In the evening, on a bench along the bank of the Hudson River, Black Widow Natasha gazed at the sunset and then glanced at the watch on her wrist.
The shimmering river surface reflected a bright crimson light onto her face, making it impossible to discern her expression.
"Ta-ta."
Hearing footsteps behind her, she checked her watch once more.
"Hey, is this red-haired beauty waiting for someone? Oh, it seems like you're waiting for me! Sorry I'm late—you know how evening rush hour traffic is absolutely brutal!"
Natasha maintained an expressionless face. "It's fine. You're only one hour, forty-eight minutes, and twenty-six seconds late."
"Oh, that's too bad!"
Jason sat down beside her and said, "There's not much I could do about it. There are dozens of agents surrounding me, and I'm a little concerned. If we ever have a falling out, I need to have an escape route planned. It took some time... I hope you don't mind? Like... I don't mind that guy with the bow and arrow who keeps aiming at me! Um, are you sure he can actually hit a moving target?"
Black Widow took a deep breath. Within moments of their meeting, he had already delivered several thinly veiled warnings.
"...Of course he can. Barton is a professional."
"That's good."
Jason relaxed into the bench, watching the sunset and humming a little tune.
Black Widow began to reassess the armored man before her. He was more perceptive than she had anticipated.
"Mr. Iron... Man, you seem quite familiar with our organization?"
Jason turned his head and studied her. Under the light of the setting sun, Black Widow looked exceptionally beautiful and alluring.
For such a woman, it suddenly became understandable that someone might be obsessed enough to drink her bathwater.
Unfortunately, the name "Black Widow" already foreshadowed her dangerous nature.
Jason didn't answer her question directly, but instead asked, "What's that awkward name your organization goes by?"
Black Widow looked puzzled but replied anyway: "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."
"I'll give you an abbreviation. How about... SHIELD?"
"What?"
His response completely caught her off guard.
How could he casually suggest renaming another organization just like that?
Frowning slightly, she suddenly realized that she seemed to have lost control of the conversation.
Take it back!
But Jason's next words made it impossible for her to regain her composure: "By the way, do you want to kill Dreykov and destroy his Red Room?"
Black Widow's heart raced—this question touched on what mattered most to her. "He's dead!"
"Where did he die?"
"Budapest!"
"Fake!"
Jason looked her directly in the eyes. "That bomb didn't kill him. But congratulations, you successfully traumatized his sweet and innocent daughter. While she was dying, Dreykov implanted a chip in her, turning her into a living, breathing killing machine!"
The Black Widow froze, her entire body rigid with shock.
The Black Widow sitting before Jason was the first gold-level target he had ever encountered.
Judging from his foreknowledge, she would become a qualified superhero.
But she came from the Red Room and had significant blood on her hands.
So, should he kill her?
She had killed innocent people, but she had also saved innocent people.
She would eventually become a force for good.
The Buddha said, "Put down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha immediately."
That's bullshit.
Jason believed in fighting evil with evil—bad people would continue their evil deeds until they were dead.
Killing them was equivalent to indirectly saving countless lives.
But now, if Natasha were killed, Jason couldn't replace her future role, which might mean that people she would have saved would die instead. Jason didn't know the specific criteria the system used to evaluate target.
But he wasn't merely a pawn of the system.
To kill or not to kill—he was the final decision maker!
Such a beauty was a pleasure to behold. It would be a shame to kill her.
He suddenly recalled a phrase he often saw in the system messages.
"Natasha, tell me, if a person has committed terrible sins, what should they do to achieve redemption?"
Black Widow looked up, slightly dazed. "I..."
"Let me tell you: Killing! Only by eliminating the truly evil can you find redemption!"
"That's bullshit!"
A loud shout came from behind Jason!
He didn't appear angry, but instead smiled and said, "Mr. Barton, this is our first meeting. I've been curious about your archery skills for quite some time. It's a shame that after aiming at me so many times, you never took a shot. I was looking forward to dodging your arrows."
Hawkeye ignored him.
He looked at the guilt-stricken Black Widow with concern and fury: "What evidence do you have for these accusations? What's your real agenda here?"
Jason raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. The system hadn't marked Barton as target, suggesting he was just an ordinary agent with a conscience.
"What agenda could I possibly have, Mr. Barton? Wasn't it your organization, SHIELD, that invited me here?"
Clint Barton rolled his eyes and said, "I'm telling you, we are called the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, not some ridiculous S.H.I.E.L.D.! Not now, and not ever!"
Jason smiled and replied, "Haha, it seems like what you say doesn't carry much weight, does it?"
Hawkeye gritted his teeth. "Hmph, if the director actually listens to you and changes our name to that ridiculous acronym, I'll quit the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division altogether!"
Jason raised his eyebrows. "You're so full of confidence. Why call yourself Hawkeye? I'll give you a new name: Confidence Man!"
Hawkeye glared at him, then quickly moved to Black Widow's side and gripped her shoulders supportively.
"Natasha, it's not your fault! We developed that plan together. Even if what this guy says is true, I bear half the responsibility!"
Black Widow looked at him sadly and shook her head. "No, I designed the plan and planted the bomb. You were just a witness. This has nothing to do with you. I should bear full responsibility."
"That guy is lying!"
Black Widow shook her head. Jason had been very close to her moments ago. His breath and eyes had told her he wasn't lying.
She looked at Jason, who stared back intently. "Natasha, I hope you'll let Hawkeye share half the responsibility with you."
Black Widow took a deep breath. "How bad is it?"
"Dreykov has trained... thousands of Black Widows!"
Black Widow was stunned. After a long moment, she murmured, "If I had killed him properly the first time, none of this would have happened, right?"
Jason shook his head and sighed, saying this certainly wasn't entirely Black Widow's fault.
But it was precisely because SHIELD believed her report and thought Dreykov was dead that the Red Room was allowed to flourish and expand rapidly.
She bore an undeniable responsibility.
"How many corpses would it take to train thousands of professional female assassins? How much blood will be on their hands? This is what I told you—only killing can bring redemption!"
Black Widow remained silent, seemingly deep in thought.
Clint Barton grew increasingly anxious. He wanted to comfort Natasha, but couldn't find the right words.
He knew her history and her character all too well.
So instead, he redirected his attention to Jason: "After saying all this, what exactly is your purpose?"
Jason smiled. "Purpose? Why do I need a purpose? Isn't this what a righteous hero should do?"
Hawkeye paused. "You, righteous? You've killed numerous people in Hell's Kitchen! You're not just a poisoner and a murderer—you're a sadistic killer! Hell's Butcher!"
Does anyone even know who the Confidence Man is?
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