Hunter's Office – Grant Enterprises HQ
Hunter stood at the window of his private office, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a tablet. From his vantage point, he could see the rooftops, the city pulsing with life. Behind him, a low hum emanated from the security monitors and data flow.
The door opened. An aide named Shinzo stepped in, a man trained by Hiroshi himself.
"Sir, secretary from the mayor's office called. They want to discuss zoning issues on 33rd Avenue."
"Send them flowers and tell them I'll call next week."
He turned to Shinzo, with softer tone.
"And Shizo… make sure the new interns in analytics get proper desk placement. Don't put them next to the comms relay—Q's mess scares people."
"Understood, sir."
As Shinzo left, Hunter looked toward the city again.
This is what we're building.
And it's working.
He tapped his comm.
"Jiraiya, how are the Anbu adapting?"
"Like cats dropped in a fish tank. But they're swimming."
"Okay. I am not sure what it means but I assume they are doing good!"
Suddenly, there was a prompt which reminded him of quarterly internal meeting, which would be held in 15 mins., he hung up with Jiraiya and made his way towards conference room. The tall glass windows of the conference room offered a sweeping view of the New York skyline, the sunlight casting yellow glow across the modern interior of the conference room. Hunter sat at the head of a polished obsidian conference table, a data tablet in hand.
A digital clock on the wall ticked to 11:00 AM sharp. The room filled with key department heads and executives—legal, R&D, public relations, logistics, and international strategy. Each seat had its own interactive display and auto-transcriber system silently recording the meeting.
"Let's begin," Hunter said, voice calm.
The CFO, a sharp woman in early 40's named Madeline Shaw, began presenting the quarterly report. "Our revenue from clean energy has increased by 6.3%, largely due to European expansion. The AI research wing also closed three new military-adjacent contracts through subsidiaries."
Hunter nodded, scrolling through the projection. "Divert 15% of that increase into infrastructure security—reinforce the research labs, especially those involved with AI and energy cores. What about our new weapons manufacturing division? How's it coming along?"
Madeline replied, "We have recently started that division, we have acquired contracts but our major competitor is Hammer industries, we are just new to market so we will have to build trust and it would take time for that or we could..." she hesitated to speak, since the CEO is still in his early 20's she didn't think it was good to show the other side of business in front of him. Since all of this shady stuff would be taken care of by Hiroshi. So she thought that there is no need to speak here infront of everyone.
Hunter noticed and says, "Fell free to speak your mind, put your thoughts in front and that goes for everyone".
Madeline continued, "Or else we could fill up some pockets to get deep into business or you know… expose our competitors' incompetence." Hunter nodded to her, creating awkward silence.
Everyone in the room was experienced enough to know how the world worked and how the organizations need to act. They knew why the shell companies are required and how to maximize the profit. They are getting paid for that itself.
A tall man with a thick accent, Ivan Petrova, head of logistics and expansion, chimed into the silence. "Our supply chain remains stable, though we're monitoring rising tariffs in Southeast Asia." he also decided to speak boldly in front of new CEO, "Also, three shell acquisitions in the downtown zone were finalized this week."
"Prioritize silent integration. Public branding changes only after our backend systems are in place," Hunter replied.
A rather younger executive, Jasper Lin head of PR & media, leaned forward. "Mr. Grant, media inquiries have increased regarding our philanthropic ventures. Especially after your appearance at the Stark Foundation gala."
Hunter looked over the rim of his coffee cup. "Continue the soft-focus campaign. Highlight tech-for-good initiatives. Have Legal prep statements in case of deep dives into shell holdings." After thinking for a while, Hunter continued, "Coordinate with Madeline to look into Hammer industries. Hiroshi will also help you in that. Just run the plan through me once before taking any action."
Another executive, Dr. Lillian Monroe, head of Internal Culture & Security, brought up staff turnover and internal security.
"We've had a few minor access breaches nothing critical, but worth watching. Also, there's some unrest among lower-tier R&D workers about workload vs. compensation."
Hunter's tone shifted just slightly. "Have HR schedule pulse checks across departments. As for security, I want tiered clearance reviewed. If anyone's snooping beyond their pay grade, I want names."
Q, who was heading R&D division, spoke, "We have just integrated the systems with AI, the breaches won't be a problem, but we will need new servers for it to operate at its full potential, which I have ordered."
Hunter nodded. Q continued, "Along with arms, I will suggest we also start R&D for fighter planes and survey drones, we have a team capable of it."
Hunter tapped at his tablet and looked at the financials of Grant Enterprises and said, "Focus on drones first. As for fighter jets…. Let's wait for a bit"
Hunter turned towards Hiroshi, "Hiroshi make sure we get the major contracts for weapons manufacturing"
Hiroshi replied, "Yes, will it be fine to look into it after the audits are done. I actually don't want to keep any loose end in these, which might trace back to us" Hunter nodded in understanding.
As the meeting began to wrap, Hunter stood.
"I want all division leads to submit project summaries by end of the week. Flag anything that has potential beyond commercial use; especially in energy, surveillance, and material science. That's all."
The executives stood as he exited, several whispering about how the CEO of Grant Enterprises despite being young didn't just understand the corporate machine—he had it running like a war room.
Later that night, the common lounge of the Red Room was unusually relaxed. The harsh overhead lights were dimmed. A few Black Widows—Lana, Irina, Tess, and Yelena—lounged on the curved red sectional sofas in the lounge, nursing glasses of vodka or wine and still in their light tactical attire.
A training video played muted on the large holoscreen—a rerun of Ezio's last stealth assessment, which someone had looped for entertainment.
Lana rolled her eyes, sipping from her glass.
"Ezio walks like the world owes him silence. I swear, he doesn't even breathe during missions."
Tess laughed.
"It's the assassin flair. He probably glides through shadows for fun. But I'll admit—he's easy on the eyes."
Yelena raised a brow, lounging back with a small smirk.
"You like them brooding and mysterious, huh?"
Tess grinned.
"Don't we all?"
Irina, tying her silver-blonde hair into a bun, leaned forward.
"What about Jiraiya, though? His training is… unconventional."
Lana chuckled, shaking her head.
"Unconventional? He made us balance cups of water on our heads while dodging laser beams."
Yelena chimed in with a smirk.
"And still, it felt more effective than half the Soviet training we had. At least Jiraiya treats us like people—not machines."
Irina nodded thoughtfully.
"He's kind. Sharp, but kind. There's something… grounded about him."
They fell into a moment of contemplative silence, broken only by the soft clink of glass.
Tess, ever the bold one, raised a hand.
"Okay—real talk. Who's the most attractive in Aegis?"
The room buzzed with mock protests.
"Oh, come on."
"Do we have to pick just one?"
"Fine, go for your top two."
Lana looked up at the ceiling and whispered dramatically,
"Hunter. Obviously. Young, cute, smart as hell. That voice could convince me to betray my country—again. Second, might be Aizawa, he is practical and give off kind of dependable vibe, but he's kind of lazy."
Yelena grinned, toasting her glass.
"And here I thought you had a thing for Jiraiya."
Irina spoke softly.
"Jiraiya is… off-limits. Like the sun. You respect it from afar. For your own safety."
Tess wiggled her eyebrows.
"Ezio, for me. All quiet knives and smooth hands. You just know he knows what he's doing."
The girls burst into laughter.
Yelena, sipping from her wine, teased,
"Careful. I think he can hear praise through walls."
Lana leaned back with a sigh.
"You think we'll be deployed soon? I miss the field."
Irina nodded.
"Heard whispers. Something's brewing on the surface. Maybe infiltration. Some of the more experienced widows are already deployed."
Tess flexed her fingers, eyes gleaming.
"Good. I'm ready to stretch."
Yelena whispered, almost wistfully,
"I don't care where we go."
Next morning, the drills had just ended. The air inside the Red Room's indoor training room was thick with the scent of sweat, steel, and faint traces of lavender from Irina's ever-insistent essential oil habit. The Black Widows, fresh from a particularly intense sparring session, were scattered about the mat catching their breath.
Lana stretched her arms above her head, pulling her tank top just enough to show off her toned abs. Tess, lying flat on the mat, lazily raised a hand.
"Tell me again why we let Jiraiya run these sessions?"
"Because Ezio is not here," Sasha smirked, "and he actually talks during training."
"Talks or watches?" Tess replied, eyebrow raised.
That's when the sliding door hissed open.
Jiraiya stepped inside, arms crossed behind his back, grinning like he'd just walked into a sake bar run by swimsuit models. He took a long, dramatic pause, observing the scene in front of him—athletic, dangerously beautiful women lounging around in minimal gear after combat.
"Ah," he breathed with theatrical reverence. "A bouquet of deadly roses in full bloom."
Lana, not missing a beat, threw a towel at him, which Jiraiya dodged.
"Careful, sensei," she teased. "Stare too long and someone might think you're fantasizing again."
Jiraiya tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Well, I am a writer. Observation is crucial for character development. Purely professional, of course."
Tess, leaning back on her elbows, smirked.
"Character development, huh? You planning on writing about assassins in skin-tight uniforms now?"
"Oh," Jiraiya chuckled, "you'd be amazed at the plot depth I could give to a team like yours. It'd be… multi-layered."
Yelena raised an eyebrow.
"And by layers you mean…?"
"Tension. Mystery. Chemistry," he nodded sagely, then added with a mischievous smile, "And wardrobe malfunctions during stealth missions."
The group groaned in amused unison. Irina, who usually stayed quiet, crossed her arms and tilted her head.
"You know, if you spent half the time training us as you do imagining us, we might just surpass Ezio's squad."
Jiraiya, genuinely impressed, grinned.
"Now that's what I like to hear. A little competition. Maybe next time, I'll up the stakes."
"You had to say that!", complained one of the black widow.
"Like what?" Lana asked.
"Loser squad has to spar shirtless," he said with a straight face.
Another bottle flew at him.
Jiraiya dodged again, laughing heartily.
"All right, all right," he said, waving a hand. "Fun's over—for now. Gear up. We've got a stealth module at 1300. And someone please tell Ezio he owes me a round for handling this much firepower."
As he turned to leave, he paused at the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder.
"And for the record…" he grinned. "You all make better muses than most goddesses I've written about."
The door hissed shut behind him, and for a moment, the Widows just stared at each other.
Tess snorted.
"God, I hope he never changes."
The Red Room quieted as night fell. Most of the Widows had either retreated to their quarters or were off enjoying the rare moment of downtime. But in the lounge, where a low jazz track hummed in the background, Jiraiya sat by the window with a steaming cup of herbal tea. He was writing, as always—his pen dancing across the page of a thick, well-worn notebook.
The door creaked.
Yelena stepped in, her usual confidence.
"Didn't take you for a tea guy," she said casually.
Jiraiya glanced up with a faint smirk.
"What can I say, need to change some habits."
She chuckled and slid into the armchair across from him, propping one leg over the other.
"I've had worse habits."
A beat passed. He returned to his writing.
"You always write this much?" she asked, watching him.
"Writing on the wave of the times can never bring about the revolutionary change that we need to achieve peace. It's all about doing what matters even in the silent times... It's all about consistency."
"Must've filled volumes till now." said Yelena.
"You'd be surprised. Some of the most dangerous never said a word."
That piqued her interest. She leaned forward slightly, revealing her assets, her voice lowering just a little.
"So, what was it like? Before all of… this. Your world. You."
Jiraiya finally paused and looked up, his gaze calm, playful—but piercing.
"Is this curiosity… or espionage?"
Yelena smirked.
"Just a girl trying to know the man behind the perv."
He laughed.
"I've been called worse."
There was a flicker of silence—comfortable, almost.
Then Jiraiya leaned back.
"Why the interest?"
"Everyone around here either admires you or is wry of you," she said, twirling a ring on her finger. "I figured someone should find out why."
"And here I thought you just liked my poetry."
"Only if it rhymes with secrets."
Jiraiya raised a brow, then slowly shook his head.
"You're good," he said. "But you're still trying to get me to talk first."
"Is it working?"
"No," he said easily. "But I'll make you a deal. You tell me something real—something not in your file—and I'll tell you something about me that's not in any book."
Yelena hesitated. Her playfulness faded just a little, replaced by something raw. She leaned back knowing her seduction attempt was futile.
"I was six," she said quietly. "When they took me. Red Room doesn't ask nicely. They just take."
She looked down at her hands.
"They said my name was too soft. So they gave me a new one."
Jiraiya didn't interrupt.
"I've killed men twice my age before I was even allowed to wear makeup. And now… here I am. Still looking for something that makes me feel real."
A long pause followed.
Then, Jiraiya said quietly:
"You already are."
Yelena blinked.
"What?"
He smiled.
"Real. People who survive things like that don't lose their soul. They just forget how to hear it."
She swallowed. Her eyes softened.
"That's not in my file either."
"Good," he said. "Because I don't read files. I read people."
Another silence. Steady.
"Your turn," she finally said, voice softer.
"Someday," he replied, standing. "But not today."
As he passed, he patted her shoulder gently.
"Thanks for the talk, Yelena. You're more than they ever gave you credit for."
She didn't move for a long time.
But that night, for the first time in years, she slept without dreaming of blood.