Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

"Boss, there's trouble!" An agent burst into the office, shouting at Natasha, "The head of Wayne Enterprises' Information Security Department was found dead in his suburban villa. GCPD is at a loss. They called for FBI support, but the FBI is blaming it on the capture incident three days ago."

"Are you saying they think our people silenced him?" Natasha squinted and said, "They wouldn't be unaware that the President was also present, right? Wait... of course they know. They're doing it on purpose."

Natasha immediately waved her hand and said, "Field team, with me!"

A group of agents quickly rushed to the underground parking lot. Soon, a few inconspicuous black cars sped out from the parking lot, racing towards the crime scene.

The night sky was lit up by the lights of police cars and ambulances. The orange-red caution tape was battered to the ground by a recently stopped rain. Beyond layers of vehicles, Natasha saw an orange comfort blanket draped over a little girl. From a report by her subordinate in the car, Natasha knew this was the daughter of the deceased.

As she approached the caution tape, two policemen wearing jackets with huge bright yellow "FBI" letters walked over. Natasha flashed her credentials at them and crossed the caution tape without a word, striding inside.

As she walked, she thought to herself: She knew this job wasn't so simple. If it was just to hold off the superheroes, there was no need to call her.

The President's power is the sharpest knife in Arkham Batman's hands, and whoever it's aimed at cannot remain indifferent. Even Superman is no exception. They have a longing for mundane life and can only bind their own hands, trapped by Batman.

This kind of job didn't need Black Widow; any experienced agent could handle it. And among the specially assembled task force, these kinds of people were abundant. Any one of them could complete the task perfectly.

Arkham Batman crossing the cosmos to find Natasha means there were some tasks only she could do.

Natasha heightened her awareness to the maximum. She equipped the "Widow's Bite," holding her gun in both hands, arms pressed tightly against her body as she sidled up to the house.

There were a few policemen standing at the door. They didn't recognize Natasha but recognized the professional agent gear she wore. They thought she was with the FBI and didn't stop her from going inside.

Natasha walked into the house and saw some blood stains on the carpet on the first floor. Looking up, there were also blood stains on the stairs beside her. It appeared the victim was attacked upstairs, stumbled down to the first floor, and was then stabbed to death on the carpet.

She heard intermittent sobbing coming from a bedroom on the first floor. Frowning slightly, she quickly walked over.

A few FBI agents were surrounding a crying woman. The woman looked utterly distraught, trembling on the ground, unable to move. Nearby, a doctor could only helplessly wait there until her emotions calmed down a bit to take her out.

"So unprofessional!" Natasha scolded.

"Get in here!" she shouted to her subordinates waiting outside the door, "Take this woman out, make sure she's on the ambulance before you leave!"

The agents under Natasha rushed in. They pushed open the bedroom door and reached out to pull the woman. A young doctor beside them shouted, "Wait! She's emotionally unstable right now, you can't..."

"This is a crime scene, not a hospital. All unrelated personnel must leave immediately!" Natasha yelled at him, then turned her ire on the FBI agents, "Did your training go to the dogs?!"

"There are reporters outside," the leading one said, "If she leaves while collapsed and crying, it'll be front-page news the next day."

"The dead person is a Wayne Enterprises executive. Whatever anyone here acts like, this story will definitely be the headline. Take her away!"

Natasha stepped back two steps, letting her subordinates escort the woman out. But just as they were dragging her over the door frame, she suddenly drew a gun from beneath her skirt.

Bang! Bang bang!

Natasha quickly rolled to evade the first shot but took a hit in the calf from the second. She seemed unfazed, braced her body, dropped to one knee, and raised her gun with both hands.

Bang!

A shot hit the woman's chest, knocking her down. Agents rushed over to restrain her. Natasha stood, directly inserting her fingers into the wound in her calf, dug out the bullet, and tossed it aside, as casually as taking off a high heel.

The FBI agents in the room looked grim.

Natasha paid no mind to her wound, briskly walked out of the room, watching the woman being pushed into a police car, her expression darker than the rainy night.

Soon, several more police cars arrived. Natasha saw Shiller also wearing a standard jacket, though he hadn't zipped it. He stood in front of the caution tape, chatting with local police officers, flicking the slightly long hem of his coat behind him, one hand in his pants pocket, and a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand.

Then he crossed the police line, walked over to the ambulance, said a few words to the driver, and spoke a few words with the doctor, finally coming to the little girl.

Natasha saw him sit down next to the little girl. They chatted for a while, Shiller helped the girl adjust her comfort blanket, and then he walked towards the house, his steps light, his expression calm, as if he were strolling through his own garden.

It seemed he didn't expect to see Natasha here, Shiller paused in his steps. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. Shiller tilted his head back and drank the rest of the coffee from his cup, crushing the cup and casually tossing it into the nearby trash bin.

"This doesn't seem to be within the CIA's work scope, does it?" Shiller said.

"Yes, if someone wasn't trying to frame us, I wouldn't be here," Natasha replied.

Shiller's nose twitched, then he looked Natasha up and down, saying, "You're hurt? How did investigating a murder get you injured?"

"If you had come a bit later, my wound would have healed," Natasha extended a leg, still stained with blood on her pants, but the wound underneath was nearly healed.

"Who fired the shot? The murderer?"

"Could be the victim's family, or the murderer, I'm not sure," Natasha said, "But what I can be sure of is, it was aimed at me."

"That's strange, you've only been here a few days," Shiller said, "A murder happens, blamed on you, tricking you here, then a shot fired at you. Seems the killer really wants you dead."

"I just regret, I shouldn't have so easily accepted Batman's invitation," Natasha leaned against the door and said, "I knew nothing good would come of him asking me to come."

"But this trouble came way too fast." Shiller also turned around, leaning against the house with Natasha, staring at the policemen and agents coming and going in front of them.

"Wayne Enterprises' Information Security Department..." Shiller gently repeated the victim's data, he said, "If someone wanted to frame you for silencing, this person is a good choice. Mid-level in rank, yet quite important, and very easy to access some secret information."

"That's the crucial point," Natasha said, "Three days after the capture, the head of Wayne Enterprises' Information Security Department was killed. No matter how you look at it, it seems like we're silencing. And our capture was directed by the President; they want to drag the President down. They want others to think it was the President ordering the silencing, so they staged a cover-up capture."

"This is a pretty good plan," Shiller said, "Because you can't announce publicly who you're capturing. It remains a secret capture. Others don't know the stakes, naturally thinking it's a cleanup initiated by the President within Wayne Enterprises."

"If I'm not mistaken, this won't be the only victim," Shiller glanced back at the house and said, "Two more deaths could not only disrupt Wayne Enterprises but also lay the blame on the President. Killing two birds with one stone. But the only thing I don't understand is, why did someone shoot at you?"

"I'm pondering that question too," Natasha looked at the ground and said, "No matter how important a role I play in Batman's plan, I've only been here a few days. I'm very sure no one could find any information about me. I just look like a gun Batman hired. Normal people wouldn't bother with an agent who can be easily replaced if killed. Unless..."

"Unless they know you're different," Shiller tapped the ground with his toe and said, "Unless they know that besides being an agent of the airborne special team, you're also the President's lover."

"But Batman and I aren't even in this cosmos..." Natasha stopped abruptly mid-sentence. She raised her eyes abruptly and said, "Green Arrow Oliver Quinn. Only he knows my relationship with Batman."

"Those kids in the office all think I'm trying to date you. I've never revealed anything in front of Superman and Wonder Woman. Only Green Arrow, when he was taken to Wayne Enterprises to talk with Batman, did I tell him that I've slept with Batman."

"But why would he aim to assassinate you because of your intimate relationship with Batman? Does he also fancy Batman?"

Natasha furrowed her brows deeply, then slowly shook her head and said, "Green Arrow doesn't seem like the kind of person to engage in assassinations. I need to ask him."

Natasha strode towards her car. Shiller followed closely, saying, "Let me drive."

Natasha knew she had a lot on her mind, possibly unable to concentrate on driving, so she didn't refuse, sitting in the passenger seat. She soon sunk into deep thought, until a sudden brake made her knee bump.

Natasha turned to look at Shiller but suddenly heard a gunshot from outside the car window. She instinctively ducked under the seat, turning towards the direction of the gunshot. A man in a hood quickly dashed into the alley.

Shiller had already left the driver's seat. He fired two shots in that direction, but because the other party escaped so swiftly without engagement, he didn't hit him. He got back into the driver's seat.

"It seems someone is indeed targeting you," Shiller said, "But it doesn't look like Oliver Quinn. With his resources, he could hire better assassins. These two who attacked you are too amateur."

Natasha also looked out the car window. The attacker quickly dodged into the narrow lane, there was a puddle at the intersection. If she wasn't mistaken, the person had stepped into it. This means footprints would definitely be left in the alley.

Natasha pressed her earpiece, instructing her subordinates to investigate. When the car returned to the base, she was the first to get out, striding quickly to the interrogation room. Meanwhile, Shiller returned to his office. He turned on the computer, the screen's light reflecting once again on his face.