Awakening Kryptonian Bloodline In Marvel.

"Master Malrick, maybe Miss Natasha really is something special. She doesn't seem swayed by money and genuinely upholds a sense of justice."

After everyone had left, Jarvis's voice echoed again.

Malrick replied casually, "Yeah, she's a good subordinate. Loyal, indifferent to fame and fortune, and not afraid to make sacrifices. Where else would you find someone like that?"

"Master... your insight is remarkable, always beyond my calculations," Jarvis said.

"Naturally," Malrick replied, swiping across the holographic screen. "By the way, check the Red Room database for anything connected to Hydra."

"Please wait... I've found eight undercover files and 316 transaction records, all tied to Hydra."

Jarvis displayed the folder on the large screen.

"However," he added, "the Red Room doesn't realize that the targets of these operations are Hydra. These results are based on the Hydra intel you uploaded earlier."

Malrick crossed his arms. "Eight agents? Looks like the Red Room's more capable than I thought—Hydra actually infiltrated them?"

"The files also indicate that a Widow agent went undercover in a Hydra-run scientific institute and was later recommended for recruitment into S.H.I.E.L.D.," Jarvis continued.

"Based on her identity, she's technically Hydra... even though she doesn't know it."

"A double agent, huh?" Malrick clapped his hands in amusement. "Suddenly Drekov seems like a genius."

He paused, then said, "Have Natasha find a way to contact this Widow and administer inhibitors immediately."

"Also, package up all files related to Hydra and transfer them to Tony's server."

"But keep the parts related to the Red Room—I'll use them for a future exposé."

"Understood, Master Malrick," Jarvis responded.

A screen popped up: [File transfer complete. Data successfully uploaded to Mr. Stark's host.]

"Excellent."

Malrick gave the table a light pat, as if congratulating Jarvis himself.

He stretched his shoulders. "That's enough work for tonight. Time for a well-earned sunbath."

"And you, Jarvis, you're off duty too. Feel free to run any simulation you want in the fortress server."

"Thank you, Master Malrick," Jarvis replied. "Though I should remind you—your next scheduled solar exposure is in four hours."

Due to safety protocols, Malrick's sunbathing sessions in orbit were regulated each month. If he wanted another boost, he'd have to wait over two weeks.

"Right, I forgot." Malrick rubbed his chin. "Guess I'll help the girls clean up the bodies instead."

He floated out of the command center and joined the Widow agents in body collection. What would've taken hours was done in under ten minutes.

With time to spare, Malrick gathered everyone in the officer's mess for an impromptu party.

At first, the food was simple fast food, but the stars of the night were the copious bottles of whiskey and champagne he'd hauled up from the wine cellar.

The girls sat at the long table, each with a plate and a glass. They were stiff at first, uncertain, unaccustomed to this kind of freeform social event.

But after a few rounds of top-shelf champagne, laughter began to flow.

At first they whispered in small groups... then slowly grew bold enough to ask Malrick all kinds of questions.

By the end, the room was alive with singing, drinking, and cheers. The girls raised their glasses, some even circling Malrick as they sang nursery rhymes from their childhoods—English, German, Russian, Portuguese—one after another.

Nearly a hundred hands occasionally lingered on him, only for Malrick to brush them off with a helpless smile.

By the midpoint of the party, most of the Widows were still lively, thanks to their enhanced physiologies—they couldn't get drunk easily.

That didn't stop their behavior from growing increasingly bold… and increasingly suggestive.

Malrick started to feel like he was no longer hosting a celebration but being hunted at it.

With a tactful smile, he quietly slipped out, leaving the giddy group to enjoy themselves.

"Phew… Next time, definitely not hosting dinner for that many girls again."

He grabbed a towel and began wiping the lipstick off his face.

"Especially girls who don't get drunk no matter how much they drink—but get bolder the more they try," a voice teased softly.

"Huh?" Malrick turned, surprised.

Natasha stood leaning against the wall, a playful smirk on her face. She handed him another towel.

"Why didn't you stay for a few more drinks? Your sister's already taken off her coat and started doing the Gopak dance," Malrick joked.

Natasha stepped forward, taking the towel and gently wiping the smudges off his neck and ears.

"If I were inside, how would I catch you before someone else did?" Her amber eyes glimmered mischievously.

Malrick studied her face—so close. "So I escaped the tiger's den… only to walk into the wolf's lair?"

It had to be said—without using X-ray vision, Natasha was stunning.

"What do you think?" she whispered, standing on tiptoe, looping her arms around his neck.

Her breath was warm against his ear. "Do I still smell bad to you, bad guy?"

"Hard to say," Malrick murmured. "Maybe I should take a closer sniff and find out."

Natasha tilted her head, cheek brushing his. She sniffed him teasingly.

"But I think you smell pretty good. Want to come to my room and find out why?"

"Are you serious?"

Her fingers traced down the 'S' symbol on his chest.

"Depends. Are you willing to be the shore where I finally land?"

"I'd be honored."

Their silhouettes melded together as they stepped into the elevator, heading back to Natasha's room.

The door slammed shut behind them.

---

Beep! Beep!

Jarvis's urgent alert pierced the silence. The beeping wouldn't stop.

"...Huh?" Malrick cracked one eye open, reaching for his phone from the crumpled Superman suit on the floor.

Ding.

Jarvis's voice appeared on the screen, represented by a wave animation.

"Master Malrick, apologies for disturbing your rest—but Mr. Stark may need your assistance."

"Tony?" Malrick instantly sat up. "What's going on?"

"He's on the top deck of the fortress. He was stopped by the Widows. It seems urgent."

"What? Why's he even here?" Malrick muttered. "Tell him to stay calm. No conflict. They're family now. I'll head over."

Malrick gently tugged on the arm draped across him and tapped the bump under the quilt.

"You're awake. No use pretending. I'm going to see Tony—get dressed and catch up."

Natasha peeked out from under the blanket, eyes no longer sharp but soft like a summer lake.

"When will I see you again?" she asked, hugging the quilt, her tousled hair falling over her bare shoulder.

Malrick threw on his uniform. "Whenever you want to see me."

"What do you think our relationship is now?" she asked coyly.

He raised an eyebrow. "The one and only special friend?"

"You're greedy… but I'll allow it." Natasha hugged her knees beneath the blanket. "You're my boss, but don't dock my pay in the future."

Malrick smirked. "Pay? Didn't I already give you so much last night you couldn't handle it with both hands?"

Natasha yanked the quilt over her head in embarrassment.

After Malrick left, she peeked back out, her fingers tracing invisible shapes in the air.

In the stillness of the room, she smirked and whispered a silent "Wow."

---

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