The next day.
Inside the Assassin's League base.
When Smith Doyle left, there were three in his group. When he returned, that number had doubled to six.
Inside the lab, Bulma was grumbling.
"Brother Smith, you promised to take me out for a walk. When are you going to make good on it?"
Smith Doyle looked at Bulma, who was clinging to his arm like a spoiled child. He scratched his head awkwardly and said,
"In a couple of days."
"I'll take you to meet a very interesting friend. He's one of the few true geniuses in this world."
"He's also an inventor like you."
Bulma didn't care about some inventor genius. All she cared about was going out on a date with Smith Doyle.
"You promised! Two days, no more delays."
Smith Doyle nodded,
"This time I won't go back on my word."
Bulma's smile grew wider. She was already daydreaming about their outing, completely forgetting about the supposed scientific genius. Who could be more brilliant than me, after all?
"Brother Smith, the power level scanner you asked me to develop is ready for mass production."
"The first-gen model caps at a 150 power level. If someone exceeds that, the device will overload and explode—but don't worry, it won't hurt anyone."
"I've removed the function for energy-based wide-area scanning and life-force detection."
"To scan someone now, you have to aim at them directly with your eyes."
"The comms function is still there, though. We can monitor what someone is saying when they use it."
"I also added an anti-tampering feature. If someone tries to dismantle it or hacks the data stream, it'll blow up."
Smith Doyle smiled at her modifications—better than he'd expected.
"You really are a genius, Bulma."
Bulma beamed at the praise. She then glanced at the unconscious blonde woman on a stretcher nearby and asked,
"Brother Smith, who's this lady you brought back?"
"That's Yelena," Smith Doyle explained.
"She's been implanted with a neurotoxin that allows others to control her."
"I need your help figuring out how to counteract it."
Bulma let go of his arm and rested her chin on her hand in thought.
"I'll take a look. No guarantees yet, but I'll try."
Smith Doyle knew that if Bulma said she'd try, there was a high chance it'd get done.
"I'm counting on you. I've got a meeting to run—see you later. And don't worry, I'll take you out in two days."
As Smith Doyle left, Bulma turned her attention back to Yelena and began pondering the challenge ahead.
---
Exiting the lab, Smith Doyle headed straight for the conference room.
Inside were Natasha, Melina, and Alexei, waiting for him. He pushed open the door, sat down at the head of the table, and began:
"I've handed Yelena over to our scientist—she's brilliant."
"I'm confident she'll find a way to neutralize the neurotoxin."
"Melina, you were involved in its creation. Any insight on the antidote?"
Smith Doyle wasn't just trying to save Yelena—more importantly, he wanted to free all the Black Widows who were still under control.
The ones still in training at the Red Room were expendable—if they attacked, he had no issue with putting them down.
But the elite graduates? They were already in the field and under his indirect control.
Melina shook her head.
"Even though I was a scientist at the Red Room, I had nothing to do with developing the antidote."
"Dreykov kept everyone tightly controlled, including me. If I had known anything about the antidote, I probably wouldn't be standing here."
Smith Doyle nodded.
"Then we'll wait for our side to crack it."
Natasha spoke up next:
"Smith, thank you for rescuing us and revealing the truth. I finally got justice."
"We have no way to repay your kindness. All we can offer is our loyalty—if you'll have us."
She, Melina, and Alexei stood, stepped forward, and knelt before Smith Doyle.
"We pledge our allegiance."
This had been the result of much discussion while Smith Doyle had been away. Melina, after learning about the Assassin's League and its principles, saw it as a path to redemption. She and Alexei agreed it was the best choice for the future.
As for Natasha, she no longer trusted S.H.I.E.L.D. Being with Smith Doyle seemed like a better option—and aligning with the League's code felt right, especially after destroying the Red Room.
Smith Doyle smiled at the three kneeling before him.
All that effort wasn't in vain. They came to me on their own, no need to convince them.
"Alright. I accept your loyalty."
---
Meanwhile, at Stark's villa, Tony had removed his armor and changed into casual clothes.
Pepper Potts, after seeing the battle-scarred state of the suit, scolded him before storming out.
Staring at the suit covered in scorch marks and bullet dents, Tony gave an order:
"JARVIS, begin repairs and repaint the armor. How long will it take?"
"Approximately two hours, sir."
"Then get to it."
Once that was handled, Tony remembered he needed to inform Smith Doyle about what happened with Yinsen. Plus, he wanted to spar—a real test to see how his suit held up against a superhuman.
He went upstairs, grabbed his phone, and called Smith Doyle.
Smith had just finished accepting the trio's allegiance when his phone rang. Seeing it was Tony Stark, he picked up.
"Hey, Smith Doyle!"
"Hey, Tony Stark!"
"Smith, remember how I said once my new suit was ready, we'd have that duel? How about tonight?"
"No more deserts this time—let's fight near my villa. What do you think?"
Smith Doyle, reminded he had promised Bulma a trip, figured he could kill two birds with one stone and agreed.
"Sure. I'll head over later. Oh, and I'm bringing a friend."
---