Chapter 11
New YorkSeaside Villa
Yang Jian landed on the villa terrace with Wanda in tow.
Waves rolled in rhythmically; moonlight painted the ocean silver.
Wanda clutched the blanket scavenged from the base, staring blankly at the distant horizon.
"This is…"
"My place." Yang Jian walked to the bar cart, poured a glass of water, and handed it to her. "Starting today, no one will experiment on you again."
Wanda took the glass; her fingertips trembled slightly.
"There's something dangerous inside me. According to them, it hasn't been activated yet." Her voice was low.
Yang Jian smiled. "No rush."
He looked at her. His eyes flared red. Two thin beams of heat vision lanced out—carefully heating the outside of the glass without shattering it.
"Power itself isn't good or evil. It depends on the person wielding it."
Wanda watched the glow, a flicker of resolve slowly rising in her eyes.
"Can you help me?"
Yang Jian retracted the energy, meeting her gaze.
"Maybe. But first, you need to learn to trust yourself. Do you want to control it?"
Desire flashed in Wanda's eyes, quickly replaced by resignation. "What's the price?"
Yang Jian sat on the sofa behind him, studying her for a few seconds. "Nothing for now. Consider it an investment."
He paused, then added: "I saved you because you're valuable. Maybe your power will help me someday. Or maybe it'll be something else. Like…"
Yang Jian glanced at her without finishing the sentence, picked up a glass of red wine, and took a slow sip.
As a "good man," he upheld the sincere principle of not initiating but never refusing.
He was committed to offering suffering girls a warm harbor.
Wanda froze for a second, understanding his implication. She looked down at herself and gave a self-mocking laugh. "In my current state… am I really worth that?"
Yang Jian didn't answer. He stood and headed for the stairs. "Guest room on the second floor. Bathroom's on the left. Tomorrow we start working on awakening your power."
"There are no cages here. No Hydra. Just a warm home—and someone who can make sure you're never hurt again."
Wanda stood motionless for a long time before whispering, "Thank you."
Yang Jian waved without looking back. "Get some rest."
...
Second Floor
Wanda stood at the guest room's floor-to-ceiling window. Moonlight spilled across her pale face.
She gently traced the faint metal-ring scars on her wrists—the suppressors Hydra had used.
Yang Jian had crushed them like paper with a casual pinch.
Freedom.
The word felt almost unreal to her.
She walked to the bed and sat, fingertips sinking into the soft down comforter.
How long since she'd slept in a real bed?
Memories flooded in.
Sokovian artillery fire.
Her parents' screams.
Hiding with Pietro in the rubble.
Then Hydra's cages, cold experiment tables, shocks, drugs, pain.
She closed her eyes, chest rising and falling.
Pietro—her twin brother—dead in a failed experiment.
Hydra hadn't even let her grieve. They dragged his body away and said only:
"Next subject ready."
And now she was here.
In a stranger's villa.
Yang Jian.
She didn't even know who he really was.
A man who tore alloy bars with his hands and erased an entire Hydra base in seconds—why save her?
The price: her entire self?
The thought circled in her mind.
Wanda gave a bitter smile.
What did she have left to lose?
The bathroom water shut off.
She stepped inside. Warm water washed away blood, dirt, and despair.
In the mirror: a gaunt face, amber eyes holding too much—fear, confusion, and a faint glimmer she hadn't noticed before. Hope?
She dried off and slipped into the sleepwear left by the door.
Pure black silk, soft as a second skin.
She'd never even dared touch fabric like this before.
Back at the bed, she slid under the covers.
The mattress swallowed her like clouds.
Moonlight poured quietly into the room.
Wanda turned on her side, gazing at the sea.
If Pietro were alive, he'd love this place.
The thought stung her eyes, but she didn't cry.
She hadn't cried in a long time.
She closed her eyes and let exhaustion take her.
That night, no nightmares.
No shocks. No screams.
Only deep, peaceful darkness.
...
Second Floor – Yang Jian's Room
He stood on the balcony, whiskey in hand, super hearing tuned to every sound in the villa.
Wanda's breathing evened out into sleep.
He swirled the glass; ice clinked crisply.
"System."
[Ding! Host, please state your request.]
"Scan Wanda Maximoff's physical data."
[Scanning…] [Target: Wanda Maximoff] [Ability: Chaos Magic (Unawakened)] [Potential Rating: SSS] [Note: Recommend host guide awakening as soon as possible. Chaos Magic has special resonance with Infinity Stones.]
Yang Jian raised an eyebrow.
"Saving her was definitely the right call." He downed the whiskey in one go, gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
Chaos magic—reality rewriting.
Tomorrow, the world would gain a Scarlet Witch.
MorningSeaside Villa – Private Beach
Wanda jolted awake, sitting up fast, chest heaving.
In her dream: crimson chaos again.
Twisted space, shattered reality, countless whispering echoes.
She looked at her hands—fingertips trembled as if invisible energy flowed beneath her skin.
Not a dream.
A soft knock at the door.
"Awake?" Yang Jian's voice came through.
Wanda took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Yes."
"Ten minutes. Meet me on the beach."
Footsteps faded.
Wanda went to the bathroom, looked at herself in the mirror, and exhaled long and slow.
Private Beach
Morning light bathed the fine white sand. Waves lapped gently; salty sea breeze filled the air.
Yang Jian stood in the center, black casual clothes rippling slightly in the wind.
Hands in pockets, he watched Wanda approach.
She wore a simple black long dress, barefoot on the sand, red hair tousled by the breeze.
"How'd you sleep?" Yang Jian asked with a smile.
"More peacefully than I have in years." Wanda replied softly, stopping in front of him.
Her amber eyes held wariness and anticipation.
Yang Jian nodded, skipping pleasantries.
"Do you know what's inside you?"
Wanda's fingers curled unconsciously. "Hydra said it was some kind of energy."
"They weren't wrong."
Yang Jian raised his hand, palm up. A thread of golden energy danced at his fingertips. "But their understanding didn't even scratch the surface."
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