A rustling sound reached Clint's ears. He immediately opened his eyes, rolled tactically to his feet, and drew the bow he had kept clutched in his hand, aiming it straight ahead.
He had not been this tense in a long time. Ever since the first infected person appeared three days ago, Clint had felt as though his heart, which had been on the verge of dying, had started beating again.
Of course, becoming an Avenger did not mean he never had tough battles to fight. But compared to the danger of dying at any moment on the battlefield, his career as a superhero had done little to rekindle Clint's passion.
Back when Clint was an agent, he had been flesh and blood, and so had his teammates. It had been nothing like the Avengers, where he could rely on the strongest and smartest teammates in the world.
But Clint's excellent eyesight soon revealed that no infected person had crept up on him. It was Brad, the veteran he had met at the ski resort, gathering up a large pile of fallen leaves.
"What are you doing?"
Although he still asked the question, Clint had already calmed down.
Nothing was more reassuring in a crisis than discovering that you had a reliable teammate at your side.
Clint still remembered standing at the vending machine beside the Ski Club's changing room, trying to pick out an Energy Drink that tasted decent.
Just as he bent over, a pair of large hands slapped Clint's ass.
Thanks to his excellent eyesight, Clint recognized the person who had slapped his ass in the reflection on the vending machine's glass. It was Puchi, an instructor at the ski resort.
They were still in the United States, after all, and Instructor Puchi had known Clint for years,