[Mysteries On Marvel] Chapter 41/45 (Patreon)

As everyone knows, George was merely the deputy chief of New York's 13th Precinct, and above him, there was, of course, the actual chief.

The caller at this moment was none other than Damon Jones, the chief of the 13th Precinct and George's long-time superior.

George stared at the phone held by an officer, his expression shifting for a while before he finally picked it up.

"Chief..."

Before George could say another word, a weary voice from the other end interrupted him.

"Listen, George, hand this case over to them. I know what you're trying to do, and I understand how you feel right now, but this case involves unknown creatures, far beyond our jurisdiction. This isn't something we should be handling, and besides, orders have come from higher-ups. Even if you want to fight for it, you can't win."

George, unwilling to accept it, responded, "Chief, this is New York. We're the NYPD. Is there anything happening in this city that we're not allowed to handle?"

As the economic hub of the US, the NYPD wielded significant authority within its jurisdiction. Even when facing agencies like the FBI, they hardly felt inferior.

The FBI's strength lay in its vast scope of jurisdiction, but when it came to enforcement authority, local police departments like the NYPD were not necessarily weaker.

It was precisely this that gave George the confidence to stand firm against the FBI.

Hearing George's words, Damon sighed tiredly on the other end.

"George, you know the string of strange cases lately has drawn significant federal attention. After the news that you took down one of those creatures, the FBI, Homeland Security, and more than five other agencies called me—and the calls keep coming. They all want the corpse of that creature you killed. This case is beyond us, and since we don't have any research departments, keeping the creature's body serves no purpose. I'm retiring in six months, George. I don't want any trouble now."

Damon paused before adding, "George, I mentored you and chose you as my successor for the 13th Precinct. Trust me, let this one go. I wouldn't harm you."

George gradually fell silent.

Meanwhile, across from him, Grant Ward's smirk grew wider.

Just as Ward prepared to signal his team to take over, several vehicles bearing FBI insignias arrived at the scene.

What's going on?

More FBI vehicles?

Could these reinforcements have been called by Ward and his group?

Seeing the vehicles, George's already sour expression darkened further.

But when he looked up, he was surprised to see that Ward, rather than looking pleased, seemed visibly unsettled—even awkward.

What's happening here?

Soon, a group of people stepped out of the vehicles.

Among them was a portly man who opened his arms with a smile and approached George.

"Hey, George, long time no see!"

Seeing the overly familiar man, George frowned. "Joaquin?"

The man, Joaquin, was a veteran FBI agent George had worked with on several occasions.

Noticing George's expression, Joaquin feigned hurt. "Hey, buddy, don't look at me like that. I didn't do anything to offend you."

George gave him a cold glance and sneered, "You didn't offend me, but someone in your FBI sure did."

With that, he shot a cold look at Ward and his group across from him.

Joaquin, adept at reading people, quickly picked up on George's implications.

He frowned, scrutinizing Ward and his team. "You're FBI too? I don't recall seeing any of you before."

Ward replied coolly, "We're with the Special Operations Division."

Joaquin scoffed, "Nonsense. I'm the operations chief for the FBI's New York division. Any FBI operation in New York requires my authorization. How is it I've never heard of your so-called Special Operations Division?"

Turning to his team, Joaquin gestured. "Check their credentials. I suspect these people are impersonating FBI agents."

"Yes, sir."

As several agents moved toward Ward's team, the latter's forced composure began to crumble.

Gritting his teeth, Ward stepped forward. "Chief Joaquin, can I have a word with you in private?"

...

Minutes later, faced with Joaquin's unyielding stance and unable to secure reinforcements, Ward had no choice but to retreat with his group of fake FBI agents—agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. in disguise.

When impostors meet the real deal.

Normally, S.H.I.E.L.D. using the FBI's name to operate wasn't a big deal. After all, they paid a hefty "branding fee" to the FBI every year. But the moment their missions clashed, the FBI wouldn't hesitate to put them in their place.

After driving Ward's group away, Joaquin turned to George with a grin. "Hey, buddy, don't let those impostors ruin our relationship, okay?"

"Yeah, right," George rolled his eyes. "Aren't you here to steal this case too?"

Shrugging, Joaquin replied helplessly, "What can I do? Our boss specifically wants the creature you took down. But I can promise you this: as long as it's not classified, I'll share all the follow-up intel with you unconditionally."

Hearing Joaquin's assurance, George's mood improved.

At least Joaquin's approach was far more agreeable than Ward's arrogance.

Still thinking about the retreating group, George asked, "Who exactly were those people? Using your FBI banner to operate like that, and you just let them go? Since when has the FBI been so lenient?"

Joaquin's face darkened as he thought about how close S.H.I.E.L.D. had come to hijacking their case.

"Sorry, George, I can't tell you who they are. But I'll report this to my boss and let him handle those people."

"You can't say either?"

George looked at Joaquin in surprise.

(End of Chapter)

Joaquin nodded. "This involves a classified department, so I'm sorry, George."

"Alright."

Since Joaquin had put it that way, George had no choice but to comply. As a police officer, he understood the federal confidentiality regulations well.

In the end, George had no choice but to let the FBI take over the scene.

"Thanks, George. If you ever need help, don't hesitate to call me—you have my number."

As the head of operations for the FBI's New York division, Joaquin clearly didn't want to sour relations with George, the promising deputy chief of the NYPD. After expressing his gratitude, Joaquin led his team to take over the scene.

"All personnel, search the area again thoroughly and make sure nothing is overlooked. Report immediately if you find any new information..."

"Forensics, start analyzing the creature's movements and behavior. Find out where it came from!"

"Biotech team, run tests on the creature's blood and tissue samples. Check for any infectious viruses. I need answers immediately, understood?"

Under Joaquin's commands, the FBI agents moved in an orderly manner.

Elsewhere, Grant Ward, who had left in disgrace, reluctantly dialed Nick Fury's number.

"Director, I'm sorry. I messed up."

On the other end, Nick Fury responded calmly, "A temporary setback is nothing, Grant. Trust me, that thing will end up in our hands eventually. That's the mandate given to us by the World Security Council."

After World War II, the World Security Council had established S.H.I.E.L.D. to address unusual and supernatural incidents.

Although Ward had been humiliated by the FBI today, Fury, backed by the World Security Council, remained unconcerned—and unhurried.

At worst, they could simply buy the data from the FBI. S.H.I.E.L.D. was never short on funds.

And if all else failed, he could always ask Pierce for help.

The FBI acted swiftly.

Not long after Eren finished giving her statement in one of their vehicles, the biotech team had already produced several reports from analyzing the flesh and blood of the melted-faced spider.

Holding the reports, Joaquin approached George and the others. "Good news. While the creature's tissue is disgusting, it doesn't carry any infectious viruses."

George let out a long sigh of relief. "That's the best news I've heard all night."

Nearby, Eren looked up and asked, "In that case, Mr. George, can I go home now?"

George glanced at Joaquin.

Since the FBI had taken over the case, Eren's departure naturally depended on their approval.

Joaquin nodded. "The statement is done. As long as you're sure you're fine, you can leave anytime. That said, I recommend getting checked at a hospital to ensure you're uninjured. Don't worry—we'll cover the costs."

He then turned to George. "Same goes for you, my friend."

"That's great."

George didn't mind but didn't reject Joaquin's goodwill either.

"No need for a checkup. It's just some scrapes."

Eren waved her hand, showing the bandages on her forehead with a smile. "Honestly, I'd rather go home, take a nice bath, and get some sleep than go through hospital exams."

"Fair enough. If you feel unwell, you can always call the number on this card."

Perhaps sensing a close relationship between George and Eren—or simply wanting to monitor someone who had encountered the creature—Joaquin handed Eren a business card after a brief moment of thought.

"Thank you, sir."

At this moment, George spoke up. "Joaquin, can you arrange a car to take Eren home? It's late, and getting a cab now won't be easy."

He glanced at his watch, which pointed to 1 a.m.

"Of course."

Joaquin promptly called over an FBI agent to drive Eren home.

Eren didn't refuse George's kind gesture and thanked both men politely. "Thank you."

George waved it off. "Go home and rest."

...

Half an hour later.

Eren waved goodbye with a smile to the FBI agent who had escorted him to his door.

After watching Eren enter his home, the agent quickly left.

Behind the closed door, Eren's expression darkened.

He removed her jacket, walked into the bathroom, and stared at his reflection in the mirror—bandaged forehead, tired and disheveled. Then, he slapped himself hard.

"Not even a simple divination before heading out? Some seer you are!"

Before leaving home, Eren hadn't considered how dangerous this trip might be and hadn't thought to use his divination skills.

If not for his growing paranoia after being kidnapped—a fear that led him to always carry that egg-shaped grenade for protection—he might not have survived tonight. Let alone defeat the melted-faced spider and earn Fate Points.

Having recently become a Seer, Eren had learned some basic divination techniques but hadn't yet developed the habit of applying them to daily life.

This was a cognitive gap.

Only after reflecting on this crisis did Eren realize the flaw in his thinking.

"I'm still too weak. From now on, I need to divine the outcome before leaving the house and adjust my mindset quickly."

Sighing bitterly, he turned on the faucet, splashed water on his face, and composed himself.

Despite the dangers of the encounter, Eren had earned 300 Fate Points.

And he had no intention of saving them.

Tonight's ordeal had underscored his vulnerability.

He needed to arm himself quickly and grow stronger.

Closing his eyes, Eren felt his soul pass through a thin veil, entering the space where the Wheel of Fate resided.

Having visited this space several times, Eren no longer felt curiosity. He summoned the Fate Compass without hesitation and initiated a three-spin draw.

In an instant, the 300 Fate Points he had just earned were spent.

The massive, glowing shadow of the Wheel of Fate spun once again before Eren's eyes.

(End of Chapter)

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

Following three soft chimes, the Wheel of Fate disintegrated into countless points of light and vanished.

In its place, three glowing orbs materialized before Eren—two blue and one white.

Huh?

A jackpot?

Seeing this result—a rare two blue orbs and one white orb—Eren was stunned.

What kind of luck was this? A miracle on a single draw?

Could it be that I secretly have the "chosen one" gene?

Eren, who had been feeling down moments ago, was now elated by the sight of the two blue orbs.

Risking his life to earn those 300 Fate Points suddenly felt worth it.

Without hesitation, Eren reached for the white orb first.

Better to save the best for last—leave the blue orbs as the grand finale.

Pop!

As the white orb burst, what appeared before Eren was... a grenade.

A grenade identical to the one he'd received before.

Eren: "..."

It seemed he was destined to ignore George's warnings.

After all, how could he resist using something so practical?

Besides, it wasn't his fault—it was a reward from the Wheel of Fate!

Right?

As Eren habitually pocketed the grenade, he froze, his expression shifting.

He pulled a small bundle of silver threads from his pocket.

A cluster of shimmering, silver-white threads wound into a ball.

This wasn't just any thread—it was the fireproof strand Eren had taken from the melted-faced spider's corpse.

"Why is this thread in my pocket?"

Eren knew that his current presence in the space of fate was purely spiritual.

Though he appeared as he did in the real world, even wearing the same clothes, it was all a manifestation of his subconscious.

In truth, his real clothes and possessions couldn't follow him here.

He'd tested this countless times before. Only items obtained through the Wheel of Fate could exist in this space.

And yet, the silver thread—clearly an external item—had followed him here.

How could this not shock him?

Could it be that this silver thread was an extraordinary item of some kind?

Fascinated, Eren instinctively picked up the silver thread.

At that moment, the ethereal image of the Wheel of Fate hanging above the River of Destiny emitted a beam of white light, illuminating the silver thread.

Ding!

An instant later, a stream of information about the thread entered Eren's mind:

Ding!

Appraisal Complete: Congratulations, Host, on acquiring the extraordinary item—"Poisoned Threads of Resentment."

Poisoned Threads of Resentment: Formed from the resentment of a young girl betrayed by her lover, who was turned into a monster while alive. After her death, her lingering hatred coalesced into this thread.

Remark: A young girl's love is the most beautiful thing in this world. But when that beauty is shattered, and boundless love falls into despair, it becomes the sharpest weapon.

Trait 1: When imbued with spiritual energy, the Poisoned Threads can transform into a razor-sharp "spear," capable of piercing any armor and converting pure love into a venom that devours flesh and corrodes the soul.

Trait 2: The threads can grow stronger by consuming flesh and souls. The more it devours, the more powerful it becomes.

Trait 3: Faithless Shall Perish! Once every 24 hours, the threads will absorb a sliver of the host's blood. If it detects the aura of a betrayer, it will inject accumulated poison into the host.

Evaluation: Before using it, you should ask yourself—are you into netorare?

How powerful.

Eren's eyes widened as he read the information.

When imbued with spiritual energy, the Poisoned Threads could transform into a weapon capable of cutting through any armor, turning love into a deadly poison to devour the body and soul.

If the thread weren't so short, its armor-piercing trait alone could make it a highly coveted extraordinary item.

Not to mention its growth potential.

Of course, its third trait—a glaring drawback—might make others undervalue or outright reject it.

After all, the constant risk of backlash wasn't something everyone could accept.

But for Eren, this wasn't a concern.

Without hesitation, he channeled a sliver of spiritual energy into the Poisoned Threads.

Instantly, the threads became an extension of his will, shifting between soft and rigid, long and short. In his hands, the threads took on countless forms with ease.

What a treasure!

After experimenting for a while, Eren transformed the threads into a ring and slipped it onto his pinky finger.

With that done, he turned his attention back to the two blue orbs before him.

The Poisoned Threads had been an unexpected boon, but Eren hadn't forgotten the blue orbs, which were likely the real prizes of this draw.

Reaching out, Eren crushed the lighter blue orb.

Ding!

Congratulations, Host, on acquiring the starting potion for the Assassin Path—"Assassin."

The starting potion for the Assassin Path?

"What???"

Staring at the potion in his hand, Eren couldn't help but recall a famous line from an emperor:

"The taste of witches is truly divine!"

The memory sent a shiver down his spine, goosebumps rising all over.

"Ugh, what bad luck. Was the surprise of the Poisoned Threads enough to drain all my good fortune?"

Muttering curses under his breath, Eren frowned and pocketed the potion.

(End of Chapter)

Admittedly, while the Assassin Path becomes a massive hurdle for men at Sequence Seven, its early stages—starting with the "Assassin" potion—make it one of the strongest paths in terms of combat.

Eren mused that a single assassin could probably take on ten seers in battle.

Having such a powerful resource on hand was invaluable, even if he didn't plan to use it himself.

After all, just because he wouldn't use it didn't mean he couldn't give it to someone else.

Besides, who said the Assassin potion was strictly for men? Women could use it too, avoiding the dreaded gender change entirely.

Though, Eren couldn't help but be curious—if a man were to undergo the transformation, would he really become as enticing as the Emperor had described?

Cough, cough.

It was just curiosity.

With that thought, Eren put away the Assassin potion and reached out to crush the remaining blue orb.

Ding!

Congratulations, Host, on acquiring the psychic spell: Gaze of Dread.

Gaze of Dread

Description: A psychic spell that forces opponents to undergo a "Mental Will" check through direct eye contact.

Effect: Anyone making eye contact with the user must pass an intermediate-level "Mental Will" check. Those who fail will experience confusion, fear, or even fainting in severe cases. Each use, regardless of outcome, drains the user's stamina and mental energy.

Remark: In some worlds, this psychic spell is also known as "Dragon's Might."

Evaluation: A rare growth-type psychic spell. The stronger your mental power, the greater the pressure on your opponents. The spell's core can also be upgraded for further enhancements.

When Eren crushed the blue orb, the spell's rune seed transformed into a stream of light, embedding itself deep within his soul.

A psychic spell?

Did I just unlock a skill?

After examining Gaze of Dread, Eren's eyes gleamed with excitement.

This spell directly targeted the mind. No matter how physically powerful an enemy was, if their "Mental Will" failed, they'd tremble—or faint.

For foes with weak mental fortitude, this spell was a game-changer, especially when paired with Eren's ever-growing spiritual power.

Moreover, Gaze of Dread wasn't limited to combat. Eren could already think of numerous creative uses for it in daily life.

Eren spent a long time in the Fate Space this time, only leaving when his spiritual energy was nearly depleted.

Notably, the Assassin potion remained in the Fate Space—it was too risky to bring it into the real world.

Eren had several reasons for this decision:

No Immediate Need: He had no intention of using the potion himself, nor any suitable candidates to give it to.

Security Concerns: Displaying something akin to a super-soldier serum would inevitably attract danger.

Lack of Confidence in His Home's Security: His old house, vulnerable even to petty thieves, was practically defenseless against S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Since Eren was already on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar, he couldn't rule out the possibility of them investigating his home in his absence. If they found the Assassin potion, who knew what they'd do?

For these reasons, leaving the potion in the Fate Space was the safest choice.

Back in the real world, Eren felt considerably better.

After a refreshing shower, he made himself a small meal in the kitchen before heading to his bedroom for meditation.

Strangely, today's meditation felt unusually effective.

Eren could distinctly sense an improvement in both his mental strength and spiritual energy.

Could this be an unforeseen benefit of Gaze of Dread?

Comparing today's meditation to his usual sessions, Eren quickly pinpointed the spell as the cause.

During meditation, the rune seed of Gaze of Dread seemed to spin deep within his soul, absorbing unknown substances from the void.

An unexpected perk.

Smiling faintly, Eren opened his eyes to find daylight streaming through the window.

"Morning already?"

Last night's events had kept Eren up until nearly 2 a.m., and by the time he'd finished his midnight snack and started meditating, it was past 3 a.m.

No wonder the sun was already up when he finished.

Looking out the window, Eren watched the bustling street below. The aroma of buns, fried dough sticks, soy milk, and pancakes wafted through the air—distinctly Chinese-style breakfasts rarely found outside of Chinatown in New York.

Feeling a pang of hunger, Eren changed into workout clothes, grabbed some cash, and headed downstairs.

After buying a pile of breakfast items, he jogged to a nearby park, eating as he ran.

Despite the recent gifts from the Fate Space, Eren didn't abandon his morning runs. He had grown to enjoy the slight sweat that came with exercise.

Today, however, as he jogged, he noticed a new presence in the park—a striking figure with flowing red hair.

The woman's tight-fitting outfit accentuated her graceful curves, drawing countless admiring glances. Even elderly men out for their morning strolls couldn't help but steal a look.

Initially, Eren didn't pay much attention to her.

Even when he occasionally glimpsed her figure, he merely appreciated her beauty before shifting his focus back to his run.

But when she lapped him and he caught a clear view of her exquisitely beautiful face, Eren's demeanor changed instantly.

His entire body tensed with vigilance.

Moments later, however, Eren quickly masked his wariness.

Because this wasn't just any woman—she was Natasha Romanoff, better known as Black Widow, a Level 10 operative of S.H.I.E.L.D.

(End of Chapter)

Why was she here?

If the person in question had been an ordinary individual, Eren might have thought this was a coincidence or an accident.

But if the person involved was Natasha Romanoff, a top-tier agent, Eren couldn't believe it was so simple.

Was she here for me?

With lingering doubts, Eren continued jogging in the park for another half hour.

To his surprise, Natasha never approached him or initiated any conversation.

What Eren didn't know was that Natasha herself was equally puzzled as she jogged with her earbuds in.

During their brief eye contact earlier, Natasha had clearly caught a fleeting moment of surprise and wariness in Eren's eyes.

It was not the gaze of a teenage boy unexpectedly encountering a beautiful woman.

That momentary look made Natasha abandon her original plan of using a shared morning jogging routine to get closer to Eren.

Was I mistaken?

Still slightly suspicious, Eren left the park and pulled a leftover quarter from his pocket.

He decided to use a coin flip for divination to determine if Natasha was here because of him.

In the realm of divination, coin flips were famous for their convenience and speed.

However, their simplicity meant they could only reveal broad answers—heads for "yes," tails for "no."

For Eren, who only wanted to confirm Natasha's intentions, this was more than sufficient.

He infused a sliver of spiritual energy into the coin, tossing it into the air and leaving the answer to fate.

Just as Eren watched the coin flip mid-air, intending to catch it and interpret the result, a delicate hand with vibrant red nail polish caught the coin before him.

Snap!

Natasha, smiling brightly, stepped around Eren and held out the coin she had just caught.

"Your coin!"

Glancing at the coin in Natasha's palm—with its heads side facing up—Eren sighed internally.

Heads. Great, no doubt now. She's definitely here for me.

"Thank you."

After politely expressing his thanks, Eren retrieved his coin and stood silently, looking at Natasha.

Noticing his gaze, Natasha frowned slightly.

"Staring at a lady like that isn't very gentlemanly, you know."

Eren responded calmly, "I'm waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to speak."

Natasha paused briefly, then smiled slightly. The combination of her exquisite features and the athletic curves emphasized by her workout attire added a youthful vibrance to her charm.

"That's an unusual way to start a conversation."

"No," Eren shook his head, "I just don't want to waste unnecessary words, Agent Natasha Romanoff."

Hearing her full name spoken aloud, Natasha's pupils contracted sharply.

"You know me?"

Eren replied cryptically, "Sort of. During one of my divinations, I caught a glimpse of your death. That's how I know some things about you."

Natasha's interest was piqued. "My death, you say? What did you see?"

Judging by her curious expression, she seemed genuinely interested in how she might die.

But...

Eren noticed there was no fear of death in her eyes—something ordinary people would undoubtedly display.

After a moment's thought, Eren replied, "It was a touching scene. You sacrificed yourself to save countless others."

"Is that so?" Natasha shrugged with a smile. "Didn't expect my death to be so noble."

Eren chuckled. "What I saw was merely one of many possible futures. It doesn't mean it will definitely happen. Fate is ever-changing, and no matter how powerful a seer is, they can never guarantee their visions will come true."

"More importantly, I'm curious why you're here, Miss Romanoff."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Aren't you a seer? Why not divine it yourself?"

Eren held up his quarter. "I already did. Unfortunately, fate didn't reveal your intentions."

Natasha's gaze shifted to the coin in Eren's hand, recalling how he had tossed it earlier. Her brows furrowed slightly.

Was that… divination?

Assuming her act of catching the coin had interfered with his process, Natasha apologized. "Sorry, did I mess up your divination?"

Though she was still skeptical about Eren's so-called divination, Natasha couldn't deny that he seemed to possess some unique abilities.

Otherwise, her director wouldn't have assigned her to make contact with him despite her busy schedule.

But who could have predicted that Eren would reveal her identity so directly, throwing her original plan out the window?

Eren simply smiled and didn't answer her question.

Seeing this, Natasha felt a mix of helplessness and frustration.

When she first received this mission, she thought that getting close to a teenage boy with her charm and skills would be a piece of cake.

But Eren's behavior had completely upended her expectations.

Left with no choice, Natasha adjusted her approach.

"I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. to thank you for helping us locate Tony Stark."

They found him already?

Eren's expression briefly betrayed his surprise.

He had to admit, S.H.I.E.L.D. worked with impressive efficiency.

In such a short time, they had crossed half the globe, found Tony Stark, and apparently rescued him from the terrorists. Otherwise, Natasha wouldn't have said what she did.

"Your thanks are noted. If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave."

With a polite nod to Natasha, Eren turned as if to leave.

Natasha, left standing there, felt a trace of disbelief flash in her eyes.

Did he just walk away?

She even began to question herself.

Is my charm failing me?

(End of Chapter)

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