Manhattan at night, like a spread-out piece of black velvet, adorned with countless Diamonds.
A private cigar club in the city center, not open to the public, was booked by Lynt.
The rich aroma of Cuban cigars mixed with the scent of old leather sofas fermented in the air.
A scent belonging to money and power.
Natasha Romanoff pushed the door open.
She had changed out of her tight evening gown, wearing a simple black leather jacket and jeans.
She had shed some of the deliberate sexiness, gaining more of an Agent's competence and danger.
She entered the unfamiliar territory like an elegant and wary black cat.
Her gaze immediately locked onto the Master of the room.
Lynt was sitting in front of the fireplace, swirling a glass of amber whiskey in his hand.
He did not turn around, as if he had eyes on the back of his head.
"Agent Romanoff, you are seven minutes later than I expected."
His voice was calm, with a hint of lazy teasing.
"It seems S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal reporting process is more complicated than I imagined."
Natasha's heart sank sharply.
The other party even knew her recent whereabouts like the back of his hand.
This feeling of being seen through made her uncomfortable.
"Mr. Lin, I think there's some misunderstanding between us."
Natasha walked to the sofa opposite him and sat down, crossing her legs, adopting a posture that was both relaxed and ready to spring into action at any moment.
"I am just an ordinary person who is a little curious about your company's business."
"Ordinary person?"
Lynt finally turned around, a playful smile on his lips.
He openly scrutinized Natasha, his gaze not like that of someone looking at a beautiful woman, but more like an experienced hunter examining his prey.
"Able to dislocate the jaws of three Albanian gang members with one hand, fluent in eight languages, and moving through Stark Industries' security system as if no one was there."
He paused, taking a small sip of his drink.
"If that counts as an ordinary person, then the World's standards are truly high."
Natasha's expression finally changed.
These were not public records; they were the deepest secrets in her resume.
Who exactly was the man in front of her?
And what kind of power stood behind him?
"You investigated me."
This was not a question, but a statement.
"No, I didn't."
Lynt shook his head, putting down his glass.
"I just... knew."
He stood up and slowly walked in front of Natasha.
A faint scent, a mixture of alcohol and some strange aroma, enveloped her.
Natasha's muscles instantly tensed, every cell in her body screaming danger.
But she didn't move.
Her intuition told her that any rash action could lead to unpredictable consequences.
"Your resume is quite impressive, Agent Romanoff."
Lynt looked down at her, his eyes deep.
"Red Room, 'graduation ceremony', Budapest... your hands are stained with red, aren't they?"
"Those 'debts' that keep you awake at night, don't you want to wipe them clean?"
Boom.
Natasha's brain felt like it had been detonated by a bomb.
The Red Room was the deepest nightmare of her soul.
The debts were the original sin that Nick Fury could only promise, but not truly help her erase.
This man had spoken of them so casually.
What exactly did he want to do?
"Apex Amplification Company."
Lynt's voice carried a mesmerizing charm.
"Our business is simple: to help clients reach heights they never imagined."
"Whether it's strength, skill, or... making up for regrets."
He extended a hand, making an inviting gesture.
"Now, I offer you a free user experience."
"Consider it an appetizer for our future cooperation."
Natasha stared intently at him, her gaze as sharp as a knife.
"Why should I trust you?"
"You don't need to trust me."
Lynt smiled.
"You just need to feel."
He suddenly leaned in, very close.
So close that Natasha could see her reflection in his pupils.
His finger gently rested on Natasha's shoulder.
In that instant, Natasha instinctively wanted to dodge, even counterattack.
Lynt felt the killing intent on Natasha's body, panicked inside, and immediately spoke.
"Relax, trust me, if it doesn't work, kill me anytime!"
Natasha's curiosity surged again; was his confidence genuine?
The killing intent receded completely, and she relaxed, just about to say something harsh... but her mouth was sealed by his liquor-scented lips.
She instinctively wanted to push him away, but Lynt gently bit her earlobe.
"Trust me..."
The room's soundproofing was excellent, and its privacy was strong.
Before coming, Lynt had even climbed up and down, searching the room.
There were no listening or monitoring devices.
The battle was fierce; perhaps it was due to his frequent contact with Mystique, Lynt started with full vigor.
Crack.
The sofa board collapsed.
Clatter.
Everything on the table was swept away.
Two and a half hours later.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ace Agent lay sprawled on the only uncollapsed sofa, panting heavily.
Sweat plastered her red hair to her body, making her fair skin even more alluring.
An indescribable sensation instantly spread throughout her body.
It wasn't electricity, nor was it heat.
It was a kind of... vitality.
Like parched land suddenly moistened by a spring rain.
The old injuries in her body, left by years of high-intensity training and combat, seemed to be gently smoothed away by a warm hand.
Her five senses were infinitely amplified at this moment.
She could clearly hear the crackling of wood burning in the fireplace, smell the complex aroma of whiskey in the air, and even feel the slight vibration of a car passing on a distant street outside the window.
The entire World, in her perception, became clearer and more three-dimensional than ever before.
Her mind also became incredibly sharp.
Some mission details that she couldn't understand in the past now suddenly became clear.
This feeling lasted for less than three seconds.
Lynt picked up his glass and drained it, then sat back on the sofa.
Not as good as Mystique.
"How do you feel, Agent Romanoff?"
He held the glass, like a product manager asking about user experience.
"Our company's main focus is service first."
Natasha froze in place, silent for a long time.
She looked at her hands.
Those hands were still those hands.
But she knew something was fundamentally different.
That feeling of being reborn just now was not an illusion.
This man, he truly... possessed a different kind of power.
"What do you want?"
Natasha's voice, for the first time, carried a hint of hoarseness and tremor.
Curiosity had completely killed the cautious cat.
"What I want?"
Lynt leaned back on the sofa, his smile becoming enigmatic.
"I don't want anything."
"I am just a businessman, an investor."
"I see a highly profitable investment in you."
He paused, looking at the dazzling night view outside the window, and said leisurely,
"In an impending era of chaos, the great ship of S.H.I.E.L.D. needs a lookout who can see the icebergs."
"And I, my dear Natasha, want to be the one... who sells the telescopes."
The room fell into a long silence.
The firelight from the fireplace reflected Natasha's changing face.
She looked at her neck, which twitched. From the moment she stepped into this room, she had fallen into a meticulously set trap.
And the bait offered by the hunter named Lynt was a poison she could not refuse.
It was also a poison that made her unable to resist.