In a damp, shadowed alley deep in Hell’s Kitchen, New York, a tall, broad-shouldered Japanese-American man stood with a black raven perched calmly on his shoulder.
Across from him was a striking Slavic woman.
Platinum-blonde hair framed a face that could have belonged on a magazine cover, and despite the plain clothes she wore, nothing could hide the effortless elegance of her figure.
The two looked completely out of place in the filthy alley.
Alvin Satō sighed.
“Miss, let’s be clear about something.” His expression remained perfectly serious, unaffected by the breathtaking woman standing inches away.
“I did save your life, but it was pure coincidence.
You thank me, we go our separate ways, and that’s the end of it.” The woman clutched the collar of her shirt with both hands, panic filling her emerald eyes.
“But…
I don’t know where to go.” Her voice trembled.
“I don’t remember anything about my past.
The only thing I know is waking up after you pulled me out of the ocean.” The vulnerable expression would have melted most men.
Alvin wasn’t most men.
His gaze drifted past her toward a nearby dumpster.
Several street thugs lay sprawled beside it, their limbs bent at unmistakably unnatural angles.
They were alive, but deeply unconscious.
He let out a long, weary breath.
She had appeared far too openly, and her performance wasn’t even particularly convincing.
Almost as if she already knew he couldn’t simply walk away.
Finally, Alvin spread his hands.
“Let’s skip the act, Miss Natasha Romanoff.” His voice was flat.
“What exactly do you…
or the people behind you…
want?” He knew exactly who she was.
Former Red Room operative.
One of the Soviet Union’s deadliest assassins.
Now an agent of SHIELD.
And despite looking like a woman in her twenties, she was probably well over eighty years old.
Natasha showed no surprise that her identity had been exposed.
Instead, she casually brushed a strand of platinum hair behind one ear, lifted her chin, and the frightened amnesiac disappeared.
In her place stood the confident, dangerously charming superspy.
“Mr.
Alvin Satō,” she said with an amused smile, “before we discuss that…
perhaps you’d tell me how you recognized me.” Her smile widened.
“Because you’ve officially become someone we’re interested in.” That was exactly what Alvin couldn’t understand.
Why was SHIELD interested in him?
He had arrived in this world three years earlier, and since then he’d done everything possible to stay invisible.
As far as he knew, he’d never done anything worth attracting the attention of an organization like SHIELD.
In his previous life, he had been Tanaka Kenta.
An ordinary Japanese salaryman with an ordinary life.
A wife.
A son.
Nothing remarkable.
His death had been almost laughably absurd.
While moving apartments, he’d discovered an old laptop buried beneath his bed, one he’d used back in high school.
Against all expectations, it still powered on.
Feeling nostalgic, he’d installed one of his favorite classics, Diablo II.
Being the sort of player who believed games were more enjoyable with a few…
enhancements, he’d downloaded a character editor.
Then he’d created the perfect Druid.
Every base attribute set to twenty.
Every summoning skill maxed.
An expanded inventory packed with high runes.
A fully upgraded stash.
Naturally, he’d also given himself the Horadric Cube.
The plan had been simple.
Spend a relaxing evening flooding monsters with summoned beasts while reliving old memories.
Instead…
The ancient laptop exploded the instant the modified character loaded.
When he opened his eyes again, Tanaka Kenta had become Alvin Satō.
Along with him came everything he’d given that Druid.
Or almost everything.
After discovering he’d awakened inside the Marvel Universe, Alvin had made a decision.
Keep his head down.
If there was no way home, then he’d live this life quietly.
Run the family restaurant.
Avoid superheroes.
Avoid villains.
Most importantly…
Avoid organizations like SHIELD.
The strange inheritance from Diablo II had granted him all ten abilities from the Druid’s Summoning skill tree, but he’d never displayed them publicly.
So why had SHIELD found him?
It made no sense.
He was just the owner of a Chinese restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen.
Still…
Judging from Natasha’s earlier comments, she hadn’t originally come looking for him.
That was at least somewhat reassuring.
The fewer dealings he had with a global intelligence agency, the happier he’d be.
“The day I pulled you out of the water,” Alvin said evenly, “someone called your name through your earpiece.” “I took you to a hospital.” “That’s all.” He looked her directly in the eye.
“Miss Romanoff…
I don’t like trouble.” “And anything involving spies usually brings a great deal of it.” He gave a small wave, clearly intending to end the conversation.
Natasha touched the communicator hidden in her ear.
She listened silently for about twenty seconds.
Finally she nodded.
“I suppose I really should thank you for dragging me out of the ocean.” She smiled.
“So…
thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Alvin turned slightly toward the mouth of the alley.
“Can I leave now?
I need to get back to my restaurant.” He had no intention of trying to out-act one of the greatest spies in history.
That would have been idiotic.
Being straightforward was far safer.
Natasha studied him thoughtfully before biting her lower lip, almost out of habit.
“You weren’t my mission target.” She smiled again.
“But your restaurant happens to be in a very convenient location for getting close to mine.” Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder.
She leaned closer.
“I don’t suppose you’d object to hiring a beautiful waitress?” Before she could get any closer, Alvin shivered violently.
He immediately stepped backward and raised one hand between them.
“Stop.” His refusal was absolute.
Knowing she looked twenty-five didn’t change the fact that she was over eighty.
That thought alone completely destroyed any romantic atmosphere.
His expression hardened.
“Miss Romanoff.” “Please show some respect.” “I don’t care what you or SHIELD are planning.” “But stay away from my restaurant.” “I helped you because you needed help.” “I’d appreciate it if you’d return the favor by keeping trouble away from me.” “Hell’s Kitchen already has enough problems.” He pointed toward the unconscious gang members lying beside the dumpster.
It hardly looked as though Natasha had been taking this mission seriously.
If anything, she’d been going through the motions.
Natasha’s expression shifted.
Very few people rejected her outright.
That alone made the restaurant owner far more interesting.
She straightened her collar.
When she spoke again, the warmth had disappeared from her voice.
“Alvin Satō.” “Japanese-American.” “Orphaned at eight after your parents died in a street shootout.” “You were raised in an orphanage.” “At eighteen, you returned to Hell’s Kitchen and inherited the Chinese restaurant your parents left behind.” A cold smile crossed her lips.
“Within a month…” “Every person involved in that shooting died.” “One after another.” She held his gaze.
“So tell me, Mr.
Satō.” “How do you think that happened?” Alvin merely shrugged.
“No idea.” “If you ever find whoever did it, let me know.” “I’d like to write them a thank-you letter.” He smiled faintly.
“Or, if you’re planning to report it, I can lend you my phone.” “Dial 911.” Natasha looked at him with open sarcasm.
“The police may not care about dead criminals.” “But the local gangs certainly care.” “They’d be very interested in learning how two powerful organizations vanished without a trace.” Her threat hit harder than Alvin expected.
Not because he feared it.
Because it angered him.
Just days ago, he’d pulled her from the ocean.
Apparently that meant nothing.
To someone like Natasha Romanoff, the mission always came first.
Or perhaps this was simply retaliation for refusing to cooperate.
The raven perched on Alvin’s shoulder sensed his rising anger.
It let out two harsh caws before launching into the air, circling silently above the alley.
Alvin looked directly into Natasha’s eyes.
When he spoke again, every word carried an icy edge.
“So that’s how you repay the person who saved your life?” “A SHIELD agent threatens a law-abiding citizen.” “Who gave you that authority?” He took one deliberate step forward.
“Now here’s what I want.” “You.” “And everyone with you.” “Get out of my neighborhood.” His voice echoed through the narrow alley.
“This is Hell’s Kitchen.” “I hate trouble.” A brief pause.
“But I’ve never been afraid of it.”