Chapter 40: Creed - Redemption Through Killing

At dusk, on a bench by the Hudson River.

Black Widow Natasha glanced at the sunset, then at the watch on her wrist.

The shimmering river reflected a hint of red light onto her face, obscuring her expression.

Tap tap.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she checked her watch again.

"Hey, this red-haired beauty waiting for someone?"

"Oh, it looks like you're waiting for me!"

"Sorry I'm late, you know how bad the evening rush is!"

Natasha remained expressionless. "It's fine, you're only one hour, forty-eight minutes, and twenty-six seconds late!"

"Oh, that's just awful!"

Cohen sat beside her. "It's not my fault, really. There were dozens of agents around, I was a bit scared. If things went south, I had to find an escape route. Took a bit of time, hope you don't mind? Just like... I don't mind that guy with the bow aiming at me! Uh, are you sure he won't slip?"

Natasha took a deep breath. Within moments of meeting, he was throwing several challenges her way.

"Of course not, Barton is professional."

"Good to know."

Cohen relaxed on the bench, watching the sunset, humming a tune softly.

Natasha started reassessing the man next to her. He was more forceful than expected.

"Mr. Iron... Man, seems like you're familiar with us?"

Cohen turned to her, the sunset casting a golden glow on her face. At that moment, Natasha looked stunning, almost breathtaking.

It was easy to understand why someone would want to drink her bathwater.

But unfortunately, the name "Black Widow" already signified her danger.

Cohen didn't directly answer her question. Instead, he asked, "What's the name of your organization, again?"

Confused, Natasha answered, "Homeland Strategic Defense Attack and Logistics Bureau."

"I'll give you a new name—how about... S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"What?"

The answer took her completely by surprise.

Who just goes ahead and renames someone else's organization like that?

Frowning, she suddenly realized that in this conversation, she seemed to have lost the initiative.

Time to take it back!

But the next moment, Cohen's words left her no room to stay calm: "By the way, how about we go kill Dreykov and destroy his Red Room?"

Natasha's heart shook. This was exactly what she had been most concerned about. "He's already dead!"

"Where did he die?"

"Budapest!"

"Fake!"

Cohen looked directly into her eyes. "The bomb didn't kill him. But luckily, you managed to mentally kill his sweet little daughter. When she was dying, Dreykov implanted a chip into her, turning her into a living, breathing killing machine!"

Natasha froze, her body stiffening.

Cohen saw Natasha before him—the first high-level prey he'd encountered.

From his memories of the past, she was a qualified superhero. But she had come from the Red Room, and her hands were stained with blood.

So, should he kill her?

She had killed innocent people, but she had also saved them.

She had become a good person.

The Buddha said: "Put down the butcher knife and become a Buddha."

That was nonsense.

What Cohen believed in was using evil to counter evil. Only when bad people died would they no longer cause harm.

Killing them was like indirectly saving many others.

But now, killing Natasha might mean he couldn't replace her role. That could mean the people she could save would die.

Cohen didn't know the exact standards the system used to evaluate prey. But he was not a pawn of the system.

Whether to kill or spare—he was the final decision-maker!

Such a beauty, it would be a shame to kill her.

He suddenly remembered something he often saw in the system, a certain phrase.

"Natasha, tell me, if someone has committed a great sin, what should they do to achieve redemption?"

Natasha looked up, dazed. "I..."

"I'll tell you," Cohen said, smiling, "Killing! Only by killing the wicked can you achieve redemption!"

"You're talking nonsense!"

Suddenly, a loud voice shouted from behind Cohen!

He wasn't angry. He smiled and said, "Mr. Barton, nice to meet you. I've been curious about your archery skills for a while. Too bad you haven't shot me after all those times aiming at me. I wanted to see if I could dodge."

Hawkeye didn't pay him any attention.

He was more concerned about Natasha, who was feeling guilt. Furious, he asked, "What evidence do you have for what you said? What's your scheme?"

Cohen helplessly raised his hands. Barton wasn't classified as prey by the system. It seemed he was just an ordinary agent with a conscience.

"Mr. Barton, what kind of scheme could I have? Didn't your S.H.I.E.L.D. invite me here?"

Barton rolled his eyes. "We're called the Homeland Strategic Defense Attack and Logistics Bureau, not some ridiculous S.H.I.E.L.D.!"

Cohen laughed. "Hehe, seems like what you're saying doesn't have much weight?"

Barton gritted his teeth. "If Fury ever listens to you and changes the name, I'll quit the Homeland Strategic Defense Attack and Logistics Bureau!"

Cohen raised an eyebrow. "You're so confident. What's your name, Hawkeye? Let me rename you—how about Mr. Confident?"

Hawkeye shot him a glare, then quickly walked over to Natasha and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Natasha, it wasn't your fault! That plan was something we did together, and even if this guy is telling the truth, I share half the responsibility!"

Natasha looked at him with sorrowful eyes and shook her head. "No, the plan was mine. I placed the bomb. You were just a witness. It has nothing to do with you."

"I should bear all the responsibility!"

"Then this guy is lying!"

Natasha shook her head. Earlier, Cohen had been close to her. His breath, his eyes, told her he wasn't lying.

She looked at Cohen, and he gazed back at her. "Natasha, I'd rather you let Hawkeye share half the responsibility."

Natasha took a deep breath. "How bad is the situation?"

"Dreykov trained... over a thousand Black Widows!"

Natasha froze, and after a long pause, she muttered, "If I had killed him back then, none of this would have happened, right?"

Cohen shook his head, sighing. Of course, this wasn't entirely Natasha's fault. But because S.H.I.E.L.D. had believed her report and assumed Dreykov was dead, the Red Room had been able to thrive and grow rapidly.

She bore an undeniable responsibility.

"Over a thousand professional female assassins. How many corpses must have piled up to train them? How much blood must be on their hands?"

"This is why I tell you, only by killing can you achieve redemption!"

Natasha remained silent, seemingly deep in thought.

Hawkeye Barton, standing by, was anxious. He wanted to comfort Natasha, but he didn't know what to say.

He understood her, her past, her character. So, instead, he focused on Cohen: "You've said so much, but what's your real goal?"

Cohen smiled. "Goal? Why do I need a goal? Isn't this what a righteous hero should do?"

Barton paused. "Righteous? You've killed a lot of people in Hell's Kitchen! Not only are you a poisoner, a murderer, but also a torturer! Hey, Buffalo Bill!"

Someone knows who Mr. Confident is?

(End of chapter)