Sherlock had no idea that the one-eyed cue ball had already forced his name into the so-called Avengers Initiative.
The moment the front door closed, his expression darkened.
The reason was simple: his peaceful life probably would not remain peaceful for much longer!
S.H.I.E.L.D.
might officially be a government agency, but anyone familiar with the future knew what it really was at this point—Hydra wearing a S.H.I.E.L.D.
uniform.
If S.H.I.E.L.D.
had noticed him, then Hydra almost certainly had as well.
That was precisely why Sherlock had agreed to help rescue Tony.
He needed to demonstrate enough power that Hydra would either leave him alone or, at the very least, carefully consider the price of making an enemy of him.
Only then could he continue enjoying his quiet little life.
Tony’s rescue offered the perfect opportunity.
The risk was low, the potential reward was high, and Sherlock had no real reason to refuse.
Of course, demonstrating his strength did not mean revealing everything.
There was an enormous difference between an ordinary “sorcerer” and an alchemist capable of mass-producing artifacts that allowed normal people to wield or borrow supernatural power.
It did not take a genius to understand which of the two Hydra would value more.
Corporations were willing to trample over anything for a large enough return.
Expecting Hydra’s leadership to possess stronger morals would have been laughable.
Honestly, if Sherlock had not just repaired the Holy Lance of Longinus—and if the lance had not been capable of disguising his alchemy as magic—he would never have accepted the mission.
Was part of him also excited to test the first divine artifact he had ever owned?
Yes.
But that was absolutely not the main reason.
Probably.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced Sherlock became that the Ancient One had set him up.
Everything had begun with the damaged Holy Lance she had given him after watching him for five years.
The thought that an innocent baby only a few hundred months old had been deceived by a centuries-old fossil made Sherlock want to march straight into Kamar-Taj and demand an explanation.
The urge passed quickly.
Picking a fight with the Ancient One on her own turf would not be brave.
It would be an elaborate form of suicide!
Sherlock was still considering how to rescue Tony when John and Helen opened his front door and walked inside.
When Helen saw him sitting silently at the dining table, staring at the news, concern immediately crossed her face.
“Sherlock, what happened?
Who were those men in black?” Only then did Sherlock notice their arrival.
Seeing the concern in their eyes, he made no attempt to hide anything and openly explained what Coulson had asked of him, along with his concerns about S.H.I.E.L.D.
John took the news reasonably well.
As a former assassin, he knew far more than most people about the world’s hidden organizations and the darkness ordinary civilians never saw.
Helen was another matter.
By the time Sherlock finished explaining, she was furious.
When she learned that Coulson had, intentionally or otherwise, tried to use Doro as leverage, Helen transformed into an enraged lioness!
No one doubted that if Coulson returned at that moment, she would charge outside and tear him apart with her bare hands.
John’s anger was much quieter.
Once he realized that S.H.I.E.L.D.
had found Sherlock because of an artifact Sherlock had created to help him, guilt settled over his face.
“I’m sorry, Sherlock.
I brought this trouble to your door.” Sherlock waved dismissively.
“Relax, Johnny Wick.
I always knew this day would come.
I just didn’t expect it to arrive this soon.” He was not lying.
Sherlock had arrived in the Marvel Universe with the power of alchemy.
Unless he never used it at all, discovery had always been inevitable.
Besides, if the entire situation truly had begun with the divine artifact the Ancient One brought him, then from her perspective, this was probably the best possible path through the future.
Sherlock might have acted unconcerned, but John could not dismiss it so easily.
Now that he knew he was partly responsible, there was no chance he would simply stand aside.
He did not even react to being called Johnny Wick.
After lowering his head and thinking for a long moment, John suddenly looked up, his decision made.
“I’m coming with you to the Middle East, Sherlock.
We may never have exchanged a Marker, but I still owe you.” Sherlock rolled his eyes so hard they nearly disappeared into his skull.
He stared at John with open disdain before finally answering.
“Forget it.
The entire underworld spent years afraid you might return, and now they’re equally afraid you actually will.
If you follow me into this mess, getting out again won’t be easy.
Besides, the Elder of the High Table is most likely hiding somewhere in a desert in that region.
You’re a living legend.
The moment John Wick appears in the Middle East—especially anywhere near a desert—the High Table will start asking questions, whether your visit has anything to do with the Continental or not.
You know better than I do how much trouble an open contract can cause.” As he spoke, Sherlock glanced toward Helen and the Doro resting in her arms.
He did not need to say anything more.
Sherlock refused to let John come because whatever debt might exist between them mattered far less than Helen.
John’s first responsibility should be to the people beside him and the family he loved.
Besides, they were only dealing with a group of terrorists.
Sherlock might have felt some uncertainty before, but now that he possessed a divine artifact, any number of ordinary gunmen would simply be volunteering to die.
There was no reason to treat the mission like a war.
What Sherlock had not expected was that the strongest objection would come not from John, but from Helen.
“No, Sherlock,” she said firmly.
“Friends support each other, no matter what happens.
And this began because John lost something you made to help him.
So please—whatever else you decide, don’t refuse to let him stand beside you.”