Outside the evening party venue, within a radius of one hundred meters, various powerful forces had forcefully intervened within just a few minutes.
Helicopters and armored vehicles formed three layers of security around the perimeter. Countless armed personnel, as if executing a rescue operation, used night vision devices and stood ready with weapons, sealing off and guarding the scene.
‘Symbol of Peace.’
From the moment Stane heard these four words, he seemed to be crushed by the weight of the title. It was as if he had suddenly lost all his strength. His gaze became hollow and vacant, and his hands and feet trembled uncontrollably. His once ruddy complexion turned deathly pale.
Perhaps the younger generation of this new era knew of him through history books and sculptures in the streets as a national symbol, or perhaps as a hero, an idol, or a legendary figure.
However, only those who had personally experienced the dark days of World War II could truly understand what the Symbol of Peace represented.
He had been a beacon of light in a dark age, the Earth’s mightiest combatant, he was akin to a god.
“Mr. Carl… it’s him,” Stane murmured bitterly to himself. He found it absurd that he had acted in haste and foolishly provoked the one person he should never have crossed paths with.
Stane’s momentary lapse went unnoticed by the representatives of the various forces. At this moment, their full attention was focused on the entrance to the evening party.
Just as they were about to allow special forces and agents to enter, a faint noise suddenly emanated from the night sky above. It was the sound of engines and rushing air currents, sharper and more powerful than the helicopter blades.
As the crowd looked up in confusion, a black steel fighter jet emerged from its camouflage, suddenly revealing itself from less than fifty meters of altitude. It forced over a dozen military helicopters to give way and smoothly landed on the lawn in front of the evening party entrance.
The cabin deck lowered, and a middle-aged man with a single eye, a bald head, and dark skin, clad in a black trench coat, walked out with an air of dominance. Coulson followed closely behind him, wearing a suit that appeared perfectly filled out.
“SHIELD’s former Director, Nick·Fury.”
Upon seeing the newcomer, the faces of the representatives from various agencies immediately changed. They quickly offered their respectful salutes.
Internal personnel knew that Nick Fury had been General Kyle’s right-hand man during his military career, which he rose to during World War II.
In today’s SHIELD, which has grown in authority and size, Nick Fury, as a former Director, showed signs of inheriting the title “God of Death.” He secretly roamed the world, giving Hydra remnants and terrorists headaches.
“What are you all doing?” Fury walked up and said not in an angry but in an imposing tone. His gaze swept over the large number of armed personnel at the evening party entrance.
“Terrorists?” Fury raised an eyebrow at the mention of terrorists. He then smiled wryly and asked in a deep voice, “If the person inside can be threatened by a few firearms, how did he earn the title Symbol of Peace? Why would you need your soldiers to take action?”
The representatives fell into silence. Indeed, even elementary school students knew that the Symbol of Peace represented the pinnacle of the nation’s power, a single individual symbolizing the top combatant of World War II.
“Have your other subordinates stay outside. You few can come with me,” Fury shrugged before he spoke. Without waiting for their response, he walked towards the entrance to the evening party venue with swift and determined steps.
Inside the evening party at this moment, the vast and luxurious ballroom had fallen into an eerie silence.
After dancing to the last beat of the music, Kyle gently held Raina’s soft waist, which he had embraced with a single wristband. He looked around calmly, observing the enemies who had been firing continuously until their magazines were empty.
The six terrorists all had their faces concealed, making it impossible to discern their expressions. However, the hands holding the pistols were trembling slightly, and cold sweat soaked their hoods and clothes. It made them shiver under the air conditioning’s cold breeze, feeling both physically and mentally chilled.
With their limited understanding, they clearly couldn’t comprehend the scene before them— no matter how many shots they fired, not a single bullet could pierce through, even when aimed at their target.
To them, the handguns that could easily threaten the lives of ordinary people seemed laughably useless against Kyle and Raina.
Just as ants could carry objects fifty times their own weight but could never move humans, the same principle applied here.
“Run! Scatter!”
The leader of the terrorists’ teeth chattered as he fearfully uttered this command, but as soon as he turned around, he saw a red-haired woman wearing a black and gold mask with a devilish smile on her face.
“Where do you think you’re running to?” The woman in black appeared behind him, seemingly out of nowhere, standing less than a meter away, her icy gaze locking onto him.
Not only the leader but also the other five terrorists were astonished to discover that there were one or two masked individuals standing behind them as well.
Some wore Vibranium Bracers on their hands, others carried Carbonadium Sword on their backs, and they were all equipped with energy pistols. They approached silently like ghosts, closing in on the terrorists from behind.
“Leave one of them alive,” Raina declared as if pronouncing a death sentence, her face as cold as ice, and the silvery pupils of her beautiful eyes dimmed.
Dozens of suspended bullets dropped to the ground with a clatter. Simultaneously, a series of crisp cracking sounds echoed through the air.
The five terrorists had no room for resistance. Their necks were simultaneously snapped, and life drained from their bodies as they collapsed onto the cold dance floor.
The leader, on the other hand, was knocked unconscious without ceremony. Despite his bear-like build, the slender hands of the woman in black lifted him and tossed him backward, slamming him onto a table five meters away.
Having completed all of this, the black-clad individuals collectively knelt excitedly and saluted Kyle with a single knee. “Greetings, Master of the Family!”
“You’re not too late,” Kyle said with a calm smile as he released his embrace from around Raina’s waist.
Raina’s beautiful eyes displayed a hint of curiosity, and there was even a touch of reluctance, but it quickly disappeared, leaving behind an enigmatic clarity akin to the gem.
Kyle removed his sunglasses, revealing his golden pupils. His gaze settled on the woman in black, and the shoulder-length, blood-red hair gave away her true identity.
Natasha.
Tonight, she hadn’t come as a SHIELD agent but as a Card Bearer. This showed her loyalty to the Carl Family, a loyalty she had maintained all these years.
“Who are these people, Master of the Family? Who is he really?”
Ella had been hiding behind a table in a corner, holding her breath as she watched the events unfold in the ballroom. She observed the mysterious black-clad individuals who had efficiently dealt with the terrorists and Kyle, who stood with his back to her.
Just five minutes in this world had brought about the appearance of the Black Queen, a terrorist attack, and the enigmatic counterattack of the black-clad individuals. Everything seemed to revolve around the silver-haired young man she had just conversed with.
The twists and turns of tonight’s events were simply too much to take in. Each of these incidents, taken separately, could have been a headline news story on any other day!
(End of this chapter)
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