On this peaceful day, no one realized that the gears of fate had already begun to turn.
John felt a strange tremor in his heart, a sensation he had never experienced before.
"Could it be that Shang-Chi is talking behind my back?"
Rubbing his nose, John felt a wave of confusion. After arranging for those close to him to leave the city, he began to prepare for the coming battle.
This was going to be a tough fight.
"I need a spell to protect the house."
Thinking of a certain unlucky guy whose newly built building was demolished after this battle, John decided he should at least protect his own property.
Inside his home, he pulled out his wand and began to wave it.
"Protego Totalum."
A soft light flowed from the tip of his wand, connecting to the void and spreading out to form a barrier that could shield the house. This was a powerful protective spell, capable of preventing damage to the house within a certain range.
After casting this magic on both his laboratory and his residence, John headed to Taran Industries.
***
Ivan had just finished installing an exhaust system for the second-generation Fighter armor, finally allowing his notorious body odor to dissipate.
When John found him, Ivan was shamelessly flirting with the coffee shop waitress.
John coughed.
Ivan turned, immediately looking away. "What? This isn't an office romance."
"You are twenty years older than her," John said as he walked over. "If you got married, she could be your daughter's best friend."
"This is America," Ivan replied, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "There is no age gap in love."
"But your body has aged," John replied mercilessly. "Are you sure you like her as a person? You are just lusting after her body. That is despicable."
"Alright, I surrender," Ivan said, raising his hands. "Whatever you want with me, it can't just be to stop me from flirting with a woman, right?"
He could not believe John would be so bored.
Although John did not like people having office romances, he was not someone who hated others falling in love. It was more out of concern.
John got back to the point. He glanced at the bracelet on his wrist. "A war is coming, Ivan. I need you to be ready."
"War?" Ivan asked, surprised. "What kind of war could come to New York?"
"Aliens," John answered with a mysterious smile. "Remember what I said? You need a bigger stage."
Ivan grinned. "Now I am starting to look forward to it."
How could a child of a fighting nation be afraid?
Not long ago, Taran Industries had launched a new satellite. The satellite, named Hive, was equipped with several weapon box systems. If war broke out, it could provide ground support from the sky at any time.
After dealing with Ivan, John went to find others.
***
Dax had become a member of the FBI's internal investigation team. Ray was convinced there was a traitor among them, so Dax began his screening work. He had considered killing a few people during the investigation, but he managed to hold back.
John and Dax met in Central Park.
"So now you are investigating yourself?" John asked, amused.
Ray really knew how to investigate cases, starting by eliminating the right answer. No one would ever suspect that Dax, who was now in the spotlight, was actually the Night Ghost.
The Kingpin incident alone was enough for them to get promotions and raises. Who would still want to be a masked vigilante, risking their life every night? Not everyone was a billionaire whose parents were killed in an alley, who then used their wealth to become a hero.
Iron Man is rich, right? You do not see him bothering with petty street fights. He only deals with terrorist-level threats.
"A war is about to break out in this city, Dax," John said as he scattered bread crumbs for the pigeons. "You need to be ready for what's coming."
Dax nodded without hesitation. "I'll protect the civilians."
John shook his head. "No. I want you to protect yourself. You're more important than anyone else."
Hearing this, Dax, who had longed for love since childhood, felt what it was like to be someone's priority for the first time. The feeling stunned him. After a long pause, he nodded firmly. "I will, Mr. Wick."
"Don't overwork yourself," John said gently. "Uphold justice when you can, but there is no need to throw your life away. Learning to be a little selfish is the most important lesson I want you to understand."
John stood up and walked away. Dax sat for a while, watching the pigeons, then went to the bakery and bought some bread crumbs.
He returned to the bench and sat like John had, scattering crumbs for the pigeons. The birds gathered at his feet. One hopped onto the bench and pecked at the bread beside him. Dax looked at the dove, a symbol of peace. He reached out his hand. With a gentle squeeze, he could have easily ended its life, giving in to that dark urge. The pigeon, unaware, kept pecking at the crumbs. As Dax's hand closed in, it seemed too late for the bird to escape.
But at the last moment, the dove took flight.
Dax watched the pigeon leave his hand. He had not made a move. Perhaps from that moment on, the bloodthirsty urge in his heart was like a beast in chains. It roared, but it did not escape.
***
Natasha had been captured.
Anyone who has read enough spy novels knows what happens to female agents in some countries after they are caught. It is common for female spies to be captured, and usually, things do not end well.
She was tied to a chair, unable to move. Three men stood around her. One watched her with cold, malicious eyes, as if he was already planning her fate. Another looked her up and down with a lecherous grin, making no effort to hide his thoughts. The third, an old man in a military uniform, stood with his hands in his pockets and a smug smile on his face, clearly enjoying the sight of the famous Black Widow at his mercy.
"Your performance is not what I expected."
"The famous Black Widow is just a pretty vase."
The men believed they had already won, each displaying their own twisted satisfaction.
Unfortunately, they had no idea that Natasha's apparent weakness was just an act. This was one of her oldest tricks.
When a woman seems helpless, people—whether enemies or bystanders—often let their guard down and talk more than they should.
Natasha was using this moment to gather information when suddenly, a phone call interrupted the interrogation. With that call, Natasha realized her mission was over.
The call was from Coulson. He got straight to the point.
"Natasha, Barton's been compromised."
Hearing these words, Natasha's expression instantly shifted from feigned weakness to cold determination.
If warning signs could have appeared above the three men's heads, "DANGER" would have blazed there in bright red letters.
A few minutes later, Natasha picked up the phone again. By then, she had broken free. Two men were sprawled unconscious on the ground, and the old man was hanging upside down from a chain.
She retrieved her high heels and stepped onto the floor in her black stockings.
"Where is Barton now?" she asked, her voice calm.
"We don't know," Coulson answered. After a pause, he added, "But he's alive. We think so. I'll brief you on the rest when you get back. But first, we need you to talk to the big guy."
Natasha and Barton had been friends for many years. They were comrades who trusted each other with their lives. Their bond was not love, but something closer to family, strong enough for either to risk everything for the other. Barton was in trouble, and she needed to get to him as soon as possible.
But Coulson's new directive was clear. Natasha considered her options. "Coulson, you know Stark trusts me about as far as he can throw me."
"Oh, I've got Stark," Coulson replied, his tone firm. "You get the big guy."
The big guy. Natasha registered the specific instruction. After a moment, she said, "Alright then."
"Also," Coulson paused, his voice troubled, "my boss's son."
His boss was Fury, but Fury was all about justice and obviously had no son. So it could only mean the son of another boss.
John Wick.
"You want me to talk to him?" Natasha asked.
Coulson put on a pained expression at the thought of facing John. "I will give it a try, but you know how hostile he is toward me."
As an undercover agent, he never expected to regain the trust of his former boss.
"If I cannot do it, you will have to take over."
Coulson sighed deeply. "I really wish I could trade places with the director."
He had to face that person, while his director could go meet his idol.
Coulson covered his face and sighed again.
Even through the phone, Natasha could sense Coulson's helplessness. John's face appeared in her mind.
"Will he help?"
***********
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