[TN: lol sup yall, some yall been waiting for a while a extra week longer than I promised, but my final last longer than I expected, so mb. To make it up for you all and because I love you guys for this week only, I'll do three chapters a day from Monday to Friday, so 15 chapters for this week.
Natasha was growing anxious—no one had ever kept her waiting this long.
But the interior design of the Blume Corporation truly impressed her.
This information company had recently dominated the headlines across major media platforms, and after the chaos of the global internet disruption, its security systems remained fully intact. It stirred the imagination.
But imagination was one thing—without evidence, making accusations would just land you in court.
From the outside, the Blume Corporation building looked just as modest as the surrounding financial towers. But inside, there wasn't a single human in sight—only robots.
Even S.H.I.E.L.D., with all its high-tech gear, didn't have anything quite like this.
At least, not that she knew of.
Leo walked into the room and sat down while still processing data transmitted by Frank.
"Go ahead—what's this about?"
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee," Natasha said, pausing slightly as she gazed at Leo with the kind of seductive charm that had brought many to their knees.
Unfortunately for her, Leo was focused on processing data. Most of his attention wasn't even on her.
So his demeanor came across as completely indifferent.
Still, a faint blue light could be seen flickering in his eyes.
Although the pause lasted only a fraction of a second—barely noticeable in a normal conversation—Leo, accustomed to high-speed data processing, had a keen sense of time.
He waved a hand and sat across from her, taking the initiative: "Don't take it personally. I'm just busy. But it won't affect our conversation. Care to introduce yourself?"
Natasha was speechless. Seduction didn't always work, sure—but she had never seen someone this unresponsive.
He's 18, the age of raging hormones, yet he reacts like a piece of wood.
Worse—like a piece of driftwood buried in the desert for hundreds of years.
Ridiculous.
She immediately changed tactics, adjusting her shirt to standard workplace decency and tucking her assets back beneath her professional outfit.
Her demeanor shifted from sultry to businesslike, though still attractive enough to distract most inexperienced men—or attract those with particular tastes.
"…This is a private contract. We have a ship docked at the Suez Canal, and we'd like your help protecting the cargo on board."
Huh?
Leo raised an eyebrow. This wasn't what he'd expected.
Natasha hadn't approached him as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
Interesting.
"What's on the ship?"
"High-value cargo," Natasha replied, pulling a document from her cleavage and placing it on the table. "Details are inside."
Relics? Leo glanced at the cover but didn't bother to pick it up.
These people lied through their teeth. The documents would be even worse. At best, only the "cargo storage and transport requirements" section might contain some truth.
Indeed, the first page outlined some basic storage requirements.
Thinking this, Leo's gaze toward the document turned slightly disdainful. But Natasha misinterpreted that look.
Does he think I'm being unprofessional, pulling things from my chest? Other men never complain…
Leo scanned the front page and repeated the listed precautions: "Ensure cargo integrity and temperature control. Follow the designated route and schedule strictly. No unauthorized personnel allowed contact with the cargo… So, total confidentiality and strict handling protocols?"
[TN:Can any one guess what this cargo is ;)]
Natasha smiled slightly. "Exactly why we want you. Everyone knows Mr. Lee follows the rules.
We need the entire transport process to remain confidential, flawless."
"In other words… You want me, the carrier, to remain completely in the dark about what I'm transporting, while still treating it with the utmost care."
"Yes. It's a harsh request, which is why our payment offer is… attractive. Don't want to open it and take a look?"
"How much? Just tell me."
"…Twelve million U.S. dollars."
Leo raised his eyebrows.
A transport fee of $12 million? Only the largest container ships in the world could pull in revenue like that.
But the ship described in the document was just a small freighter. If it earned a million per run, that would already be excellent.
"If you don't give me more details… I'll assume I'm transporting a nuclear warhead. Be honest."
Having finished processing the data, Leo leaned forward slightly, now paying full attention.
Placing one finger atop the folder, he said, "12 million is tempting, but I don't need the money. Like I said, if it's a nuke, my business reputation is ruined, and I might face huge penalties. Not worth it."
"Impossible," Natasha shook her head and pulled out another document from her chest.
Leo looked amused. What is that? A fourth-dimensional pocket? How much does she have in there?
"This is a certification from a UN organization. The cargo is just some scientific research results."
"I see—you're working for the United Nations."
"Correct. And as you know, while any nation might possess nuclear weapons, the UN itself never would."
The UN is an international entity with real operations.
But in the Marvel world, Natasha's word couldn't be trusted—S.H.I.E.L.D. definitely had nukes.
"Funny. The UN's always crying poverty—no money for aid, no funds for peacekeeping. Where'd all this money come from?"
"That's not your concern."
"Hmm… valuable UN cargo."
Leo ignored the document again, stroking his chin in thought.
Natasha began to get nervous—not because he minded her pulling documents from her chest again, but because he hadn't once looked at the actual contents.
All the fabricated lies, fake evidence inside—completely ignored. And yet he zeroed in on the only part that was actually true.
Before she could steer him off track, Leo continued: "Let me guess—it's not cargo. You're smuggling someone important."
Smack.
Natasha slapped the document and looked Leo straight in the eye: "Stop guessing. I don't know what's inside either.
You're right—let me be honest. I haven't introduced myself properly.
I'm Natasha, and I work under the UN peacekeeping division. I only know the cargo is vital to world peace and must arrive safely at UN headquarters in New York.
It could be a piece of technology, some intelligence, a piece of evidence—anything. My job is not to ask questions.
And we chose you because, as I said at the start, we had no other choice. We have to trust you."
Leo shrugged. "That's better. Honesty helps. Go on."
"The world is splitting apart. So is the UN. We suspect some war-mongering elements from the U.S. have infiltrated us.
That's why we can't use the Security Council's resources. We need you because we know you'll help us.
We don't know who else is after the cargo, but we do know—it must not fall into anyone else's hands."
"All this is your boss's idea."
Natasha hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, this is a private commission. You won't receive official UN authorization."
Leo leaned back, feeling the chair armrests.
Nick Fury had personally asked him to move this cargo. Though it all seemed cloaked in secrecy, on closer thought—
These layers of misdirection weren't a problem. He knew even Natasha didn't have the real intel.
In fact, the disguise was meant to be seen through.
The carefully choreographed unraveling was designed to build just the right amount of tension, stir curiosity, and appeal to Leo's political ideals.
A masterfully crafted deception—one that wasn't afraid of being exposed.
This small gesture forced Natasha to match his pacing and quietly wait for his thoughts to conclude.
"…You're pretty composed," Leo suddenly said.
Natasha blinked.
"Didn't your superiors tell you this is already a ticking time bomb? Or did you not take it seriously?
I'll take the job. But there's no way $12 million is your bottom line."
"It is the bottom line," Natasha cut him off, sounding both sincere and helpless.
"Come on, rich guy—when did you get the idea the UN had money?
We're broke. Still patching up losses from the internet catastrophe. That $12 million…
Please don't report us. It might be our boss's private stash."
Leo was left speechless.
Because he had caused the internet disaster.
"Let's talk routes. I suggest you offload the cargo in Tanzania.