He picked up the vial and tossed it into his inventory for later use. As Luke turned to leave, a nagging doubt crept in, prompting him to glance back at the corpse.
Why hadn't the system notification appeared yet? Normally, he got EXP for every living thing he killed—so what was going on here?
"Don't tell me he's still alive?" Luke thought, unease prickling at him. After all, in Marvel stories, villains are like cockroaches—never easy to kill. You think they're finished, but somehow, they keep crawling back for another round.
He frowned, took out his gun again, and leveled it at the leader. "Just to be sure," he muttered, then squeezed the trigger, sending two more shots into the man's head. Bang, bang. For good measure, he emptied the magazine.
This time, his system chimed in:
[Monster Eliminated]
[5000 EXP gained]
Luke shrugged, holstering the empty gun. When it came to Marvel villains, you could never be too careful—they had a knack for surviving the impossible.
Good thing he double-checked; turns out the guy wasn't really dead the first time, but now there was no doubt. Luke had made sure this problem wouldn't come crawling back.
Despite everything, Luke had done a decent job keeping his identity under wraps. Sure, it might seem odd—he'd faced down the Abomination with no mask, nothing covering his face, fighting in plain view.
But people tended to forget the battlefield conditions: the area had been transformed into literal hell, with flames roaring and the air thick with smoke and heat.
No camera could get a clear shot in that chaos, and any footage would be a blurry mess at best. Even if he was caught on some security cameras, his features would be little more than smudges in the inferno.
And as for coming to the lab, Luke had made sure to be discreet, taking hidden side routes to avoid attention. He took no chances—if anyone spotted him, they'd have only seen shadows in the swirling aftermath.
A sharp sound interrupted his thoughts—the echo of footsteps coming down the narrow hallway outside the lab. Instinctively, Luke drew his gun again, swapping in a fresh magazine with practiced speed.
Given all the chaos, the odds of a student or a regular lab worker wandering in now were near zero. Anyone still moving through this place had to be something else.
The figure stepped into the doorway, the harsh lab lighting catching on tactical suit and crimson hair.
Luke's eyes narrowed, recognition flashing across his face.
She wore a black tactical suit, tailored that flexed with every movement. Twin pistols were holstered against her thighs, fingerless gloves gripping the doorframe. The shock of red hair was unmistakable.
Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow.
Well… she really was just as beautiful as in the movies.
The moment her sharp eyes landed on Luke, she moved like lightning—her sidearm was already in her hand, aimed squarely at his chest.
"Well, I didn't expect to see you here," Luke said, wincing at the dull ache in his head.
Honestly, under different circumstances he would've tossed in a playful line—maybe even flirt a little, because whenever a gorgeous woman appeared the instinct kicked in—but right now his head was pounding too much to bother.
"You know me?" Natasha's tone was calm, though her eyes flickered with surprise.
Luke spoke like someone who already knew her, but she was certain they had never met. And her identity? That wasn't something people just guessed. Maybe he was bluffing. Maybe he was angling to flirt.
Then again, she knew she was beautiful. Too many men have proven that over the years.
"Yes," Luke replied without hesitation. "Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow. Top agent of S.H.I.E.L.D… and a few other things."
Her eyes narrowed. That wasn't the response of a man fishing for attention. That was someone who knew far too much—especially about S.H.I.E.L.D., which was strictly off the public radar.
"I'm sorry," she said, lips curving into a faint, almost playful smile, "but I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
Luke raised an eyebrow. "Can I take that as a date invitation?"
"Yes. And trust me," she replied smoothly, "it'll be the most exciting date you've ever had. Comes with free transportation, dinner—if you survive the questioning—and maybe a nice cell to sleep in."
Luke chuckled. "Tempting. But I've got… other priorities. Don't go thinking I rejected you because you're unattractive—you're beautiful. I just don't have the time."
Before she could pull the trigger, the ground cracked open and three jagged stone spikes shot upward, separating them with a grinding noise. Natasha reacted instantly, sidestepping, circling for a clean line of fire.
But when she came around the obstruction, Luke was gone.
Her eyes swept the lab, stance low and precise. She tapped her comm.
"Agent Romanoff to Mission Control. I've got an unknown asset. Knows too much—possibly super-powered. Proceeding with caution."
She had come to retrieve Dr. Samuel Sterns, the scientist known for working on Hulk's blood, a critical asset in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s containment projects.
But it seemed this person had arrived before her. The lab was in disarray—vials shattered, notes scattered across the floor, and Sterns himself slumped on the floor, his head riddled with bullet holes.
She clicked her comm again. "Target is dead. "
There was a pause. Then Fury's voice came through, sharp and commanding.
"Romanoff, come back. I have a new mission for you."
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Understood, sir. I'm on my way."