Marvelous Mutations

Luke Yale was, without a doubt, a strange breed of businessman.

Who else would drag his little sister into helping three mangled gangsters crawl-shop their way through a store?

But that's exactly what he did.

Together, Luke and Wanda darted between shelves, picking up items based on each man's barely-whispered requests. Their tattered bodies couldn't move much, some could barely lift a finger, but they could point. And Luke honored every gesture.

This act of selfless retail touched the bloodied trio deeply.

If their bones weren't cracked in half, they might have dropped to their knees and kowtowed in gratitude.

The rest of the gang, meanwhile, was surprisingly absorbed in shopping.

Some were inspecting labels, others were quietly debating choices with their comrades like seasoned collectors at a flea market.

The vibe in the store was... harmonious.

Laughter and murmured conversation filled the air, echoing off neatly stacked shelves.

It was downright wholesome.

Except for one thing.

At the front of the store, the Lucky Cat perched quietly by the register. Its paw continued its tireless beckoning. But now, faint red lights pulsed in its glassy eyes, slow, hypnotic, and unnatural.

Strangely, no one else seemed to notice.

Only Luke and Wanda saw the crimson flicker, but they were far too busy helping their customers to do anything about it.

…

Just then, the door swung open.

Two figures entered, one man, one woman.

The man wore a sharp black suit, dark sunglasses obscuring his eyes. The woman strode in beside him, clad in a skintight tactical outfit that left no doubt about her physical fitness.

Behind them trotted a familiar husky, tail wagging furiously.

Natasha Romanoff and Phil Coulson had returned from their mission.

And they'd brought Doggo back.

But the moment they stepped inside, both agents froze.

Their eyes dropped to the floor.

Three thick blood trails led from the entrance to various shelves, like the paths of fallen warriors in a battlefield.

At the end of each trail lay a man in brutal condition.

One had both arms and a leg shattered, another had blood matting his hair and a leg twisted unnaturally, and the last... the last had both legs broken, bones exposed in gleaming white against crimson.

But despite their conditions, they were all smiling.

Actually smiling.

Laid out before each of them were humble grocery items. Chips. Instant noodles. Soda.

Their eyes sparkled as they gazed upon these treasures like sacred relics. Some even drooled.

The rest of the store wasn't any less bizarre.

A dozen burly gangsters were browsing like suburban dads at a Sunday market. They examined packages, debated over brands, and shopped with the same intensity a sniper might show when choosing a target.

It was peaceful. Calm. Almost cheerful.

But to seasoned agents like Natasha and Coulson, the scene wasn't heartwarming, it was chilling.

The gangsters' synchronized smiles. The glazed look in their eyes.

To them, it didn't look like peace. It looked like puppets dancing on invisible strings.

Both agents felt a cold tingle slide down their spines.

Thank God it was daytime.

If they'd walked in at night, even they, battle-hardened, unflinching professionals, might've lost their nerve.

To them, dealing with murderous criminals was just another Tuesday.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

And in the middle of it all, as if oblivious to the chaos, was Doggo.

The husky paid the blood and madness no mind.

The moment he saw Luke, his tail went berserk. He galloped through the maze of shoppers like a missile and slammed into Luke's leg, nuzzling him with eager affection.

But Luke, hunched over with an armful of customer requests, barely glanced at him.

He gave Doggo a gentle nudge with his foot and muttered, "Go away. Can't you see I'm busy helping customers?"

Priorities, you know?

Doggo blinked in confusion.

But a moment later, he shook it off and bounded to Wanda's side, but unfortunately, she didn't even look at him.

Too focused on a can of soup and a man who could only gurgle and nod in response to her questions.

Undeterred, Doggo flopped to the floor, rolled onto his back, flailed his paws dramatically... and proceeded to be completely ignored.

Finally, with a quiet little huff of defeat, he trotted to the front of the store.

There, beside the flickering-eyed Lucky Cat, he found solace.

Using Luke's abandoned gaming chair as a stepping stool, Doggo climbed up beside the beckoning figurine.

He sat down next to it.

Watched its paw wave.

Then, after a moment, he raised his own paw...

...and started waving too.

…

A few minutes passed before Luke emerged from behind a shelf, brushing dust off his hands.

He finally noticed the newcomers and his face lit up.

Without missing a beat, he pulled out a pair of glasses from his jacket, slipped them on, and strode confidently toward the agents like a CEO greeting shareholders.

He extended a hand toward Natasha.

"Congratulations," he said, flashing his most charming smile. "Looks like your mission was a success, thanks to my help, of course."

He didn't blink.

Didn't miss a beat.

Didn't even bother to acknowledge the broken bodies and mind-controlled criminals lining the floor.

Because, above all else, Luke was a businessman.

And today's business was good.

…