Bang!
The chair flung by the black mist was smashed apart by Coulson's longsword. The impact stalled Coulson's strike, preventing him from cutting through the mist.
"Coulson, don't stop—keep pushing forward! This is the best chance we'll ever get!" Natasha urged when she saw him being blocked.
Coulson wasn't stupid; he understood immediately. Without hesitation, he swung his sword and charged toward the black mist.
In the past, the black mist wouldn't have feared Coulson much. Though Coulson's sword was powerful, the creature could shift its form at will.
It was nearly impossible for Coulson or Natasha to land a real hit.
But now things were different. The creature was pinned to the ground and unable to escape.
This was their only opportunity.
Crack!
Coulson raised his sword, slashing through part of the mist and forcing it backward with another smashed chair. He quickly closed in.
The black mist wasn't about to let Coulson draw near. Seeing the chair fail to stop him, it wrapped itself around a gun and aimed it at Coulson.
Even though his will was unstable, his mind still worked. And since he still had a human brain, he could still think like one. Naturally, he used a weapon—he planned to shoot Coulson.
Coulson's only advantage was his swordsmanship. Other than that, he was just an ordinary human. Against regular opponents, he could maybe take on five or six, but a bullet would kill him just like anyone else.
The creature raised the gun. Natasha and Coulson saw it instantly, and Coulson tensed, preparing to dodge.
But before he could—
Bang!
"Huh? Why… doesn't it hurt?"
Coulson instinctively froze and looked down at himself. There was no blood, no bullet hole. He was completely unharmed.
Shock washed over him.
"What are you standing there for? Move!" Natasha's shout exploded in his earpiece.
Coulson turned and saw her holding a smoking handgun, aiming at the black mist.
He looked back again and saw the pistol the mist had been holding lying on the floor.
He understood immediately—the shot was from Natasha. Her target had been the gun wrapped in the mist.
The mist itself was incorporeal; normal weapons, including bullets, couldn't harm it. But anything it was physically holding or wrapping around could be struck.
Natasha had shot the gun out of its grip.
Realizing this, Coulson stopped hesitating. He crossed the distance in a single step and swung down at the pinned area of the mist.
The mist twisted, avoiding his strike. Its form was ethereal—it didn't need a body and could shift into hundreds of shapes. That was why it normally didn't fear Natasha or Coulson.
It could avoid nearly every attack.
"Don't swing at random! Hit the part that's pinned to the floor!" Natasha reminded him.
Coulson turned toward the dagger embedded in the floor. Without thinking, he swung toward the section pinned by the blade.
The mist panicked. It split in two, one part lifting a table and the other grabbing another chair, both smashing toward the incoming sword.
Clang!
The sword hit the table edge, lodging deep into it. Coulson tried to pull it free—but it didn't budge.
The black mist burst into laughter. Another chair was hurled at him.
Coulson saw it flying toward him. He couldn't let go of the sword—it was their last chance. If he abandoned it, they were both doomed, and he would die horribly. He had to risk everything.
He braced himself for the impact—and then—
Bang!
Another gunshot from Natasha.
But this time she didn't hit the incoming chair. Instead, she struck the table where the sword was stuck.
It seemed irrelevant—almost useless—
But Coulson's eyes lit up.
The bullet shattered the part of the table trapping the sword.
Coulson yanked hard. The sword came free instantly—just as the chair was about to smash into him.
He stepped back half a stride, narrowly avoiding the blow.
Then he twisted his wrist and swung upward in a powerful arc.
A shrill scream ripped through the room.
His sword carved through the mist. The portion holding the chair was severed, falling to the ground and solidifying into an arm—a human arm—covered in hot, fresh blood.
Seeing the attack succeed, Coulson didn't stop. He rolled across the ground and thrust his sword forward again.
The mist, though in agony after losing an arm, hadn't completely lost its senses. It twisted away from Coulson's stab.
The blade struck empty air, and the sword was about to hit the floor when Coulson planted one hand down, redirected the blade mid-motion, and stabbed again.
The black mist was furious. Time and again it had been wounded. Rage boiled over.
It dodged the sword and began to fight back violently.
The dagger pinning it had already been loosened. Its struggles shook it even more. The pain was unbearable—but the hope of escape was stronger.
It thrashed harder.
Coulson saw it and felt a surge of panic. His attacks became faster, more desperate, his sword carving through the air again and again.
Suddenly—
The mist jerked backward.
The dagger popped free.
The creature tore itself loose.
"Ha! I'm finally free! And now—you're dead!"
Laughing wildly, it darted toward the unarmed Natasha. Coulson thought he could stay behind, attack first—
No.
It was aiming to kill Natasha.
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