Dreykov's demise at Hong Fei's hands yielded no skill card, much like the Purple Man who fell to Jessica. Even destroying the body brought no rewards—but that hardly mattered.
Had the Purple Man dropped a skill card, its effects would likely have been overpowering. Yet revenge is best left to the victims themselves. Hong Fei had no interest in the Purple Man's abilities anyway. As for Dreykov? Even if he'd dropped a skill card, it wouldn't have been worth much.
Rather than obsessing over potential skill cards, Hong Fei saw greater value in letting the Black Widows unleash their pent-up fury. It served a dual purpose: catharsis for them, and a chance for him to win their loyalty. With Dreykov and the Red Room destroyed, Natasha was the only Black Widow with a clear path forward. The rest were adrift.
Once Dreykov was reduced to ash, the bewildered group turned their gazes to Natasha and Yelena, their saviors. After a hushed discussion among themselves—before Hong Fei could even propose his own plans—Natasha stepped forward as their representative to negotiate with him.
These Black Widows were no fools. On the contrary, they were exceptionally sharp, with Natasha being the sharpest of them all. They quickly deduced that Hong Fei had designs on the Red Room—or rather, on them. And for them, this wasn't a bad thing. With nowhere else to go, maintaining the status quo seemed the wisest course, at least temporarily.
Here, they had a group of people who shared their plight. Even if they weren't close, there was a basic bond of understanding. Their demands were straightforward: they would work for Hong Fei, but he couldn't subject them to chemical control. In return, they expected respect and a degree of freedom. Was that a problem? Not at all.
Hong Fei went a step further, offering them better options and treatment. The most practical arrangement for the Black Widows was to preserve the Red Room's structure while eradicating its toxic ideology at the root. Above all, anything tied to Dreykov—especially chemical control—had to be obliterated.
For those taken from their families by the Red Room, Hong Fei offered them a clean break. If they could adapt, they could live normal lives from then on. As for the rest, he vowed to unravel their stories one by one.
Those who needed to grieve could grieve. Those who wished to honor their past could do so. Even those who wanted to shed their Black Widow identity entirely would face no obstacles. Honestly, Hong Fei hoped more would choose that path—because there were simply too many Black Widows. Over twenty were at the base, with thousands more active elsewhere.
How many subordinates did Hong Fei originally have? Counting Frank, there were five notable figures, plus Numbers One through Five, and 120 elite soldiers—130 people in total. More people weren't necessarily better, especially with so many women. Even as agents, they were still women. In his view, a hundred would suffice.
Unlike Dreykov, Hong Fei harbored no ambitions of controlling the world through these women. Some things aren't more effective just because you have more hands. Natasha frowned at this, and Yelena, standing beside her, mirrored her expression. Yelena didn't mince words: "Do you look down on them?"
"Hey, wait—I never said that, and I don't mean it like that," Hong Fei protested quickly. "Then why don't you want them?" Yelena pressed. "It's not that I don't want them. It's just unnecessary," Hong Fei replied. Yelena raised an eyebrow. "They're all exceptional agents who've completed at least three missions. You know Red Room missions are never simple." "I know," Hong Fei said. "Then why call it unnecessary?"
Hong Fei frowned slightly. How could he explain that he didn't want to be responsible for too many women? Natasha, noticing his expression, chimed in with a smirk, "If you don't want them, I could always take them to S.H.I.E.L.D.…"
Hong Fei snapped, "Dream on. I'd rather throw them away than hand them over to you!"
"Throw them away?" Yelena echoed, her tone sharp.
Hong Fei sighed. "Alright, enough games.
Here's the truth: I doubt many of them want to stay as Black Widows. Their lives have been pain and death. Aside from a few twisted souls, who'd want that? You both know this better than anyone. Who'd willingly live on the edge of life and death if they could have peace?"
"Here's my plan: I've already recalled all Black Widows stationed abroad. Once they're back, I'll remove their chemical control and give them a choice. Those who want to leave will have their records wiped clean—they'll start fresh. Those who stay can remain. And if anyone changes their mind later, they're free to leave anytime, as long as they've tied up loose ends."
Natasha and Yelena exchanged a glance, then smiled. "Thank you," they said in unison.
Hong Fei waved a hand dismissively. "Don't thank me yet. The Red Room is gone for good. I'll renovate this place and expand it gradually. But right now, I don't have the manpower to oversee so many Black Widows. Any suggestions?"
Yelena looked at Natasha, who shook her head. "I can't. I'm…"
"Joined the Avengers, huh?" Hong Fei cut in bluntly.
Natasha blinked in surprise, then nodded.
"Listen, half-ass that gig, or it'll kill you young," Hong Fei warned.
Natasha smiled faintly but said nothing, clearly unconvinced.
Hong Fei didn't push it. Instead, he turned to Yelena. "You'll handle S.H.I.E.L.D., but I need your help here too. Yelena's my pick for this, and you'll mentor her." Yelena scoffed.
"I don't need to learn anything from her." To her surprise, Natasha nodded. "She's already grown up." Yelena blinked, caught off guard. These sisters were a strange pair, and their fake adoptive parents hadn't helped matters. After over a decade apart, some awkwardness was inevitable.
Hong Fei pulled out the ring Dreykov had left and handed it to Yelena. "The Black Widows outside are still under chemical control. They'll return soon, and you'll explain everything to them. Then you'll ask for their decisions. Frank will assist you. If you run into issues, talk to him, Natasha, or me directly. Once everyone's free, we'll discuss the Black Widows' future arrangements."
Yelena hesitated, her hand hovering over the ring. "Why me?"
Hong Fei opened his mouth to respond, but she suddenly pointed at Natasha. "Because of her?"
Natasha froze mid-sentence. Before she could speak, Yelena added, "Don't answer. I know."
Hong Fei and Natasha exchanged puzzled glances. Was Yelena just overthinking things again?
Hong Fei cut her off before she could spiral into wild assumptions. "Don't let your imagination run wild here. Natasha would make a good candidate if she were willing, but she's not suitable now—and likely won't be in the future. I chose you, and it has nothing to do with her. This decision was based entirely on your personal ability."
He leaned forward, his tone firm but encouraging. "I know you're not the type to underestimate yourself. You understand this place, and you understand the other Black Widows. I believe you can handle this job." Natasha nodded in agreement beside him, her expression steady.
Yelena hesitated, her skepticism mingling with a flicker of hope. After a moment of contemplation, she took the ring. With that, the takeover of the Red Room's base and personnel was complete.
Natasha and Yelena left to reunite with their adoptive parents. Hong Fei knew their reunion wouldn't be a cozy, heartwarming affair. More likely, Alexei, the old Russian, would find himself roasted by the entire family once again. But that was their business, not his.
The real prize this time was his physical breakthrough to the second stage. This was the foundation, the core goal Hong Fei had been pursuing all along. The second stage brought an all-around enhancement in strength, endurance, speed, and senses. It also unlocked an additional card slot, bringing the total to four. He suspected another slot would open after the energy breakthrough. But there was more—an unexpected bonus.
Standing atop the Red Room's base, Hong Fei activated the Eyes of Death. The world shifted into black and white, and beneath him, Ivan and Big Head had removed their battle armor, chatting casually. Their heads and chests glowed with distinct red areas. Ivan's lumbar spine emitted a faint red hue, while Big Head's elongated skull shone with a purplish-red light.
Red marked their weak points—a brand-new ability granted by the Eyes of Death: Weakness Display. Hong Fei turned his gaze to the Abomination on the other side. Most of its body remained dark, but its heart, groin, and the base of the bone spikes protruding from its back—what humans called the tailbone—burned a vivid red.
The first two weak points made sense, but the last one was unexpected. So the Abomination had such a vulnerability? Hong Fei smirked. It seemed his decision to bombard it with cannons back then had been spot on. Maybe Hulk hadn't nearly strangled it to death—but impaled it from behind? He chuckled darkly. That was a terrifying thought.
As he deactivated the Eyes of Death and walked away, Ivan, Big Head, and the Abomination glanced furtively at the spot where he'd stood. A shiver ran through them. Their boss was becoming more terrifying by the day.
The Red Room base was mobile, but its speed left much to be desired. It would take months to fly it back over Sokovia. Hong Fei didn't have time to wait. After instructing Frank to keep a close eye on Taskmaster Antonia, he donned his flight armor and headed straight for New York. The Red Room was finished. The aerial base and the Black Widows were now background tasks, slow and methodical. Danny Rand was the main course of this feast.
New York. Danny and Harold lived in a mansion in Manhattan. Though the Rand Corporation was gone, Harold's wealth extended far beyond it. Even with the government freezing many of his surface assets, he still controlled countless shadowy businesses. Their hideout wasn't a secret to Hong Fei.
Hong Fei maintained constant surveillance with thirty operatives tracking their every move—monitoring their meals, their routines, their very breaths. Yet here, in this sprawling mansion, Harold continued his masterful performance, weaving his web of lies around Danny.
"The Rand Corporation is gone," Harold said, his voice heavy with feigned sorrow. "The events of that year... they were undoubtedly tied to our enemies. You haven't forgotten Ward and Joy, have you? They fell by the same hand. My time is nearly up, Danny. Everything I have is yours. Promise me you'll never speak of leaving again. My only wish is to live long enough to see justice served for Ward and Joy."
Danny stood rigid before him, fists clenched, his anger palpable. Harold pressed on, his voice cracking with manufactured regret. "Fifty-one percent of Rand Corporation's shares are yours. Your parents left them to you, and I failed to protect them. I... I'm truly sorry." Tears welled in his eyes, a performance so convincing it bordered on art. Danny stepped forward, his voice firm. "Uncle, don't say any more. I'm not going anywhere."
"At least before I find the enemy and complete my revenge, I won't leave," Danny declared, his resolve ironclad.
"Well, isn't this touching?" A voice sliced through the tension like a blade. Both men startled, Danny instinctively moving to shield Harold. His fist ignited, glowing a fierce red, translucent energy rippling through his skin. "Who's there?" he demanded, his voice sharp with warning.
From the shadows, Hong Fei emerged, his smile disarmingly casual. "Hello, Danny Rand," he greeted, as though they were old friends reuniting.