Chapter 91: Madripoor

[ Restaurant ]

When the word "Nazis" slipped out of Maria's mouth, Sharon's attention pivoted so sharply it could've pulled a muscle. Her eyes sparkled with unfiltered curiosity as she leaned forward across the table. "Yeah, I was going to ask how do you even discovered the Nazis remnants in the first place?"

Daisy sipped her tea slowly, the corner of her lips twitching with an almost imperceptible smirk. "Oh, you know. Just stumbled across a intel. The usual Tuesday."

Sharon blinked. "You've got to be kidding me."

But Daisy didn't elaborate, leaving the air deliciously thick with unspoken mysteries.

After the meal, the three of them—Daisy, Hill, and Sharon—headed to the gym together. It wasn't exactly a date, but Daisy did catch Maria's eyes lingering during warm-ups. Still, after a few hours of punching bags and sparring drills, they each returned to their own corners of New York.

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[ Daisy's House, Manhattan, New York ]

Lying alone in her apartment, the silence pressing in like fog, Daisy stared at the ceiling in thought. Hill had insisted she wasn't bothered, had worn that cool, composed mask like a second skin. But Daisy knew better. Even if Hill didn't say it, her eyes had flickered with unease. And while Daisy had no intention of stepping on toes, she also wasn't about to tiptoe around her destiny.

She knows it herself: the next leader of S.H.I.E.L.D. had to be ruthless, thick-skinned, and always put their survival first. Someone who could argue with politicians, speak idealism to heroes, and trade secrets with villains.

Hill didn't have that edge—not yet. But Daisy? Daisy had already buried empires and smiled at the funeral.

As Nick Fury had already judged that Hill is not suitable for that position. With all kinds of open and covert attacks and various super-powered people in the future, it would be too dangerous for an ordinary person to stay in that position.

She was not going to back down. It didn't matter if she didn't know about competition. Now that she knew, there was no reason for her to give up. She would rather apologize later than surrender now.

It was nearly 1 A.M. when Daisy, finally shaking off her thoughts, stripped off her clothes and sank into a hot bath. The steam curled around her like mist around a queen, soft and slow.

The door cracked open.

"Miss, are you okay?"

The maid—Maki—stood in the doorway, cheeks flushed with sweat from her late-night training. Her concern was earnest, but her entrance was anything but subtle.

Daisy raised a brow, one arm draped along the tub's edge, wet hair clinging to her collarbone. "Maki, I admire the commitment, but if you pass out from overtraining, I'm not doing CPR. That's a line, even for me."

She wasn't exaggerating. A few days ago, Daisy had gifted Maki some ancient training scrolls salvaged from the Yashida files. The girl had taken them like holy scripture and gone full warrior monk—working by day, training by night. Swordsmanship, flexibility, stealth; Maki was evolving faster than Daisy had anticipated.

In pure swordplay, she might even be better than Daisy now. Not that Daisy would admit that aloud. Not yet.

Maki, still in the doorway, bowed deeply.

"Careful," Daisy murmured, eyes narrowing slightly. The maid wasn't wearing anything. And that angle… well, let's just say it offered more 'visual data' than Daisy was ready for.

"I'll help you with your back," Maki said briskly, recovering and stepping in with practiced confidence.

Daisy gave a small sigh, somewhere between indulgent and amused. After over a year together, she'd grown used to Maki's constant presence. The girl practically ran her life now—from hair and nails to full blown makeup.

Now, as she knelt beside the tub with a sponge, Maki spoke with the soft awe of a painter admiring a masterpiece.

"Miss… your skin is flawless."

"I drink water, eat chaos, and mind my business," Daisy replied dryly, lips curving. "Helps with the glow."

But Maki wasn't wrong. The Terrigenesis had burned away every imperfection. Her skin gleamed under the bathroom light, flawless and smooth. No birthmarks. No blemishes. No scars.

She looked like power carved from silk.

It wasn't a vanity thing—it was simply biology. Inhuman blood refined her. Even when she didn't try, she looked like someone you'd think twice before crossing.

And in a backless dress? Black Widow could seduce with a glance, and Viper could command a room with a whisper, but Daisy? Daisy made you want to kneel without knowing why.

After a few minutes, she thanked Maki and dismissed her. Wrapped in a soft bathrobe, she slipped into bed, letting sleep take her like the tide.

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[ Few Days Later ]

A few awkward, tension-filled days passed.

Then Viper called.

The panther—Erik Killmonger—had been found.

Daisy filed her leave from S.H.I.E.L.D. with her usual excuse: looking for her biological parents.

Of course, Nicky—aka Nick Fury—probably saw through the act. The man never trusted anyone. He'd known about Bucky for two decades and hadn't said a word to Cap. He believed in having as much as trump cards as possible like it was religion.

Daisy didn't mind pretending.

She suspected her mother and the Inhumans were in Attilan, on the moon. And unless Fury suddenly bought a spaceship, there was no way he'd find them. Her father, though—Mr. Hyde—was another story. She had a hunch he was locked up somewhere, maybe even in one of Fury's own vaults. But telling her? Nah. He'd hold onto that card until the timing suited him.

Fine. She could play the long game too.

With her usual flair for the dramatic, Daisy left Washington with a solemn face and headed to Madripoor.

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[ Madripoor ]

Madripoor is located at a transportation hub in Southeast Asia and is an island city that doesn't exist in her previous life.

There are high mountains in the center of the island and cliffs on the edges.

The city was chaos and charm stitched together. An island split in half—Upper Town glittering like gold-dipped lies, and Lower Town stinking of blood, oil, and desperation.

Pirates once ruled here. Now, it was run by fugitives, arms dealers, spies, and smugglers. And at the heart of it all? Viper's gang.

The Port of Madripoor was a teeming sea of steel ships and desperate faces. People flowed like currents—traders, mercenaries, diplomats, and the occasional wide-eyed tourist who wouldn't last the night.

Like Jerusalem, you can see spies from major countries in the world hanging around here, exchanging intelligence or spending money and getting drunk.

The upper town is decorated extremely luxuriously. All major banks have branches here, and there are many hotels.

Daisy blended in like a pro. Coat tied around her waist, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, and a backpack that was definitely not regulation-approved. Inside it? A sword and shield, courtesy of SHIELD's metal-evading tech and her very confident FBI ID.

No one stopped her.

Soon, she arrived at the King Hotel—ostentatious name, equally ostentatious design. A staff member escorted her to the top floor.

Viper was already there, lounging like a queen snake on a velvet throne.

As Daisy entered, Viper's eyes rolled theatrically. "Really, darling? That outfit? You trying to seduce or sedate?"

Daisy offered a smile as dry as desert bone. "Not everyone needs fishnets to be lethal."

Viper stood, hips swaying like a pendulum of sin. "Let me educate you. Observe: new battle suit, freshly tailored."

She turned, letting Daisy get the full panoramic view. The design hadn't changed much—still that signature bellyband style, bold enough to qualify as a war crime—but this version had less thigh armor and more thigh.

"I see," Daisy said. "Strategically vulnerable in all the right places."

Viper smirked. "Exactly. A little danger, a lot of leg."

Daisy's gaze flicked up. "You're missing shin guards. Or is that the fashion now?"

"I'd rather get stabbed than look boring," Viper replied, flipping her hair.

"Noted," Daisy said. "Though personally, I like my vital organs covered. But to each their own."

To Be Continued...

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