Under normal circumstances, Wanda would never call Pietro "brother." The word almost never crossed her lips, especially not in such a dramatic tone. But now she clutched him desperately, shouting again and again with tears streaming down her face. "Brother! Pietro! As long as you don't die, I swear I'll call you brother from now on!"
"Re… really? Wanda?" Pietro asked weakly, his voice barely above a whisper as if every syllable required enormous effort.
"Really, brother," Wanda replied immediately, nodding frantically as if she feared the promise might vanish if she hesitated even a second.
Then, in the very next moment, Wanda froze in stunned disbelief. The brother who had looked like he was about to die only seconds earlier suddenly sprang upright as if nothing had happened.
Pietro leaped to his feet with a triumphant grin and pointed a finger at her like a victorious negotiator closing a deal. "You said it yourself, Wanda! From now on you're calling me brother. Don't even think about backing out."
Wanda stared at him in utter confusion, her eyes sweeping across his body from head to toe. Aside from the dried blood on his clothes, there wasn't a single wound left anywhere.
For a brief moment her expression softened with relief, but the relief quickly turned into dark suspicion. Her brows knitted together as the realization hit her.
"Pietro!!" she exploded, her voice rising several octaves. "When you made me promise to call you brother, Chu had already healed you, didn't he?!"
Pietro's smug expression faltered for a second when his scheme was exposed so cleanly. Still, he refused to surrender.
"That's not true," he insisted stubbornly, trying to maintain his dignity. "I'll only fully recover after you call me brother a few more times."
"I don't believe you!" Wanda shouted angrily, practically roaring at him. "You lied to me first, so everything I said earlier doesn't count!"
The siblings looked seconds away from launching into another loud argument, and watching them made Ethan Blake feel a dull headache forming behind his temples. Their bickering could probably outlast a war if nobody intervened.
"Alright, enough," Ethan said, raising a hand to cut them off before the argument could escalate further. "Save the fighting for later. Tell me exactly what happened today."
As soon as the topic shifted to serious business, the two immediately quieted down. Their childish quarrel vanished almost instantly, replaced by focused expressions.
Pietro spoke first. "On our way home earlier, several cars suddenly boxed us in. Then about a dozen guys got out and surrounded us."
He paused briefly, remembering the moment. "They said they were friends of yours and told Wanda and me to go with them. I told them we'd call you first to confirm, but they tried to grab my phone."
His tone darkened as he continued. "That's when Wanda and I realized something was wrong and resisted. Then they pulled out guns. I took a bullet while shielding Wanda, and after that I grabbed her and ran all the way back here."
After hearing the full explanation, Ethan fell into silent contemplation.
Wanda and Pietro were only high school students in the eyes of the world. Ethan had always strictly forbidden them from using their powers anywhere except at home, so there was almost no chance they had offended anyone or attracted attention from some secret organization.
That meant the real target behind the attack was almost certainly him.
The fact that those people hadn't approached him directly revealed something else as well. Whoever was behind this clearly knew a little about him. They understood that confronting him head-on would likely end badly, so instead they attempted to capture Wanda and Pietro to use them as leverage.
Unfortunately for them, they had miscalculated one crucial detail.
Both of the teenagers they targeted possessed powers of their own.
A cold glint flashed through Ethan's eyes as the conclusion settled in his mind. Whether those people meant harm toward him or toward Wanda and Pietro, the result would be the same.
Whoever they were, they no longer deserved to remain in this world.
As for whether their souls went to heaven or hell afterward, that was God's decision. Ethan's job was simply to send them to meet Him.
He picked up his phone and dialed Wilson Fisk.
Since the incident occurred in New York, Ethan trusted that Fisk had the network and resources to uncover who was responsible.
The call connected quickly.
"Chu—" Fisk began before correcting himself slightly. "Ethan. What's going on?"
"Wilson, Wanda and Pietro were attacked just now," Ethan said calmly. "Pietro almost died."
The atmosphere on the other end of the line instantly turned serious. "Where?"
"Right here in New York."
"Is Pietro alright?" Fisk asked, his voice heavy.
"He's fine now," Ethan replied. "But if I'd found out a few minutes later, you might have been attending his funeral."
Fisk fell silent for a few seconds after hearing that.
He understood perfectly well how important Wanda and Pietro were to Ethan, just as Vanessa and Richard were everything to him. And the attack had happened in New York, the city he considered his territory.
"Ethan," Fisk finally said, his tone firm, "I'll give you an explanation for this."
"No," Ethan replied immediately, rejecting the offer. "These people weren't targeting you. They were targeting me."
He paused briefly before continuing. "Wilson, help me figure out who they are. I'll personally send them out of this world."
"Give me ten minutes," Fisk said without hesitation before hanging up.
Pietro leaned forward eagerly as soon as the call ended. "Ethan, you're going after them, right?"
"What else?" Ethan replied dryly. "Keep them around for the holidays?"
"I'm coming with you," Pietro said immediately, excitement practically radiating off him.
"I'm going too," Wanda added without hesitation.
For a moment Ethan stared at the two of them as if he'd just heard the most ridiculous proposal imaginable. Then his eyes widened in disbelief.
"You two?" he said sharply. "Are you trying to die?"
He pointed at Pietro with visible frustration. "What have I been teaching you all this time? If you're in danger, you run first."
Then he pointed at Wanda. "With Pietro's speed, the moment those idiots pulled their guns he could've taken you and escaped instantly. Or you could've fought back properly. Wanda disrupts their minds, Pietro eliminates them in seconds."
He spread his hands in exasperation. "And what actually happened? You didn't take out a single one of them, and Pietro nearly got himself killed. Tell me how that makes any sense."
Both siblings lowered their heads like scolded children, not daring to argue back.
Just then Ethan's phone rang again.
It was Fisk.
"Wilson," Ethan answered immediately. "Who did it?"
"The Black Fire Gang in Queens," Fisk said. "Their base is on Field Street, Block 17. There are no civilians there—everyone in that block works for them. They're heavily armed, which makes them troublesome."
He added thoughtfully, "But they're strange. They never expand their territory and never interfere with anyone else's business. Because of that, I've never bothered dealing with them."
They don't expand their territory. They don't compete for business.
Hearing that description made Ethan's eyes narrow slightly.
A criminal group operating without ambition? That was unusual.
Unless their purpose wasn't ordinary crime.
Interesting. Ethan could almost smell a conspiracy hiding underneath.
"Thanks, Wilson," he said.
"Do you need help?" Fisk asked.
Ethan gave a faint smile. "It's just a group of clowns."
After hanging up, Ethan turned toward Wanda and Pietro and firmly ordered them to stay home. Before either of them could protest, his figure vanished from the room.
In the next instant, he appeared in the middle of Field Street's seventeenth block.
The moment Ethan materialized, a dark-skinned man nearby noticed him. The man immediately pulled a pistol from his waist, pointing it directly at Ethan with a cocky grin.
"Hey," the man said arrogantly. "Drop anything valuable and get lost the way you came. This is Black Fire territory."
Ethan looked around slowly, then smiled faintly.
"Then I guess I came to the right place."
The man frowned, clearly confused. "What do you mean by that? Get over here—"
Before he could finish speaking, a small hole suddenly appeared between his eyebrows. The bullet passed cleanly through his skull, dropping him instantly to the ground.
"0.2 percent energy," Ethan murmured calmly, glancing at the body. "Looks like today's going to be a productive day."
With that, he stepped forward and walked deeper into the block.
....
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