Marvel: I am Iron Man

At 3:30 a.m., Nick Fury had already arrived at Stark's residence and was sitting face-to-face with Tony Stark on the sofa in the living room.

Two agents were carrying boxes of research materials and other documents from outside into the living room.

"Be careful not to touch that flowerpot." Tony, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, waved to the two agents who were acting as movers. "That flowerpot is quite expensive... oh, and that painting on the wall behind it. That painting is worth ten million dollars too..."

Fury stared at him expressionlessly. Tony smiled at him.

"When did you first find out?" Nick Fury asked.

Tony: "Know what?"

"Howard Stark's keepsake at S.H.I.E.L.D.," Fury said. "Who told you that?"

Tony tilted his head, pretending to be deep in thought.

"Let me think... One day my dad appeared to me in a dream and told me I must find a Black man with only one eye..."

Fury crossed his arms and leaned back into the leather sofa.

"Agent Romanov's judgment was correct," he said.

Tony asked, "What's wrong?"

"I underestimated you, we all underestimated you," Nick Fury said. "Cunning, cynical playboy...that's all just an act, isn't it? You think much more than you appear, Stark. I'll remember that."

He didn't really like the pace of today's conversation.

He is Nick Fury, an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and probably the person in the world who knows the most secrets (besides the fact that he himself manages a bunch of Hydras).

He usually takes the initiative in conversations with anyone. Because he always has more information and is more confident than the other person, he can easily guide the direction of the conversation.

But today is different.

Today, standing before Tony Stark, he felt a long-forgotten sense of passivity. He simply couldn't discern how much intelligence the other possessed, or where that intelligence came from.

He didn't like this feeling.

"There's one more thing," Tony sat up straight. "The Red Room. My bodyguard has already told me about your conversation with that little red girl."

"Little Red?" Fury paused for a moment, then quickly realized that it was Tony's nickname for Natasha, who had red hair.

"Little Red said you know about the Red House and have its address." Tony tilted his head. "Is that true?"

"That's confidential," Fury said.

Tony met his gaze for a few seconds, then sighed softly, "Okay. Actually, it's not that I can't understand. I'm sure someone in your position has a lot to consider."

"You have to consider alliances and counterbalances, the checks and balances between various forces, and the overall impact, blah blah blah. It's definitely not easy..."

Tony paused, then his eyes seemed to sharpen. "But unfortunately, I'm not you, nor am I in your position. So you see, Nick, from my perspective, things aren't that complicated."

Nick Fury's expression twitched almost imperceptibly upon hearing this.

What did this guy just call me? Nick?

Tony continued, "The situation is that there's a group of people who want to kill me, but they haven't succeeded yet. So, with a gun pointed at me, I have no choice but to take some necessary measures in self-defense. It's that simple."

"Either you do me this small favor, and I'll owe you one. Or if you don't help, I'll just have to figure it out myself. But either way, I always manage to solve the problem, don't you think, Nick?"

Fury's eyebrow twitched again.

He then took a deep breath and stood up from the sofa.

"Jarvis will receive the Red Room's information within half an hour," Fury said coldly, his hands in his trench coat pockets. "But don't get me wrong. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't deliberately letting the Red Room go unchecked; this is called playing the long game."

We believe the Red Room is involved in dealings with other, more dangerous and clandestine organizations. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s continued observation is simply a matter of waiting for an opportunity, nothing more. Also, there's one more thing…”

He turned and, before leaving the living room, emphasized his final words.

"If you call me Nick again, believe me... next time we might not be able to sit down and talk like this."

Tony smiled, revealing a sunny and friendly smile.

"Got it. Thanks, Nick."

Fury: "..."

As they left Stark's residence, Agent Coulson, who had been waiting outside, approached and walked alongside the grim-faced Director Fury, asking, "Director Fury, telling him this classified information won't...?"

"It's alright," Fury said, his hands in his pockets. "The Red Room is still under surveillance, but it's been designated a secondary target, and we can move it out now. If Stark is willing to do it, it saves us a lot of trouble."

Besides, don't you want to take a look?

Coulson was taken aback: "What?"

Fury rarely showed a smile: "This is a good opportunity to see just how capable Stark's fancy new armor technology really is."

...

...

Even today, Natasha Romanov still thinks about her childhood from time to time.

In her memory, it was a kitchen that seemed to be perpetually bathed in twilight. She also remembered her mother deliberately cutting pickled cucumbers crookedly, her father lifting her chin with his vodka-scented hands, and her crybaby sister sometimes smearing secretly hidden jam on the tip of her nose.

Those laughs are like melted toffee, stuck in my memory for twenty years and still won't dissipate.

Yes, looking back now, it was all just a mirage. She never truly had a family.

A hapless super soldier father obsessed with missions, a spy mother, and himself and his sister who exist only to increase the credibility of the undercover family—it's just a hodgepodge of characters.

Even if it was pieced together from various sources, even if it was only this much, it was still the closest she had ever come to the concept of "home" in her life.

In S.H.I.E.L.D., Black Widow is a legendary figure. In the eyes of rookie agents, her image is almost mythical. Everyone knows that she has top-notch abilities and top-notch technology, can disguise herself as anyone and adapt to any identity, and brilliantly completes the seemingly impossible tasks assigned to her by the director.

Newcomers idolize her and aspire to be like her. They constantly imagine what the legendary agent Black Widow is like outside of her work.

Perhaps she lives in a mansion, sails a yacht, lazily sunbathes on a turquoise beach, and waits for the next world-saving phone call to inform her that her vacation is over—just like the agents in the movies.

But in reality, none of this was her life.

Outside of her work at S.H.I.E.L.D., she's actually an extremely boring person. Practicing boxing at the gym and shooting at the shooting range basically constitutes her entire free time.

She spent most of the rest of her time in her empty apartment, staring blankly at a faded family photo of the four of them that she had always treasured.

When the task requires it, she can be adept at social maneuvering and charming everyone around her, becoming the most eye-catching star at a banquet and attracting the attention of all the men present.

Ironically, when all the masks of identity and all the disguises are removed, this super agent, who has mastered all social skills and is good at quickly integrating into any circle, is always alone in real life.

In that fabricated family of the past, there was only one person who cared about her the most and was the most real to her.

That was her sister, Yelena.

Yelena was Natasha's only real sister in that childhood game of make-believe. Because Yelena was the only one in the family of four, she naively believed they were truly a family until the truth came out.

Over the years, Natasha firmly believed that the Red House had been destroyed. She always felt that Yelena had probably escaped the shadows of her childhood, gotten back on track, and was living a normal life.

But Natasha never dared to try to find her, because Natasha always had a bad feeling.

It's as if if she actually went to find Yelena, even just to inquire or catch a glimpse of her from afar, it would drag her back into her own bloody and turbulent world.

But today, she learned that the Red House had not been destroyed.

So Yelena must still be alive today...

Thinking of this, Natasha clenched her fists involuntarily.

In this world, there is only Yelena... only this former sister, whom she does not want to see hurt again.

If Yelena were still imprisoned and trapped in that hellish Red House, I would risk my life to rescue her no matter what.

Even if this is the last mission of my life.

S.H.I.E.L.D. did not disclose any information about the Red Room to Natasha. However, given Natasha's level of access within S.H.I.E.L.D., her understanding of the system, and her technical skills, there was very little she couldn't find out, except for top-secret information accessible only to Director Fury.

She just never asked about things she shouldn't have known before.

With almost no effort, Natasha quickly obtained the information she needed from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. The Red Room's operational status over the years, its exact location, and even several backup plans for infiltrating the Red Room headquarters had been prepared—which was indeed very much in line with Director Fury's style.

Planning ahead. Although Fury hasn't planned to touch the Red Room yet, he's already considered infiltration methods and attack strategies. This way, even if he suddenly decides to eliminate them one day, he has the strength to take them down swiftly and decisively.

This saved Natasha the trouble of devising an action plan.

Director Fury ordered her to withdraw from the mission and not interfere anymore. Since joining S.H.I.E.L.D., she had never once disobeyed Director Fury's orders.

But this time, she's going to make an exception.

Because she had already made up her mind.

Today, she is going to make a clean break with the Red House and with her past.