The next day.
At the Assassin's League base—
Inside a large conference room, Michael led the werewolf clan, all kneeling on one knee as they pledged their loyalty to the man seated atop the high platform.
"I, Michael, chieftain of the werewolf clan, under the witness of the Assassin's League, swear my allegiance to Smith Dole. I shall serve you forever."
"I, John North of the werewolf clan, under the witness of the Assassin's League, swear my allegiance to Smith Dole. I shall serve you forever."
"…"
One after another, every werewolf present pledged their loyalty to Smith Dole, and then signed their names in blood on a parchment scroll—pressing their fingerprints beneath the oath.
Fox picked up the contract parchment and handed it to Smith Dole.
Looking down at the parchment representing their loyalty, Smith addressed the werewolves below:
"I accept your loyalty."
"From this day forward, the werewolf clan will serve as the gatekeepers of the Assassin's League and will be under our protection."
Hearing Smith's declaration, smiles broke out across the faces of the werewolves.
At his signal, all of them stood up.
"Gunsmith, Alchemist," Smith called.
"The training for this batch of werewolves is your responsibility."
"Make sure they understand the mission and operational code of the Assassin's League."
"Once they've passed evaluation, dispatch them to the Assassin Brotherhood. Assign one werewolf to each Brotherhood hotel, responsible for security and handling special incidents."
The Gunsmith and Alchemist bowed and replied,
"Yes, Leader."
…
Meanwhile—
At S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, inside the Triskelion.
Coulson hurried into Nick Fury's office, holding fresh intel.
"Director, based on reports from our agents around the Assassin's League, a large group entered their headquarters this morning. Most of them had power levels between 12 and 15, and one was measured at 30."
The word "large group" made Fury tense up.
"How many are we talking about, exactly?"
"Exactly one hundred, sir," Coulson reported.
Michael's group had been scanned by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stationed outside the base as they entered, and the results had stunned them.
A hundred individuals with power levels exceeding the human norm was staggering. Even though many were just around 12 or 15, normal human limits topped out at 8. And there was a 30-point powerhouse among them.
Fury knew full well—S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't field even 100 people above level 8.
"Who are they? Members of the Assassin's League we know?" he asked.
Coulson shook his head.
"No, according to our intel, they were brought in from London by the League."
"We've confirmed both their departure from London and their entry into the U.S. The documents and identities were all cleared by London's authorities—nothing suspicious on paper."
"But for so many 'transcendents' to be allowed out like that? It doesn't add up."
What they didn't know was that Alexander Corvinus had arranged the identities of the werewolves himself—everything was airtight on the surface.
Fury thought for a moment, then asked,
"Are they some kind of special race?"
One hundred transcendents? Could they be aliens?
Coulson replied,
"So far, there's nothing unusual. They all appear to be regular white males from London."
That last bit made Fury's face darken.
"White? That's funny—England's got way more Black brothers than that. Is this more of Smith Dole's subtle discrimination again?"
He knocked his knuckles on the desk, then added,
"Reach out to the London division head. See if they know anything."
"Also, activate the deep-cover agents inside the League. Find out who these people really are. Are they new members? If not, why are they there?"
Coulson nodded, already taking mental notes.
"What about the Dragon Balls?" Fury asked.
Coulson gave his report:
"Based on tapped calls, online keyword searches, and dark web chatter, we've confirmed that several factions are collecting Dragon Balls."
"The price per ball has shot up to 10 million USD. Now, underground groups and assassins everywhere are hunting for them."
"However, no one has publicly admitted to owning one."
"Compared to the last time when John Wick had one openly, this time everyone's keeping things very quiet."
"We're still tracking developments."
Fury nodded.
"Keep at it. And get more info on Smith Dole."
"If the mole's not making progress, you go talk to him yourself. He is part of the Avengers, after all."
Coulson looked at Fury and paused.
So now that Smith was invoking his oversight authority, suddenly the Avengers Initiative hasn't launched yet? And now you're calling him an Avenger again—just to justify probing him?
These kinds of shameless gymnastics were exactly what made Coulson hate bureaucracy. But still—orders were orders.
"Yes, Director."
Though annoyed, Coulson accepted reality. He just hoped Smith Dole wouldn't make it too awkward for him.
…
Elsewhere—
Bruce Banner woke up at Betty's place. Thanks to her status, he now had access to university lab equipment. That meant he could run tests on his Dragon Ball.
He already had a tournament ticket, but as a scientist, Bruce wanted to verify the thing himself. If he could identify the Dragon Ball's frequency signature, it might help track more of them down—even if he lost this round.
The two of them headed to campus, where the halls were quiet.
Seeing Bruce scanning his surroundings constantly, Betty asked,
"You okay?"
He glanced around again.
"Should be."
As they headed into the building, Betty noticed Bruce tucking his shirt neatly into his pants.
"Let me help," she offered.
Bruce didn't resist. He let her straighten his shirt, enjoying the rare moment of calm between them.
…
(End of Chapter)
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