"Natasha, how was the harvest?" Nick Fury asked over the phone with a faint chuckle.
"You are truly wasting my time. I suspect you're deliberately retaliating against your subordinates." Natasha's tone carried clear dissatisfaction.
"Hmm? Tell me what happened." Fury sounded surprised. Wasting her time?
"You said this guy was a mutant. I saw nothing special about him. He was just an ordinary person—and a clumsy one at that. He didn't look like someone capable of killing drug kingpins." Natasha shook her head slightly.
From their brief encounter, she was certain Johnson didn't have the courage or ability for such crimes.
"This... I don't know either." Fury frowned. Logically, someone capable of silently eliminating multiple drug kingpins had to be enhanced.
As for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence being wrong?
Impossible.
If S.H.I.E.L.D.'s information was unreliable, then no intelligence in the world could be trusted.
"I've already caught him for you. The rest is your problem. Just don't ruin my vacation again." Natasha yawned, suddenly feeling a strange wave of fatigue wash over her.
Without waiting for a response, she hung up.
Fury stroked his chin thoughtfully.
Something wasn't adding up.
But he would know more once Johnson arrived for interrogation.
"Let's find a hotel first." Natasha rubbed her temples.
The exhaustion felt unnatural.
The culprit was Ren.
As a Symbiote, Venom instinctively merged with a host's genetic structure.
Natasha's body initially treated Ren as a viral invader, triggering immune resistance. In response, Ren forcefully integrated deeper.
The result? Her body entered an intense adaptive state.
That was why she felt overwhelmingly tired.
Natasha booked the nearest hotel room. After locking the door, she barely made it to the bed before collapsing into deep sleep.
Day faded into night.
Night shifted into early morning.
Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains.
Her fingers twitched.
Her eyes opened slowly.
She stretched lazily and checked the time.
Seven in the morning.
"I was unconscious for almost a full day?" Natasha frowned.
As a top operative—Black Widow—her resistance to toxins and physical strain was extraordinary. Passing out for nearly twenty-four hours without noticing was abnormal.
What had happened?
She had only come into contact with one suspicious individual.
Johnson.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Could that have been his ability?
Without hesitation, she grabbed her flip phone to call Fury.
Click.
A sharp mechanical crack echoed.
Natasha stared at the finger-sized hole she had punched straight through the device.
Her expression froze.
She had simply pressed a button.
Looking at the shattered screen and faint electrical sparks, she couldn't immediately process what had happened.
When had her strength increased to this degree?
"This is strange…" she murmured, squeezing her hand lightly.
Crack.
The lower half of the phone crumpled like paper.
"Oh my God."
She stared at the destroyed device in disbelief.
A day ago, she absolutely did not possess this kind of power.
And she hadn't even exerted force.
"Did that guy's ability turn people into monsters?"
Natasha stood abruptly and walked toward the bathroom.
Bang.
The door came off its hinges with barely a touch.
She stopped in front of the mirror.
Relief flooded her when she saw her reflection.
Still beautiful.
Still human.
No visible mutation.
"What…" She leaned closer.
Her skin looked fairer. Smoother. Tighter.
"And my strength…"
She flexed her fingers slowly.
"How is it? Isn't this power intoxicating?"
A low, magnetic voice echoed near her ear.
Natasha spun instantly into a combat stance.
"Who's there?!"
"Who am I? I'm the one who gave you this power."
Black liquid flowed from her shoulder, gathering into a grotesque, fanged face.
Natasha's pupils constricted.
"What are you? Why are you on me?"
Even for someone with her experience, seeing a monstrous face emerge from her own body made her scalp prickle.
"As expected of the host I chose. Far stronger than that coward." Ren's tone carried satisfaction.
Johnson had nearly wet himself when he first merged.
Natasha, however, remained composed.
Truly worthy of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top operative.
"That guy… you were the one killing those traffickers." Natasha connected the dots instantly.
Johnson didn't have the courage. But this thing?
It did.
"Of course. Do you think that coward could kill anyone?" Ren sneered.
"What exactly are you?" Natasha demanded, maintaining distance from the writhing mass.
"Monster? No, no, no. I'm not a monster."
Black fluid slid down her shoulder and enveloped her entire right arm. A grotesque face formed again, jaws stretching wide.
Natasha's expression finally shifted.
Her right hand was no longer responding to her commands.
"You can call me Venom," the creature said slowly. "Or you can call me Ren."
The fanged face moved closer to hers, sharp teeth gleaming.
"Nice to meet you."
A sinister grin spread wider.
"Please take care of me from now on."