MARVEL : A myriad of personalities

For a moment, the control tower was plunged into an eerie silence.

Everyone present—even Weaver, who wasn't a combat operative—had received professional military training. It was rare for any of them to be completely clueless in this domain.

But after watching the footage Vincent had retrieved, they all quickly understood what had happened.

And it was precisely because they understood that it felt all the more unbelievable.

No matter how they looked at it, they couldn't figure out how Ray had managed to hit Leonid behind cover—let alone with a headshot. It was simply absurd.

The distance between the two wasn't extreme, but it certainly wasn't close either—at least two or three hundred metres. That was already beyond the effective range of a handgun.

At that range, bullets could easily veer off their intended path.

Even without cover, none of them could confidently say they'd be able to land a hit on Leonid from there. Let alone thread a bullet through an obstacle and hit him square in the head.

Faced with something so irrational, all they could do was fall silent.

"Let's just keep watching," Vincent said, switching the screen back to split view while staying at the controls.

Even Vincent, who had the benefit of replay footage, hadn't figured out what had just happened. So it was even less likely that Leonid, who was at the heart of it all, had any idea.

The only thing he could recall was that sudden force pressing down on his head.

Right after that, the speaker had blared out the announcement that he had been "eliminated," and the first round had been ruled a loss for him. That spoke volumes.

"I was taken out by a headshot?" Leonid was thoroughly baffled.

He didn't know where Ray had fired from, and no matter how he racked his brain, he couldn't figure out how he could have been shot on the crown of the head from his previous position.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on it—the second round was about to begin.

This time, the roles would be reversed.

"I can't afford to underestimate him again. I have to win this one," Leonid told himself.

He really had no more room for mistakes.

Even though Ray had initially proposed that a single loss would be enough to concede the match, Leonid had insisted on a best-of-three format.

Which meant that if he lost again now, the match would be over. Winning the third round wouldn't matter anymore.

Soon, both men swapped sides under the direction of the staff.

Once the weapons room had been reset, the second round began.

Viewers watching the split-screen feed saw that things started out much like the first round. Leonid dashed to the weapons room at full speed and began picking through the parts.

Ray, on the other hand, once again strolled over at a leisurely pace, with no sign of urgency.

But unlike in the first round, no one thought he was throwing the match this time.

Pretending to be strong when you're not makes you a fool—but being calm when you're genuinely powerful? That's impressive. And Ray had proved his strength.

No one yet understood how he'd managed to "eliminate" Leonid through cover, but the results spoke for themselves. There was no arguing with that.

Before long, Leonid had completed assembling his weapon—this time, it wasn't the scout rifle, but a submachine gun.

The scout rifle's characteristics made it ideal for defending fixed positions, but it was ill-suited for advancing or attacking.

Now that he was the attacker, he had to adapt his choice accordingly.

Ray, by contrast, made the same selection as before: he calmly assembled another Desert Eagle.

And, just like last time, he left the weapons room precisely at the last second.

"Does Dr Ray only know how to build one gun?" Claude asked with a strange expression as he watched from the control tower.

Vincent shot him a look. "Have you figured out how Agent Leonid died in the first round yet?"

"…"

That single question was enough to shut Claude up.

Vincent's implication was clear: if you can't even understand how the man attacked, what gives you the right to question his choice of weapon?

And there was no way to argue with that—Claude had spent ages thinking it over and still had no clue.

A little embarrassed, he tried to change the subject by pointing at the central screen. "I wonder if Leonid will manage to turn the tide. Look—he's already closing in on the high ground. If he gets close enough, his SMG will completely outgun that pistol—"

"Agent Leonid has been eliminated. Second round: victory to Dr Ray!"

The loudspeaker's sudden announcement cut him off mid-sentence.

The entire control tower fell dead silent once more.

What had just happened?

Everyone had been watching both video feeds with rapt attention. Leonid clearly looked better prepared, methodically closing in on the target.

Ray, on the other hand, seemed to be on a casual stroll. When he reached the high ground, he only took a brief moment to survey the layout before lounging back in apparent idleness.

He hadn't tinkered with any of the high-tech tools, nor made any aggressive moves.

And yet… he'd won again?

At that moment, it wasn't just Claude who was struck speechless.

Everyone watching the match was plunged into stunned silence.

Vincent, without saying a word, once again pulled up footage from thirty seconds earlier. This time, he divided the central screen into four camera angles—each capturing Ray from a different perspective.

Sure enough, as the replay ran, they saw it again: Ray casually flicked the arm holding his gun, just like in the first round.

Immediately afterward, the loudspeaker declared Leonid defeated.

Two eliminations. Identical actions. Identical outcome.

No one was calling it a coincidence anymore. Something that unbelievable doesn't happen twice in such a short span of time unless it's intentional.

Which meant that Ray—whom many had assumed was a reckless fool for challenging Leonid—was in fact a hidden master.

Just those two shots alone were enough to place him on par with, if not above, the top operatives in S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Agent Weaver, you knew all along that Dr Ray was a monster, didn't you? You let us make fools of ourselves," Claude said with a wry smile.

"What if I told you I didn't know either?" Weaver replied, just as stunned as he was.