The castle loomed high above Sokovia's landscape. To the left, the lake stretched out, its surface shimmering with ripples that mirrored the surrounding mountains and peaks. "Mr. Hong," the planner began, gesturing toward the water, "our plan is to use the lake's plane as a reference. We'll level the mountains to the front-left of the castle, creating a flat area spanning over ten thousand square meters."
He continued, pointing further out. "Beyond the lake, we'll let the terrain rise gradually. We'll preserve the original scenery and vegetation while maximizing usable space. Since you mentioned there won't be many residents, we've designated large open areas as pastures and forests. This maintains the aesthetics and allows for future flexibility."
The Rabbit's team had moved swiftly, delivering the first draft of the planning map along with a representative to explain the details. Their design transformed most of the 38-square-kilometer area into agricultural, forestry, and livestock pastures, concentrating residential zones around the lake. This approach aligned with Hong Fei's vision of limited population, maximizing economic potential while ensuring the land retained its value and natural beauty.
"Very good," Hong Fei said, leaning casually against the railing with a smile. "I like this design." His mind wandered—pastures for horses, farms for the disobedient. The idea of troublemakers toiling with hoes amused him. He listened for another half hour, satisfied with the presentation, then turned to Big Head. "Take it from here," he said, stepping aside. The next steps—construction details and pricing—were straightforward.
High above, a massive metal Base hovered vertically over the lake, tens of thousands of meters in the air. This positioning avoided any risk of collision with the castle below. Renovations were underway, transforming the formerly gloomy Red Room into something brighter and more functional. Its superior secrecy made it an ideal location for Big Head and Ivan's laboratories, while Abomination remained a permanent resident. Dr. Helen Cho's larger lab, housing many ordinary researchers, stayed underground.
Dreykov had left behind a fleet of fighter jets. Though some were destroyed in the attack, ten remained. While not on par with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Quinjets, they surpassed most aircraft in the world, excelling in space and VTOL capabilities. The Black Widows, once tightly controlled, had been recalled. With their chemical restraints lifted and the Red Room destroyed, their hatred faded. Many, lost and adrift, chose to retire.
These women had been thrust into the Red Room as children, subjected to brutal, bloody training. Years of forced servitude had left their hands stained and their minds clouded. Now free, it was only natural they sought to reclaim their lives. Hong Fei didn't begrudge them their departure. With the Red Room's Base secured, he also inherited its cash and gold reserves.
There wasn't much cash, less than a hundred million, but the fifteen tons of gold more than made up for it. Other assets—stocks, real estate, and funds—required laundering before they could be tapped. Their total value exceeded a hundred million. Dreykov's wealth was undoubtedly greater, but no more could be extracted.
Keeping him alive would have been pointless—he couldn't have transferred the funds quickly enough, and letting him live ran counter to Hong Fei's interests. No regrets there. With Dreykov's fortune as his foundation, Hong Fei gifted each departing Black Widow tens of millions in assets and several heavy gold bars. Every expression of gratitude sent an odd ripple of reinforcement through his body.
Strange. Charity donations had never provoked this reaction before. Within a month, over a thousand Black Widows from overseas had returned to the Base. Hong Fei distributed roughly half of Dreykov's remaining wealth and gold. That still left more than five hundred who chose to stay.
"Yelena, they're yours now."
"Mm."
She hesitated, then caught up to him. "What was your angle? You knew they were leaving, yet you handed them fortunes for nothing?"
"Not my money to begin with. Dreykov's stash. By rights, it belonged to them—to all of you." A man could love wealth, but only if he took it the proper way. What wasn't his, he wouldn't keep. Blind greed led to empty hands in the end.
Consider their lives: children abandoned or stolen by the Red Room, raised like machines, forced to fight their peers in bloody contests, burdened with sins not their own. No matter their gender or race, people shaped like that deserved pity. Dreykov's money at least gave them a chance—these women who'd never known normal society could use their skills and sudden wealth to blend into the civilian world.
Setting aside karma or good deeds, the physical boost was real. Every ounce of strength gained meant another ounce of Dragon Power at his disposal. Besides, if Master Hong needed cash, he knew where to find it. The weapons beneath the castle were practically gathering dust.
Yelena's gaze lingered on Hong Fei's back, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"Where's Natasha?"
The smile vanished. She rolled her eyes. "Dead."
Hong Fei pressed, "Where's she buried? I'll pay my respects."
Yelena scoffed. "Not even bones left!"
He chuckled. "Careful with those words. What if they come true?"
She stiffened but doubled down. "So?"
"You'll cry."
"Never."
Hong Fei shook his head and changed tack. "Your parents?"
"Foster parents. Fake ones." Her nose wrinkled. "Third floor, glued to each other like lovesick idiots. Natasha couldn't stand it and left."
He understood. Alexei had spent decades in prison; Melina had stayed single. Two repressed people finally together? Like fire meeting kindling.
If Alexei put in the effort, maybe they'd give Natasha and Yelena a younger sibling. Though he wondered if Melina's body could still handle it—then again, given Alexei's current state, it might be a stretch.
"Tell Melina to visit Dr. Cho at the castle when she has time. Alexei should go see Frank."
Melina was a biology expert in her own right. Even if her specialty differed, she'd be an asset to the 'Regeneration Cradle' project. Age had dulled Alexei's Super Soldier edge, but he still outclassed most men in their prime.
Joining Hong Fei's "Squad of Villains" came with an added perk—command over 120 elite operatives. Yelena acknowledged the assignment with a nod and trailed Hong Fei to the top floor of the Base. Just before opening the door, Hong Fei turned abruptly. "Why are you following me?"
"Aren't you going to assign the remaining Black Widows?" Yelena countered.
"How would you assign them?" he asked, his tone probing.
Yelena blinked, caught off guard. "How should I know your plans? They were embedded in secret agencies or alongside politicians worldwide. If you need their expertise, you could send them back to continue their previous missions."
"No," Hong Fei replied flatly. While such operations had their merits, they didn't align with his goals. His path wasn't espionage or subversion—though, on second thought, it wasn't entirely out of the question. A smile tugged at his lips. "Are any of them embedded in the U.S.?"
"Of course," Yelena answered without hesitation. "What do you have in mind?"
"Nothing immediate. Since they're reluctant to leave, send them all to North America. Focus on New York. S.H.I.E.L.D. is fair game—there's an academy there. Get more operatives with clean identities in. And remind Natasha not to interfere."
"No problem," Yelena said, nodding. "But do you have a specific target?"
"Not yet. Start with armed forces—military, police, agents. Ideally, we'll have our own people near their key figures. Speed isn't the priority; focus on safety, stability, and avoiding suspicion."
"Understood," Yelena replied, though her eyes narrowed. "Your idea is dangerous."
"Nonsense," Hong Fei said with a chuckle. "I'm looking out for their safety." Yelena laughed, and Hong Fei joined in.
The thought of five hundred Black Widows infiltrating the U.S. was thrilling. Even if two were equivalent to one Natasha, that meant two hundred and fifty operatives. If five equaled one, there'd still be a hundred. The potential was staggering. "Use what's left of Dreykov's funds for operating capital. Coordinate with Frank."
"Got it. I'll head out then." Hong Fei nodded and pushed the door open.
The room bore no resemblance to Dreykov's former office. It had been transformed into a sleek, tech-infused residence. A spacious living room dominated the center, and behind a gray sofa stood a figure clad in Taskmaster gear. "Antonia? Why are you here?" Hong Fei asked, surprised. She hadn't removed her equipment, and from the outside, it was impossible to tell a woman was inside.
Antonia opened her mask, revealing her face and the hideous scar marring one side. "I don't know what to do," she said blankly.
"Do whatever you want," Hong Fei replied. "If you're done fighting, Ivan can remove the chip in your head. Someone else could use it—and the gear—without wasting anything."
Antonia shook her head, her gaze steady. "I need my skills. I can handle it."
"Don't you find it exhausting?"
"No. And I want the power to protect myself."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Then report to Frank. He'll arrange things for you. But we don't have missions every day. You'll need to find hobbies."
Antonia's brow twitched—whether it was a frown or something else was unclear. Hong Fei added, "If you can't figure it out on your own, talk to others. Dr. Cho, Jessica, Yelena—any of them."
"I will," Antonia said, nodding firmly.
After putting down her mask, she was once again the efficient and sharp Taskmaster. Once she left, Hong Fei lay back, his soul entering the Dragon Power space to continue his relentless, invisible training.