Otherwise—"
"Enough with the complaining. If you want a better assignment, go set a record. All talk."
She turned and walked out of the alley.
He hurried after her. "Hey—that's discrimination! You know that? Wait up!"