Hawkeye's retirement plans had been brought up time and again. He said it in public and in private, but his own dismal finances and enormous family expenses kept forcing him to slap himself in the face. Whatever stocks he bought fell, whatever business he started lost money, and the only skill he had in this life was fighting and killing. Retirement would have to wait for now.
While he brooded over his future, War Machine began feeling terrible all over.
The Air Force colonel was used to open, head-on combat. His armor's firepower was undeniably formidable. Against Gotham gangsters who barely even wore bulletproof vests, calling that fully armed suit unbeatable in Gotham would not be an exaggeration.
But he still could not ignore civilians or slaughter indiscriminately. That moment of hesitation allowed an enemy hiding among the civilians to ambush him with a bomb. The hallucinogenic agent inside bypassed the armor's air circulation system, leaving him in unbearable agony. Countless hallucinations flooded his mind. He knew they were illusions, yet his limbs still convulsed and his thoughts stiffened, forcing him to crawl out of the armor.
Black Widow injected him with an antidote specially developed by S.H.I.E.L.D. The effect could only be described as somewhat alleviating his condition.
Nebula also used her scanning methods to determine seventy or eighty percent of the hallucinogen's composition, but a complete cure would still take time.
Though she held no official leadership authority, Black Widow still placed herself in the leader's role. The other three had no objections.
The city called Gotham gave her a very bad feeling. Demons danced everywhere, and there was no order whatsoever. In her memory, only the most chaotic cities before Russia's collapse could compare to this place.
She did not want to waste too much time in