Leaving Doctor Strange's house, the streets outside were cloaked in darkness.
It was already late into the night, nearly morning.
Fenric didn't linger. Together with Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver, he checked into a five-star hotel. He booked two rooms in total—one for Quicksilver, and one for himself and Scarlet Witch.
The siblings' loyalty to Fenric had already reached one hundred percent. Not only would they never refuse him, but instead they viewed his favor as a privilege. To Scarlet Witch, it was even an honor—though she remained shy about it.
By dawn, the city outside stirred awake, but Scarlet Witch still lay curled in Fenric's arms. Her chest pressed softly against him as she slept soundly.
From the exhaustion written on her face, it was clear she had been overwhelmed the previous night.
Fenric didn't wake her. Instead, he stayed still, gazing at the ceiling as he organized his thoughts.
So far, he had secured four subordinates. That left six places open.
The problem was, Earth didn't have an endless supply of heroes.
Black Widow and Hawkeye, while competent, were only slightly stronger than ordinary humans. Wasting a slot on them wasn't worth it. Even Captain America was little more than a backup option in Fenric's eyes.
The Hulk was powerful, but Fenric decided to hold off until Ultron was dealt with.
Thor, however, was out of the question now. With his current strength, Fenric dared not risk provoking the wrath of Odin, the God-King of Asgard.
By that calculation, Fenric realized the available heroes were too few.
Then his eyes narrowed as a new thought struck him.
The task only requires subordinates. It doesn't say they have to be heroes. If I can't gather enough champions of justice… then villains will do just fine.
The Marvel Universe was full of formidable villains, after all.
Beside him, Scarlet Witch stirred awake. She blinked, then turned toward Fenric. When she saw him watching her with a faint smile, her cheeks flushed red.
"Master…" she whispered.
"You're awake? Hungry?" Fenric asked warmly. "Go wash up. I'll have the hotel bring us breakfast."
"Mm." She nodded shyly, slipped out of bed, pulled on her pajamas, and walked toward the bathroom. Her steps were a little awkward, but she obeyed without question.
By noon, the three of them left the hotel. Fenric had already arranged first-class tickets to New York, and the hotel's private car delivered them directly to the airport.
In the USA, money could solve almost anything.
Several hours later, as evening fell, Fenric and his companions landed at New York Airport.
The moment he stepped off the plane, Fenric made a call.
"Natasha, are you free? Let's have dinner together."
There was a beat of surprise on the other end before Natasha's voice came through. "Ronan? You're in New York?"
"Of course," Fenric chuckled. "Just got off the plane."
"Tell me where to meet you."
Fenric named a location, then hung up.
By the time he had secured a private dining room in a hotel, Natasha had already arrived, her movements brisk and efficient.
"You look tired," Fenric said with a smile as she stepped in.
"Not everyone gets to be as relaxed as you," Natasha replied dryly, then arched a brow. "Where are your two little attendants?"
"Resting upstairs," Fenric answered easily.
She crossed her arms. "Then go on, Ronan. What did you call me here for?"
Fenric leaned back in his chair, his smile faint but deliberate. "I want you to take me somewhere."