Chapter Eighteen: Scarlett and Natasha

After several attempts to make contact, Nick Fury still hadn’t responded. Natasha was about to try another method when, with a clear chime, the clock struck eight in the evening.

Her breath quickened—there it was again. Three times in a single day: four in the morning, twelve noon, eight at night. Each interval exactly eight hours! There was something wrong, absolutely wrong.

She tried a few more times to reach someone, anyone, but failed. Slipping two more grenades under her dress, she drew a deep breath, straightened her clothes, and stepped out the door.

Her quarters were on the top deck of the cruise ship, among the most luxurious suites. Usually, outside of nighttime hours, there would be a single attendant on standby in the corridor. But as Natasha left, she found it deserted—a situation that only occurred when the staff was severely lacking.

What had happened on the ship?

With this question in mind, she made her way downstairs, where she saw guest after guest in evening attire.

Another banquet tonight?

“Miss Scarlett Johansson, you’re coming down? The banquet has already started. Shall I escort you?” Corry approached with his professional smile—the very man who had invited “Scarlett” onto the cruise.

“No need,” Natasha replied with a cool glance. “What’s the point of two banquets in a row? You’d do better to speed up the ship. Don’t waste my time.”

Corry blinked twice. “You misunderstand. We’re not holding another banquet tomorrow—just this one tonight. After all, everyone’s just boarded. It’s only right to provide an environment for socializing, isn’t it?”

Just one banquet? Just boarded?

A realization dawned on Natasha—something extraordinary was going on. She wanted to ask more, but feared saying something wrong due to her lack of information, so she remained silent and walked toward the banquet hall.

An hour later, Natasha left the banquet early and headed to her room, now utterly unsure what expression she should wear. The flow of the banquet, the guests, the types and arrangement of food—every detail was exactly as she remembered.

She wondered: Had she traveled into the past, or had she suddenly foreseen the future?

As she pondered, a sudden rush of air sounded behind her.

Her reflexes took over; Natasha rolled to the ground and spun around—only to find herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

What shocked her even more was that the person holding the weapon was herself—Scarlett Johansson’s face to a fault. Yet the real Scarlett was dead, impossible to appear on this ship.

In that instant, a spark flashed across Natasha’s mind, linking all the information she’d gathered.

“Black Widow? Natasha? Did Nick Fury send you?” Natasha spoke first, watching for any chance to counterattack as she did so.

But there was none—not that she was surprised. After all, this was likely another version of herself.

The other woman said nothing. Natasha knew what she herself would do in such a situation, so she pressed on, bluntly recounting some messy incidents involving Nick Fury, Coulson, and Hawkeye.

“Who are you really?” Scarlett finally spoke. No outsider could possibly know all these details, much less with such precision.

“I’m you. After all that, can I take off the mask?” Natasha asked.

“Strip. Take off all your clothes,” Scarlett ordered.

Natasha complied without hesitation, removing her clothes piece by piece. She knew how to guard against an attack while undressing—so she also knew how to convincingly make herself incapable of counterattack.

Scarlett was stunned. The woman before her matched her figure exactly, the spots where she concealed weapons identical.

“Now do you believe me? The special solvent to remove the mask is in my room, but since you just boarded, you have it on you,” Natasha said, utterly unembarrassed by her nudity—if anything, she seemed even more at ease.

Scarlett hesitated a moment, then tossed the solvent over.

Half a minute later, the mask was peeled away, revealing Natasha’s true face.

“I know you’re not yet fully convinced, so let me ask you a question—or never mind, I know myself. The attendant on duty at this hour is already dead, isn’t he? The body thrown into the sea?”

“No,” Scarlett lowered her gun, apparently at least partially convinced. “Hidden. Because there’s something in the sea.”

“Something in the sea?” Natasha paused, then waved her hand and gathered up her clothes. “Let’s talk inside. Last time, everyone was at the banquet, but just in case.”

The advantage of capable teammates was clear—Natasha didn’t even need to ask about surveillance. If “she” had chosen this spot for an ambush, all other preparations would have been made.

Inside the room, Natasha conducted her routine sweep. There had been no listening devices when she left, but precautions were never wasted.

“Let me ask—when did you first suspect something was wrong?” Natasha inquired after finishing her check.

“Eight in the evening. I was following the plan to make contact with Corry, but I saw you talking to him,” Scarlett explained.

“Then I have a theory. Every eight hours something happens. If nothing changes, the next incident should be at four in the morning,” Natasha said.

At that moment, there was a sudden knock at the door. Natasha and Scarlett exchanged a glance, then Natasha concealed herself.

Scarlett adjusted her clothing and peered through the peephole, seeing Corry and a group behind him, looking anxious.

“Corry? What brings you here?” Scarlett opened the door, arms crossed, coldly feigning annoyance at the disturbance.

“Miss Scarlett, a staff member has gone missing. We suspect an intruder may have boarded the ship, so we wanted to check if you were all right,” Corry explained hastily.

“If someone’s missing, go find them! And if there’s an intruder, what does that say about your security?” Scarlett snapped. “You don’t think I’m hiding the culprit, do you?”

“Not hiding—he might be hiding in your room. Could you let us check, just to be sure?” Corry wiped sweat from his brow, clearly rattled.

“Fine, seems I can’t refuse. Come in, but make it quick!” Scarlett stepped aside sharply.

A few minutes later, after confirming the room was empty, Corry bowed repeatedly, apologizing.

“Enough. You irritate me. Get out—take your people and leave!” Scarlett drove them out without mercy.

Once calm was restored, Natasha appeared from nowhere, flashing Scarlett an “OK” sign.