c7: Life is Like a Play, All About Acting Skills
Having made up his mind, Harvey knew this was not the time for any large-scale operation. Acting too quickly in a world filled with hidden powers from organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. to mystical guardians would only expose him unnecessarily. For now, maintaining a low profile while gathering resources was the best approach.
Simply going out, selling carefully selected information, and earning ten million dollars at a time already felt efficient. The more capital he accumulated, the easier it would be to act later. With that thought, Harvey relaxed and spent several hours swimming in his private pool.
This activity was not just leisure, it was training. After more than two hundred evolutions, his physical power had reached a dangerous threshold. A casual movement could generate destructive force comparable to enhanced individuals in Marvel, and even a simple stroke in the water could shatter reinforced structures.
Recently, Harvey had already destroyed multiple objects unintentionally due to imperfect control over his rapidly growing strength. This lack of precision was a serious issue, especially in a modern city like New York, where even minor incidents could attract unwanted attention from authorities or superhuman observers.
Because of this, Harvey deliberately avoided hiring permanent staff for his estate. Maintaining secrecy was critical. Unlike figures such as Tony Stark, who openly operated as Iron Man under global scrutiny, Harvey needed anonymity to survive and grow.
Any accidental display of power in front of ordinary people could lead to investigations, surveillance, or worse direct intervention. Until he could perfectly control his abilities after each evolution, minimizing human contact was the safest option.
After finishing his training, Harvey lay back on a sun lounger in the courtyard, enjoying freshly squeezed juice and fruit while watching the sunset over New York. The golden light reflecting off the skyline created a peaceful atmosphere, sharply contrasting with the dangerous path he was walking. For a moment, everything felt almost unreal like a calm before a storm. In a universe filled with gods, aliens, and hidden forces, such tranquility was rare, making it all the more valuable.
As night fell, Harvey changed into a tailored suit and drove out in his Ferrari convertible. The city lights illuminated the streets, and the hum of nightlife filled the air. He planned to have dinner and perhaps engage in some light activity afterward maintaining the appearance of a wealthy but otherwise ordinary civilian. In a place like New York, blending in was often the best disguise, even more effective than hiding outright.
However, just as he exited his estate, a figure suddenly stepped into his path, forcing him to brake. Standing under the streetlights was a striking red-haired woman in a tight black combat outfit. Her posture was confident, her gaze unwavering—Harvey immediately recognized her as Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow, an elite operative of S.H.I.E.L.D. The encounter was unexpected, and it immediately raised suspicion.
Harvey's first thought was exposure, but he quickly dismissed it. He had been careful, his movements were normal, his lifestyle consistent with that of a wealthy individual. Even his unusual eating habits, consuming large amounts of food, could be explained as indulgence rather than anything supernatural. In fact, for Harvey, eating was both enjoyment and a method of gaining evolution points, making it an essential part of his daily routine. There was no obvious reason for S.H.I.E.L.D. to target him directly.
Even so, he had no choice but to stop the car. While he knew Natasha possessed the reflexes to dodge, running her over was not an option. it would immediately escalate the situation and draw attention. Instead, Harvey leaned slightly out of the car window, his tone sharp and irritated, fully embodying the reaction of an ordinary person caught off guard.
"You crazy woman?" he snapped. "That's not how you stage an accident!"
Natasha showed no reaction to the insult. Her expression remained calm and professional, as expected of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents. She reached into her suit and presented her identification without hesitation, her voice steady as she spoke.
"Mr. Harvey Ambellaca, I'm from Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. I mean no harm. I just want to talk to you about something."
Her direct approach was not without reason. After receiving intelligence about Earth's exposure to extraterrestrial forces particularly the existence of individuals like the Grim Reaper, who might not be human S.H.I.E.L.D. had raised its alert level. Combined with Nick Fury's prior knowledge of alien races such as the Kree and Skrulls, the situation demanded immediate investigation. Testing whether Harvey was a superhuman or something more had become a priority.
Rather than relying on surveillance alone, Natasha chose direct contact. In her experience, face-to-face interaction made it easier to observe subtle reactions, body language, and inconsistencies. It also allowed her to guide the conversation strategically, probing for weaknesses or hidden truths. This method aligned with her role as a spy gathering intelligence through precision rather than force.
Harvey, however, had no intention of cooperating easily. Following the mindset of an ordinary civilian who had just been forcibly stopped, he responded with clear dissatisfaction, his tone deliberately unfriendly.
"Let's not even talk about whatever department you just mentioned," he said coldly. "Is this your idea of how to ask for a conversation?"
The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division was a covert intelligence organization responsible for handling extraterrestrial threats, superhuman activity, and other anomalous events beyond normal jurisdiction.
Operating in secrecy, it answered to no ordinary authority and often acted before the public was even aware of danger. Because of its classified nature, it was completely normal that most civilians had never heard of it, let alone understood its true scope or influence in protecting Earth from both internal and external threats.
"I apologize for my attitude, but I have my reasons," Natasha said calmly. However, despite the apology, her actions told a different story.
She swiftly drew her pistol and aimed it directly at Harvey, her posture precise and unwavering typical of Natasha Romanoff, a master assassin and spy trained to assess threats in seconds. The sudden escalation was not meant to harm, but to provoke a reaction this was a calculated test, not a reckless move.
The moment Harvey saw the dark barrel of the gun, he immediately understood her intention. This was not an interrogation, it was a probe. S.H.I.E.L.D. often used extreme methods to confirm whether someone possessed superhuman abilities, especially in a world where enhanced individuals could react faster than bullets. Natasha wasn't looking for answers she was looking for instinct. Any abnormal reaction would expose him instantly.
"Let's talk this out there's no need for guns, right?" Harvey said quickly, raising his hands. His expression shifted to one of visible unease, even fear, his tone becoming ingratiating. "What do you want? Money? Just name your price. I can give you whatever I have." His performance was flawless, completely in line with how an ordinary wealthy civilian might react when suddenly threatened by violence.
Natasha carefully observed every detail his breathing, eye movement, muscle tension, and tone. For a brief moment, even she found it difficult to determine whether this was genuine fear or a carefully constructed act. Years of espionage had taught her that the most dangerous opponents were those who could control themselves under pressure. Still, this test would force a definitive answer.
After a brief pause, Natasha made her decision. Even if Harvey intended to hide something, in the face of imminent danger, instinct would override control. Her finger tightened slightly on the trigger, committing to the test. The distance was close enough that any enhanced individual would react dodge, counter, or reveal some abnormal trait.
"No!" Harvey shouted, his face turning pale as he instinctively curled his body, clearly terrified. He showed no intention of resisting, no sign of hidden confidence. From the outside, he looked exactly like a civilian frozen in fear, completely unable to respond to lethal force. There was no trace of superhuman composure or reflex in his reaction.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Three gunshots rang out sharply in the night.
However, at the moment of firing, Natasha subtly adjusted her aim. The bullets veered off target, striking harmlessly away from Harvey. This was a controlled test—she never intended to kill him. Instead, she wanted to observe his reaction at the critical moment when death seemed inevitable.
A few seconds passed. Harvey slowly opened his eyes, his body trembling as he instinctively checked himself for injuries. "I… I'm not dead?" he muttered, his voice filled with disbelief. The shock appeared genuine, his breathing uneven as if he had just narrowly escaped death.
Then, as the immediate danger passed, his fear turned into anger. "You crazy woman! What the hell are you trying to do?" he shouted, his tone filled with indignation. The emotional shift from terror to outrage was consistent with a normal human response, further reinforcing the illusion he had carefully constructed.
"It's fine. You can leave now," Natasha said calmly, lowering her weapon. Although her expression remained composed, there was a trace of disappointment in her eyes. She had expected at least a slight anomaly, but everything Harvey displayed fell perfectly within the range of normal human behavior. Without another word, she stepped aside and disappeared into the wooded area beside the road, ending the encounter abruptly.
Even after she vanished, Harvey knew she hadn't truly left. Agents like Natasha never withdrew completely without confirming the aftermath. Without hesitation, he restarted the engine and drove off quickly, maintaining the image of someone eager to escape danger. His reaction remained consistent from beginning to end, leaving no visible flaw.
After Harvey's car disappeared into the distance, Natasha emerged silently from the shadows. Based on everything she had observed, she reached a clear conclusion—Harvey Ambellaca was not a superhuman. If he had been enhanced, he would have displayed some form of instinctive defense when faced with gunfire.
In Marvel's world, even untrained enhanced individuals often reacted subconsciously to threats. Harvey, however, showed nothing beyond ordinary human fear.
Additionally, his behavior matched his social status. As a wealthy individual, he did not mention calling the police or escalating the situation. In reality, openly threatening to involve authorities during a confrontation would only provoke further violence.
His reactions were not only natural but logically consistent, making it difficult to find any contradiction. While it was still possible that he had been acting, such flawless performance would require an extraordinary level of control.
With the test complete, Natasha mounted her motorcycle and left the scene. The entire operation had taken less than an hour. Shortly afterward, she received a message from Nick Fury, questioning her actions.
Harvey had already reported the incident to the FBI, describing a "crazy woman," and the details matched Natasha perfectly. This confirmed that Harvey had responded exactly as an ordinary civilian would under such circumstances.
"It was the fastest way to confirm," Natasha replied without hesitation. "Based on the results, Harvey Ambellaca is not a superhuman."
"Are you certain?" Nick Fury asked, his tone carrying a hint of disappointment. Given the increasing number of anomalies on Earth especially after confirmed encounters with alien races like the Kree and Skrulls he had hoped to identify more potential assets.
"Yes," Natasha responded firmly. Her confidence was based on direct observation, not speculation. As one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most experienced operatives, her judgment carried significant weight.
"Understood. You can stop monitoring him," Fury replied after a moment. "I'll handle the aftermath."
Although the possibility of hiring the mysterious Grim Reaper remained, Nick Fury knew better than to rely on an unknown entity. In a crisis involving extraterrestrial threats, there was no guarantee that such a figure would act in humanity's interest, regardless of payment. Earth was entering a dangerous phase one where the existence of alien civilizations was no longer theoretical.
For now, all he could do was continue searching for individuals willing to stand on humanity's side. The formation of a team something greater than isolated heroes was becoming increasingly urgent. Before hostile forces from beyond Earth arrived, he needed to find those capable of protecting the planet, even if the odds were uncertain.
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