Chapter 27

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Wanda stepped into the slightly grimy holding room.

Metal barriers lay scattered across the floor, and through the bars, she saw a group of frightened, timid children huddled together.

Some were dressed in pajamas, others in ragged clothing.

Their fearful expressions and wide eyes reminded Wanda, Pietro, and Sergei of their own past. Just three years ago, they had been in a similar state—trapped in despair, numbness, and anxiety, never knowing if death would come at any moment.

Wanda's heart ached with pity and regret, almost overwhelming her.

Ignoring the filth, she leaned against the partition and looked down at the small, upturned faces. Gently, she spoke, "Hey, little ones, how are you?"

A little girl, drawn by Wanda's soft tone and kind face, gathered the courage to ask, "Are you here to save us, sister?"

Wanda smiled warmly. "Yes, I'm here to save you. Can you all hide in the corner for me?"

The children, obedient and trusting, held hands and shuffled back together, huddling in the corner, clinging to each other. The sight was heartwarming, almost too adorable for Wanda to bear.

Smiling, she stood up and summoned her chaotic magic, tearing the metal partition apart with ease. She tossed it aside and reassured the children, telling them not to be afraid. As red energy gently lifted the children to safety, their eyes filled with awe and excitement.

Once they were free, Wanda crouched down in front of them, scanning their pale, anxious faces. Seeing their excitement and relief brought her comfort.

Just then, Natasha's voice crackled in her ear. "Wanda, I see you."

Wanda glanced up at a camera in the corner of the room and nodded. "Are there any other children in custody?"

After a brief pause, Natasha replied, "No, that's all the ones who were left."

Wanda remained silent for a moment, understanding the painful truth. The children who should have been here—alive—were already dead. Beside her, Pietro and Sergei said nothing, but the anger in their eyes was unmistakable.

Grinding her teeth, Wanda spat out, "These damn monsters."

Natasha's voice came through again, calm but bitter. "Exactly. Most of this trash has already gone to hell."

Wanda noticed the anxious, questioning eyes of the children. She took a deep breath, calming herself, and focused on the little girl in front of her. "I'll get you all out of here, okay?"

The little girl nodded obediently. "Okay!"

Wanda smiled, gently lifting the girl into her arms and taking a little boy's hand with her other. The rest of the children followed, smiling, as they walked toward the door. Sergei and Pietro stood guard on either side, keeping a protective watch.

As they walked, the group of boys glanced up at Sergei and Pietro with eyes full of excitement and admiration. These were the heroes who had saved them.

Sergei, especially, caught their attention—his strong, 1.8-meter frame and the cross-shaped sword in his hand stirred the hearts of the boys. To them, he was the embodiment of cool.

Sergei noticed the children's gazes and flashed a warm, infectious smile that made everyone feel at ease. The nervous children began to relax, their fears melting away.

As they moved through the base, Natasha coordinated everyone's actions via the headphones from the main control room. Before long, they had cleared the entire facility.

Everyone regrouped.

In the open space, under Natasha's direction, the surrounding corpses were discreetly moved into an unseen corner to prevent the children from witnessing them and experiencing unnecessary psychological trauma.

Leon observed Wanda standing nearby, well-behaved and attentive. The children beside her were curious but remained silent, nodding politely. He glanced over at Gennady, Sumarokov, and the others, who were carrying large metal containers filled with liquid Adamantium, which would later solidify into metal.

As one of the hardest metals in the world, Adamantium was valuable but not suitable for making weapons or similar items.

At that moment, Natasha emerged from a hidden area and approached Leon, holding up two USB drives.

"Everything—the good and the bad—is here," she said, gesturing with the drives. "I've also deleted the data from their systems."

"Very good," Leon replied with satisfaction.

Everything had gone perfectly. He had even casually killed Stryker's son—a poor soul better off freed from his suffering. As for Professor X, he had simply knocked him out; he didn't want to test whether his Conqueror's Haki could withstand that level of psychic power.

Overall, their mission was quite fruitful, and they had looted everything worth taking.

"Brother Leon, what should we do with these two?" Sumarokov and Sergei asked as they threw two people onto the ground—a man wearing glasses, unconscious, and a woman who had barely survived Leon's powerful kick.

Though the woman had healed thanks to her self-regeneration abilities, she glared at the group with fierce eyes, yet made no move to attack.

Leon ignored the unconscious man and approached the woman, his gaze sharp and commanding, like an eagle's.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"M-my name is Yuriko Oyama... I don't remember much else," the woman replied, her cold arrogance now gone. Her eyes, once filled with anger, softened as she spoke in a low voice.

"She's one of Stryker's successful experiments," Natasha explained after checking the base's database. "She's been under drug control for a long time, which could explain her memory loss."

Leon nodded, but said nothing at first, lost in thought as he considered how to deal with Yuriko. Sensing that Leon was weighing his decision, Yuriko quickly spoke up.

"I want to follow you."

Her words took Leon and the others by surprise. He raised an eyebrow, studying her closely. Yuriko met his gaze with resolve.

"I've forgotten my past, and I don't want to die. I want to follow you... I can be your slave," she said firmly.

If it had been anyone else, Yuriko would have fled without hesitation. But Leon was different. She sensed his overwhelming power, and, knowing she couldn't escape, her choice was clear: she would surrender to him willingly.