"Natasha, I've got a mission for you."
"I need you to get close to Zenkichi, observe him carefully, and evaluate whether he's suitable to join the Avengers."
After a long moment of thought, Nick Fury summoned his most trusted operative, Natasha Romanoff—codename: Black Widow—and handed her the assignment.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was in desperate need of new strength. Even top-tier agents like Natasha and Clint Barton, despite their elite training, were still fundamentally human. S.H.I.E.L.D. might be tasked with protecting the world, but they didn't yet have the power to do so effectively.
Zenkichi's strength, on the other hand, was exactly the kind of force they needed. Fury wanted him in the fold. Dıscover more novels at 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕·𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎·𝚗𝚎𝚝
"No problem. Leave it to me," Natasha said without hesitation.
Zenkichi lounged on his couch, absentmindedly flipping through TV channels. The quiet hum of the screen was suddenly interrupted by a loud knock—and the door bursting open.
A woman, injured and breathless, staggered inside.
She was wearing a sleek black leather suit, her curvaceous form accentuated beneath the tight material. Panic covered her beautiful face, evoking an almost instinctive urge to protect her.
"Please, help me! Someone's chasing me!" she cried out, her voice trembling with urgency.
Zenkichi, calm and observant, looked her over with amused interest. He had already seen through her act, but he played along.
"Who's after you?" he asked smoothly.
"The Kingpin's crew. I… I accidentally disrupted one of their deals," she stammered, eyes wide.
Though she played the damsel in distress well, Natasha Romanoff was far from helpless. Behind the mask of fear was a deadly assassin—trained, ruthless, and highly strategic. She had deliberately sabotaged a deal in Hell's Kitchen just to stage this scene and get close to Zenkichi.
She was confident in her allure. And she knew—the hero saves the girl was a classic move for building connection.
Right on cue, a group of men burst into the room, yelling Natasha's name as they advanced on her. She gave Zenkichi a pleading look.
Zenkichi simply sighed and raised his right hand. A golden glow shimmered at his fingertips.
A beam of golden energy fired—quick, sharp, precise. The intruders dropped instantly, riddled with holes before they hit the floor.
"You can stay," Zenkichi said with a casual smile.
He formed a few shadow clones to chase down the rest of the attackers outside.
In this world—Marvel's Earth—Zenkichi had no inherent enemies. But with the destruction of the U.S. Navy fleet and an entire air force division fresh in everyone's minds, tensions were high. Still, he didn't want continued conflict.
Joining S.H.I.E.L.D. as a consultant would allow him exposure to greater threats, stronger foes, and the opportunity to unlock further battle potential—especially to complete Saitama's template.
Of course, taking orders wasn't on the table. Zenkichi wasn't someone anyone could control.
Working as an external consultant? That was fine.
"You want me to stay?" Natasha asked, surprised. "Why would you say that?"
Although that had been her goal all along, Zenkichi saying it first caught her off guard.
She had intended to plead for shelter, appear vulnerable, and subtly insinuate herself into his life. But now the dynamic had flipped. It almost felt like he was the one orchestrating the encounter.
Zenkichi gave her a knowing look and said plainly, "Isn't this what you wanted, Agent Natasha?"
Her expression froze. He had seen right through her.
"…How did you figure out who I was?" she asked after a beat, unable to hide her disappointment.
She'd planned every detail meticulously. Yet her cover was already blown.
"You underestimate me. I have… certain abilities," Zenkichi replied coolly. "I didn't need clues, intelligence, or deduction. I simply knew."
Natasha let out a quiet sigh of relief. Knowing he had supernatural perception made her feel less professionally embarrassed.
"I see. In that case… you already understand why I'm here, don't you?"
"If you hadn't, you wouldn't have told me to stay. And if you're letting me stay… then that means you're open to what I represent."
She shifted smoothly back into her composed, calculated demeanor—the real Natasha. Her eyes studied Zenkichi carefully, gauging his every reaction.
"That's right," he replied.
"Compared to those fools in the U.S. military, your approach makes more sense."
"I care about protecting this planet too. That aligns with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mission. If our goals match, we can cooperate."
"You want to evaluate me? Go ahead."
"But I'll be evaluating S.H.I.E.L.D. too—to decide whether you are worthy to work with me."
His voice was calm, but firm. He wasn't being prideful—he was stating facts.
Natasha exhaled, shoulders relaxing.
Her plan hadn't worked exactly as designed, but the outcome was still a success. She had made contact. She had gained proximity. And she was in.
Just like that, Natasha Romanoff—Black Widow—became a guest in Zenkichi's home.
"We interrupt with breaking news—Tony Stark, billionaire and head of Stark Industries, has been attacked by unknown assailants…"