Hydra Attacks

A safe house somewhere in Kabul, the capital of Afghanistan.

"You're really planning to short Stark stock?!" Stark wore an expression like he was constipated as he awkwardly watched Mike make preparations on the computer.

"Of course... The moment you safely return to the United States, Stark stock will inevitably soar. Then you'll announce the closure of the weapons division, and the stock will plummet. Wow, it'll be like riding a roller coaster. The shareholders are going to have one hell of an emotional ride."

The best window was only the brief period between Stark landing on United States soil and announcing the closure of the weapons division.

So Mike had to make his preparations in advance.

"I'm a man who knows the secret to riches!" Mike flashed a wicked smile.

Preparing to fleece the company right in front of its CEO—Mike was utterly heartless.

Stark got pissed off again. When he caught sight of Mike's account balance, he froze. This so-called man who knew the secret to riches only had a seven-figure balance?

Heh heh~

If he knew that the system would deduct it down to six figures after the mission was complete, he would probably feel even better.

Stark patted Mike on the shoulder. "Keep it up. Double it again, and maybe you'll match my weekly allowance. I believe in you, kid."

Mike stiffened.

Rich bastard Stark deserved to be condemned by everyone!

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Mike changed the subject. "You must be exhausted, mentally and physically."

"Why sleep so much while alive? There will be plenty of time to rest after death," Stark said in an overly literary tone.

"Speak normally." Mike rolled his eyes.

"I can't sleep..."

"Oh, want me to sing you a lullaby?"

"Fuck off!" Stark shot Mike a glare, saying that ever since he had woken from his coma, he had been thinking—reviewing his former life, his attitude toward life, humanity, faith, blah blah blah...

Mike was nearly falling asleep listening to him and complained, "You should be telling this to a psychiatrist."

"Impossible!" Stark declared decisively. "Tony Stark, seeing a psychiatrist? People would laugh if that got out. How would I show off afterward?"

"You're not afraid I'll laugh at you?" Mike asked.

"I feel like you've been laughing at me this whole time. Whatever." Stark sounded helpless.

"So, what is it? You think you've transformed? You want to devote yourself to the great cause of humanity's interests and world peace, cultivate yourself from now on, stop going to nightclubs, stop throwing parties, and stay away from beautiful women?"

"Well... what necessary connection is there between world peace and staying away from beautiful women?"

"There isn't?"

"Is there?"

At that moment, Clint walked over and plopped down. "Are you two children?"

"Tch!" ×2.

Clint said to Mike, "Go get some sleep. This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house. It's very secure."

It's precisely because this is a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house that I don't feel safe. I don't dare sleep, in case everything falls apart at the last moment, Mike complained inwardly.

Back then, Hydra had assassinated Howard Stark because he had caused Hydra tremendous losses. At the same time, as long as he was around, Hydra's plan to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. progressed slowly.

Hydra feared that Tony Stark would become a second Howard Stark. So, in a strange twist of fate, Tony Stark's playboy and irresponsible image had indirectly saved him.

An agent in black hurried over. "Sir, unidentified armed personnel have appeared outside. They've surrounded the safe house."

Clint and Mike sprang to their feet and quickly headed outside.

Stark looked at the agent in black. "Why aren't you leaving?"

The agent in black pointed his gun at Stark. "Mr. Stark, looks like you'll have to come with us. Don't try to call for help, or we'll have no choice but to kill you!"

"Don't move! Or I'll have no choice but to kill you!"

A kunai had somehow appeared against the black-clad agent's throat.

Stark looked delightedly at Clint and Mike, who had returned after leaving. "How did you..."

Pfft!

The kunai suddenly sliced open the black-clad agent's throat. Blood sprayed all over Stark's face.

"...come back?" Stark blankly watched Mike kill the man, unconsciously finishing his sentence.

He wiped his face. The blood was sticky, and its stench drilled into his nostrils.

"Urgh~"

Stark bent over, clutching his stomach as he dry-heaved.

Clint said, "We were already short on manpower. Why didn't he notify us by radio? He specifically came over in person, and if there was danger, standard procedure was to immediately seal the safe house and trigger the internal alarm. It was obviously suspicious."

Mike said, "Unless I've confirmed that Tony is absolutely safe, I won't leave him alone."

Stark took off his T-shirt and roughly wiped his face.

"Thanks for the thoughtful explanation, but right now I want to know why you killed him!" Stark asked agitatedly.

Clint also looked at Mike. Clearly, he wanted to know the answer too.

"I told him not to move."

"But he didn't move!"

"His heartbeat suddenly sped up, and his muscle fibers contracted... He didn't move, but he was about to."

Mike suddenly hurled the kunai.

Pfft!

Another agent had just poked his head around the corner when he clutched his throat, making a gurgling sound before collapsing dead.

"I'm rather sensitive to sounds!"

"What about him?" Clint frowned. "Why did you kill him?"

Mike said, "Since the alarm didn't go off, that means the others either couldn't trigger it or had a problem."

Clint said, "That's assuming someone really did surround the safe house."

"Well..." Mike looked at the agent with the slashed throat. "He wasn't lying about that. Let's go check the surveillance room."

There were two corpses in the surveillance room. One was the safe house administrator, and the other was the last agent Clint had brought with him.

Clint's expression darkened. Two out of a three-man agent team had turned out to be compromised.

What had he just said? "This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house. It's very secure."

That had come back to slap him in the face at light speed.

The surveillance equipment had not been damaged. Perhaps the enemy believed victory was assured. From the monitors, there were fifteen enemies, blocking off the safe house from all directions. They were waiting for their two accomplices inside to either succeed or fail.

"Breaking out isn't realistic, and the vehicles have most likely already been sabotaged."

Clint's expression was grim. "Prepare for battle."

Mike had no objections.

Stark took a gun from one of the dead agents.

Mike asked, "Do you know how to use a gun?"

Stark wore an expression that said, Are you insulting me? "I'm American. Is there any American man who doesn't know how to use a gun?"

Mike asked again, "How's your aim?"

Stark looked slightly embarrassed. "Depends on my luck."

Mike wore an expression that said, You really are asking to be insulted.

Stark suddenly said, "What about Ian? He's still asleep."

Mike said, "Then let him keep sleeping. This will be over soon."

Hearing Mike's words, Stark felt incredibly reassured.

Clint was now fully armed. Two pistols and a row of magazines hung from his waist, several daggers were strapped to his thighs and calves, two automatic rifles were crossed over his back, and he held his customary bow.

Clint suddenly looked a little embarrassed. "Could you not use that thick mist?"

Without visibility, a sharpshooter like him would be half useless.

"Fine." Mike muttered, "What a pain."

For Mike, the Hidden Mist Technique did more than obscure vision and conceal his body. It was also an important method of perception.

Fortunately, they were in the surveillance room and could track the enemy's movements.

A few minutes later, apparently when the agreed time had passed, the enemy began moving. They first destroyed the exterior cameras, then easily entered the safe house.

It had begun!