Ding dong.
As if to verify Riddle's focused gaze, the doorbell rang.
Tom stopped fussing over his dog food and bolted to the door, his stance suggesting he was ready to bite whoever dared enter.
"Tom, move," John said calmly.
He opened the door.
A tall, thin figure stood with his back to him, leaning on a black umbrella.
"Look who it is," the person said, slowly turning around. "John Wick. You've returned without so much as a hello."
"I don't recall our agreement having a condition that I report my itinerary to you," John replied, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Right, Mycroft?"
"Indeed." Mycroft stood at the doorway. "Not inviting me in?"
"I wouldn't want to fall asleep like some unlucky fellow," John gestured to the house, all too familiar with its enchantments. "Entering without the host's invitation is quite impolite."
"I really wish more people understood that principle."
John stepped back. "Please, come in."
"I say the same to you," Mycroft said, walking into the Wick home. He glanced around, a hint of emotion in his voice. "This place is still the same."
"How is your father?"
"Whether he is well or not, you are even clearer on that than I am."
John smiled and snapped his fingers.
The teapot in the house appeared, hopping on its own as if it had legs. Two cups landed on the table with a soft clink.
"Aguamenti."
The teapot filled with hot water, tea leaves unfurling inside. Soon, the rich aroma of tea wafted through the room.
"Magic," Mycroft watched the scene and couldn't help but laugh. "How convenient."
"So is technology," John said without changing his expression. "If you want one, you can buy a coffee machine."
"That's not the same. Never mind, I won't discuss this with you." Mycroft didn't dwell on John's confounding of concepts. He stared at John and said, "When our countries established friendly relations, you once said that the Magic Kingdom was willing to lend a hand to Britain."
John had indeed said that.
The Mycroft before him was no simple man; he held a significant position in the British cabinet. At times, he even represented the entirety of Britain. Such a powerful figure was one of the smartest people in the world. In a sense, even Tony Stark was no match for this old fox.
When the Magic Kingdom was founded, it needed help from some powerful nations. At that time, John and Mycroft had made a friendly agreement. All magical incidents were to be resolved by wizards.
"Don't tell me you're planning to assassinate the President of America," John said, looking at Mycroft with a half-smile. "If so, I can only tell you there was an opportunity not long ago."
If Britain had such ambitions, it would be truly extraordinary.
Mycroft wasn't angry. He just took out the briefcase he was carrying, retrieved the documents inside, and asked casually, "You caused quite a stir in New York. Your going there first surprised me."
The document slid across the glass table and stopped in front of John.
John picked it up and opened it. "My family is there," he said simply.
What came into view was an investigation report. The location was a factory building.
John flipped through it.
Mycroft leaned back on the sofa, crossed his legs to reveal a section of black sock perfectly matched with his leather shoes and trousers, and lightly said, rubbing the handle of his umbrella, "But your parents aren't there."
John paused, then looked up at Mycroft. "You've always known where they are."
Mycroft nodded without reservation. "MI6 is more than capable of dealing with ordinary people. Your parents are very bold. Before my people arrived, your mother had already killed many people."
A strange glint flashed in Mycroft's eyes. "They should have been certain to die."
"Why do you say that?" John stared at Mycroft. This head of MI6 must know more.
Mycroft held up three fingers. "High Table, a mole, and Hydra."
John wasn't surprised by the first two.
The third one, however… he didn't expect Mycroft to know.
"You know about Hydra?" John asked, surprised.
Mycroft maintained his calm demeanor. "Britain was one of the witnesses to the Super Soldier program back then."
Britain and America had jointly developed the program, but America had taken the fruits of their labor. Still, when it came to fighting Hydra, Britain hadn't fallen behind.
"To kill your parents, Hydra deployed their most powerful weapon," Mycroft looked at John, his mouth opening and closing. "The Winter Soldier."
Winter Soldier.
John's pupils contracted. The incident where Ariana had been attacked also had the shadow of the Winter Soldier. His parents had encountered that man, too.
Killing intent surged from his heart. John narrowed his eyes, a dangerous expression on his face. "That guy is really annoying."
"Despite having sufficient firepower and combat capability, your parents attended the Monaco gathering without weapons and were surrounded." Mycroft, the head agent, was filled with surprise when he recounted this. "They came out unscathed from a situation where they were certain to die. Furthermore, the former Soviet intelligence organization, the Red Room, was also involved."
Four factions, plus the Extremis Soldiers, the Winter Soldier, and the Black Widow trained by the Red Room. The most elite forces in the world.
In such a situation, the battle was over before MI6 could even intervene.
"After escaping, they knew it wasn't safe, so MI6 relocated them."
After Mycroft finished speaking, John was terrifyingly silent. He rubbed the ring on his finger, his expression grim.
Hydra. That organization was truly annoying.
"Your parents didn't mention how they dealt with those people," Mycroft continued. "Even if you hadn't gone to New York, your father intended to resolve those matters. But since you took action, he just gave you a little help."
John thought of the Fisk transaction ledger Hattie had brought over. "Fisk was your doing?"
"Your father had already turned Wilson Fisk's capable assistant against him," Mycroft smiled. "He's always been like this, waiting for an opportunity to send someone directly to eternal damnation. It was the same with A.I.M. What he took was to make Killian lose his composure. It's a pity you couldn't use those arrangements."
"I really didn't know you knew so much," John sighed. As a son, he didn't know as much as Mycroft.
Mycroft tapped his forehead. "Being good at observation is enough."
John had finished reading the document by now. He raised the file. "Wouldn't it be better to hand this matter over to the Ministry of Magic?"
Even Nick Fury knew the procedure for entering the Ministry of Magic; there was no reason Mycroft wouldn't know.
Mycroft raised an eyebrow, lifting his chin to signal John to look at one of the pages. "The Ministry of Magic's Aurors are already investigating this matter," he said, leaning forward. "But this matter is stranger than magic."
He said seriously, "That person is missing."
John opened the photo of the old factory building. He read quickly, skimming through it.
"Disappeared?"
"Yes," Mycroft said. "We sealed off the area and didn't announce it to the public. It can be confirmed that some mysterious power is lurking there and has altered that space."
The truck in the photo was floating like a balloon.
After observing for a while, and then thinking of the Convergence, John's eyes darkened. "Have your people leave. I'll go take a look."
"But the appearance fee is also very expensive," John looked at Mycroft. This guy had come to ask for his help; he probably already had the terms ready.
"Of course," Mycroft smiled like a fox. "I think you'll be interested to know about the Super Hero plan." He smiled mysteriously. "However… I prefer to call it ,The Miracle Child."
After S.H.I.E.L.D. launched the Avengers, other countries were eager to act. As the country that first came into contact with wizards, Mycroft naturally had more options. After all, magic is another name for a miracle.
After the Avengers, a new superhero organization appeared. This would allow Britain to expand its international influence and deter other countries from acting recklessly.
However, the problem with this plan was whether the "Miracle Child" would be official or unofficial.
Presumably, Mycroft already had his own ideas.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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