Chapter 84: Five Instructors—Who Will Teach Me?

Worried that the agents might beat up Master Wang’s apprentice and that things would get out of hand, the Black Widow bent low, twisting her body, and sprinted across the training grounds at full speed, coming to a sudden stop.

Then she froze.

What was going on?

The vast training field held only five people standing; everyone else was down, and they were all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents! Roughly a third had their arms or legs dislocated—unable to fix themselves, they stared daggers at the five standing figures, their eyes brimming with resentment, hatred, and unwillingness.

Another third had simply been beaten into submission. Though they struggled to get up, that youngest member, Gabriel Reyes—a wholesome middle schooler, so pure and innocent—was darting about the field. Whenever he saw someone trying to rise, he’d rush over and kick them back down.

His hands and feet trembled, his whole body shook, yet his kicks were vicious. Each blow was powerful, leaving pain lingering for ages; the young man didn’t know his own strength. His aim was clearly lacking—sometimes he missed the mark and had to try several times, making it painful just to watch. When he did hit the vital spots, it wasn’t just pain; it struck so hard they couldn’t even cry out, sometimes passing out entirely, and perhaps sacrificing their happiness for the rest of their lives.

Fortunately, he grew more proficient with each kick, until his legs no longer trembled and his aim became true—one kick, one knockout. At this rate, in less than a minute, everyone would be unconscious.

The last third had it worse—completely unconscious. Had this underage youth done all that?

As for the other four?

Erica, clad in a red combat suit with flowing hair, sweat beading across her skin, breathed heavily, eyes blazing with ferocity. She’d clearly just endured an intense battle. Was she the one who had taken down these elite field agents?

Skye stood against the wall, arms folded as if she wasn’t involved. When Black Widow glanced her way, she shrugged innocently.

The Stick Master stood on the other side, leaning on his cane, breathing evenly, and nodded at her with a gentle smile.

Matt stood not far from Erica, silent.

So, what had happened here?

“Speak. What’s going on?” Black Widow looked to one of the thirty-something buzz-cut chubby men.

His name was Eric Koenig, a secret agent recruited from who-knows-where by Fury. She’d never seen him before, hadn’t even heard of him. Level 6 clearance—apparently one of the Director’s trusted confidantes. Among all the agents, nearly half were secret operatives, but his clearance was highest.

That wasn't why Black Widow asked him, though. Despite being sprawled on the ground, he was uninjured. Was he faking it? Where had Fury found this clown?

With Gabriel knocking out the last few, only Koenig remained, and he’d been the one to tip her off. Who else would she ask?

“They’re terrifying! These people are terrifying!” The chubby man scrambled up, hiding behind Black Widow, his small eyes narrowed in fear—not at Gabriel, but at Erica, who stood further away, his voice trembling:

“At first, some agents wanted to challenge the instructors. Agent Romanoff, you know S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t a military—hand-to-hand combat training means fighting for real. Trainees challenging instructors is common; it’s normal if someone’s dissatisfied—a lesson is all it takes. Of course, who teaches whom isn’t certain.”

Black Widow frowned. “So, whom did you challenge? Instructor Matt? Instructor Erica? Or Stick Master?”

The chubby man shook his head quickly. “We challenged all five at once!”

Black Widow: “…”

If you’re looking for trouble, aren’t you being too reckless? She pressed on, “And then?”

He answered, “Then that woman stepped forward and said she alone was enough—one person against a hundred.”

Black Widow’s eyebrows shot up. “And then?”

These field agents were all elite—even if Captain America returned, a hundred versus one wouldn’t be easy. Was this girl imagining herself as the Immortal Iron Fist?

Black Widow calculated: In a wide area, relying on agility and endurance, in pure hand-to-hand, she herself might just manage to take on a hundred. After all, these agents were skilled but none were at the level of Melinda or Wood. Master Wang’s close-combat skills were on par with hers. His apprentices shouldn’t be able to handle one versus a hundred, especially in such a confined space.

The chubby man hesitated, then sheepishly replied, “A hundred against one was too shameful, so we decided on a hundred against five.”

Black Widow was speechless.

A hundred against one is embarrassing, but a hundred against five is respectable?

“And then?” she asked.

Logically, even a hundred against five should be manageable.

To break it down: Gabriel was just an ordinary middle schooler. Skye had trained under Master Wang for three years, but from all collected data, her abilities might not even match a typical field agent. Then there was a woman and two blind men, one of whom was seventy years old. These three had nearly been killed by dozens of ninjas before the Immortal Iron Fist saved them.

Their skills… not weak, but surely the three together couldn’t beat Black Widow herself?

“And then? Well, it’s as you see now.” The chubby man shrank back, helplessly pointing to Skye and Gabriel, “Those two didn’t even fight. In reality, it was a hundred against three, and we all went down… She… she’s terrifying!”

The chubby man’s gaze fixed on Erica, making it clear:

Not just strong—terrifying.

Strength was one thing, terror another.

Those two blind men were actually stronger than the woman, as the five-minute battle had shown.

But it was different.

The young blind man was gentle, afraid of hurting the agents. A third of the agents had arms and legs dislocated by him—actually a protective measure.

The elderly blind man was much harsher, using his cane to knock them out one by one—but even then, he was measured, only knocking them unconscious without injury, another form of protection. After all, once unconscious, they wouldn’t be beaten any further.

But the woman—she was different.

She seemed to revel in combat.

She didn’t target vital spots, nor did she knock people out.

She wasn’t foolish enough to clash head-on, but her behavior was truly wild—she seemed less human, more beast, a king of beasts surviving in the wild!

The agents who weren’t unconscious, hadn’t had limbs dislocated, but were covered in injuries—all were her doing!

If it weren’t for the other woman who never fought, and who had the middle schooler knock out the wounded agents with a stick, the woman in red would never have stopped. The chubby man even suspected someone might have died!

All for a simple challenge.

Was it necessary?

Black Widow was silent for a moment, her eyes scanning the five, sensing their heartbeats and breaths. Suddenly she asked, “Erica, have you cultivated ‘Qi’?”

Erica, the battle frenzy fading from her eyes, replied, “I succeeded yesterday.”

Black Widow nodded, feeling a twinge of envy, then turned to Stick Master. “And you?”

“Three days ago,” he replied.

Black Widow was even more envious. She looked to Matt.

“Four days ago,” Matt answered.

Now Black Widow felt a hint of jealousy, and turned to Skye.

“A week ago?” Skye answered shyly, embarrassed—three years of training to finally cultivate true Qi, surely disappointing Master Wang.

Black Widow was at a loss, then turned to Gabriel. “Don’t tell me you mastered ‘Qi’ half a month ago?”

Gabriel blushed, head lowered, and murmured, “Not yet…”

Black Widow exhaled softly.

Thank goodness.

Otherwise, she’d go mad.

Matt, Erica, and Stick Master were likely from K’un-Lun. Skye had been training under Master Wang for three years, so it made sense she had cultivated Qi.

Gabriel, only training for a month—if he’d achieved Qi as well, it would be terrifying!

“You may not know, but among the trainees for this special course, there are actually one hundred and one agents. The one hundred and first is me.”

Black Widow clenched her fist, sweeping her gaze across the five. “Instructors, which of you will teach me?”