It wasn't until the tenth day that Karl finally woke up, putting everyone at ease. After he had fully recovered, they held a grand celebration at the Avengers facility. The Avengers Tower in New York had been left in a complete mess by Ultron and needed time to be repaired, so Nick Fury personally approved the party to be held at the base.
From that point on, Karl became an ordinary person.
His magic was gone. His enhanced healing ability had disappeared. He couldn't even communicate with the system anymore.
"Ugh… looks like I'll have to wait three months to get the mission rewards…"
Karl lazily rolled over, just in time to see Moogle happily devouring food on the table. Even though he had lost all his abilities for now, as long as he stayed inside his apartment building, he was completely safe—even if the sky collapsed.
After Gwen and the others learned that Karl had become an ordinary human, Skye and Wanda essentially became his personal bodyguards. Gwen still had to go to the lab, so daytime security fell to the two of them.
At the same time, Tony had sent several professional bodyguards to stand guard, effectively surrounding Karl's entire apartment building. As for Nick Fury, he had deployed a large number of agents to operate covertly nearby, just in case anything happened.
After witnessing the Demon Titan, Fury now treated Karl with even more importance than the President. He was terrified that some unknown force might abduct Karl and brainwash him—because if that happened, no one on Earth would be able to stop him.
Fortunately, Karl was now arguably the safest person in the world.
With two superpowered girls protecting him up close and no fewer than a hundred agents and bodyguards nearby, this level of security could easily dismantle a terrorist organization in the Middle East.
---
That day, Karl was sprawled in the office as usual. More and more, he felt that keeping the agency open was pointless. No business ever came in anymore. The place had basically turned into his living room—a spot to zone out when he had nothing better to do.
Skye was handling client inquiries as usual, Wanda was cleaning, and Karl was the only one bored out of his mind.
He felt like he was under house arrest. Everywhere he went, someone followed—either men in black suits or S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.
As Tony had put it:
"You're a normal guy now—and you've made a lot of enemies. Step outside without protection, and who knows who might take you out. Either stay in your apartment, or accept the bodyguards. There's no third option."
The three women at home shared the same stance. If Karl wanted to go out, at least one of them had to accompany him.
---
That evening, Karl planned to take a nice shower and enjoy a good game.
But just as he was settling in, the bathroom door suddenly opened.
Wanda walked out, her red hair damp, a towel wrapped around her body. Droplets of water clung to her skin, and a faint fragrance lingered around her.
Seeing the snacks piled up in front of Karl, she casually sat down beside him and opened a bag of chips.
Karl turned to look at her.
He already knew—there would be no game tonight.
He'd be stepping onto the field himself.
---
At the same time…
Outside a luxurious villa, a man sneakily stepped out of a van with a backpack slung over his shoulders, creeping toward the property.
With practiced ease, he scaled the wall and slipped inside.
The villa was pitch black—clearly empty. But the thief had already scoped the place out. He knew there was a massive safe in the basement. Anyone who could afford a villa like this had to be wealthy—and that safe was bound to contain valuables.
He scanned the area and noticed a small window on the second floor had been left open.
Perfect.
With agile movements, he climbed up and slipped inside through the window after confirming it was safe.
---
Inside the van, three men stared intently at a laptop displaying a floor plan of the villa.
"I'm in. Moving through the study."
The thief's voice came through their earpieces.
"Turn left after you exit, then head downstairs," one of them instructed.
Following the directions, the thief reached the ground floor—the foyer.
After carefully checking his surroundings, he spotted a tank-shaped keychain with a key attached, sitting on a small table.
He grabbed it and followed the instructions down to the basement.
At the end of the basement corridor was a door. Using the key, he unlocked it without issue.
But when he opened it, he froze.
There was another door behind it—this one made entirely of alloy, with a fingerprint scanner.
"Fuck… there's a fingerprint lock?"
Back in the van, the others were equally stunned.
"A fingerprint lock? The guy who gave us the intel never mentioned that. Is this a bust, Scott?"
"Not necessarily."
Scott paused, then turned and headed back upstairs into the kitchen. After rummaging through drawers, he gathered some useful tools.
He began placing strips of transparent tape on various surfaces, searching for fingerprints. Eventually, he found a clear one on a door handle.
Next, he took out a small circular mold, fixed it over the tape with the fingerprint, and poured in a layer of strong adhesive. Holding both ends of the tape, he gently heated the mold.
Soon, the glue solidified.
Removing the mold, Scott held it up to the light—a perfect fingerprint was imprinted on the hardened adhesive.
He grinned.
Returning to the basement, he pressed the freshly made "fingerprint" onto the scanner.
Click.
The door unlocked.
"I'm in," Scott whispered.
Back in the van, the three men erupted in cheers.
"Scott, you're incredible! No alarms triggered—piece of cake!"
---
Inside the basement, Scott immediately spotted the massive safe.
Calling it a "safe" was almost an understatement—the door was embedded into the wall itself. Half the basement was essentially part of the vault.
"The guy who tipped us off wasn't kidding," Scott muttered. "This thing is tough."
"How tough?" came the reply.
"Very tough. Carbendale steel, made in 1910."
Scott ran his hand along the surface.
"You know the Titanic? Same material."
The van fell silent.
"…Can you crack it?"
Scott thought for a moment.
"This kind of steel handles heat well—but not cold."
He smirked slightly.
"Remember what sank the Titanic?"
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