Something interesting was indeed about to happen, because Noah had already made his decision. Bucky—the Winter Soldier—meant nothing to him. But to Steve Rogers, that man was probably second only to Peggy Carter.
Because of that, Noah felt helping out wasn't a big deal.
The only thing he wondered was whether this would spark another civil war.
Shaking his head, Noah reloaded his gun and looked at the approaching vehicles, calmly considering his options. Shooting the driver every time was starting to feel dull. What he didn't expect was that the crashing cars ahead had completely blocked the road.
The pursuers got out.
"That makes things easier," Noah said, feeling oddly lucky.
He turned to Jason and the others. "I'm going to have some fun. Keep an eye on this guy."
"Go ahead." Constantine shrugged, indifferent. "I really don't get why you're into this kind of thing. Been watching too many movies? Want to experience being an agent?"
"Who knows," Noah smiled. "Maybe I'm just bored."
He turned and walked out.
"Is he really okay by himself?" Wick frowned.
Noah confused him. His shooting earlier was flawless—proven both in Wick's room and just now. But the way Noah reloaded his gun moments ago was awkward. Too awkward. It didn't look like someone familiar with firearms at all.
It looked amateur.
That contradiction left Wick uneasy.
Constantine rolled his eyes. "Relax. Even if you die, he'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" Wick looked at the younger man who shared his face. He genuinely couldn't understand where this confidence came from.
"Absolutely." Constantine pulled out a cigarette and casually offered one to the gradually calming Fury. "One piece of advice—don't judge him, or me, by your assumptions."
He lit his cigarette.
"You have no idea who we are. Don't overthink it."
With that, Constantine ignored Wick entirely and focused on Noah with interest. From his perspective, Noah really was just bored. And since Noah was enjoying himself, Constantine saw no reason not to enjoy the show as well.
Noah didn't know what Constantine was thinking. Even if he did, he wouldn't care.
What he did know was that this was fun.
Back when he still watched movies, Noah had often imagined how it would feel to be an agent—vaulting over obstacles, moving through gunfire without hesitation. After coming to this world, those thoughts had vanished, buried under magic and future crises.
Now, with this rare opportunity, his playful mood surfaced.
He welcomed it.
Gun raised, Noah walked straight forward. No cover. No hesitation.
With his current physique, even taking a bullet probably wouldn't hurt him much. His reaction speed wasn't slow either. With a little magical assistance, he could even see bullet trajectories and sidestep them.
So this is what cheating feels like.
He didn't overdo it. Noah simply wrapped himself in the most basic wind-element shield. Its only purpose was simple—deflect bullets the instant they touched him.
And so, he advanced.
His calm, direct approach confused the agents chasing Fury. But confusion didn't stop professionals.
"Kill him!"
Gunfire erupted. Pistols. Rifles. Bullets flooded toward Noah.
And then something felt wrong.
He dodged.
Not dramatically—just slight twists, subtle movements. Then he accelerated.
A few steps forward.
He raised his handgun and fired.
His wrist twitched.
A man hiding behind a car collapsed instantly.
"Damn it! Assassin Brotherhood!" someone shouted. "Kill him!"
They recognized the technique immediately.
That recognition made them nervous.
But it also made them confused. The Assassin Brotherhood had been wiped out by Fury and Tony Stark together. Why was one of them here now? And protecting Fury of all people?
Wick was just as stunned.
He watched Noah weave through bullets and kill someone behind cover with a casual flick of his wrist. That level of precision wasn't something even elite assassins could casually pull off.
Is he… Assassin Brotherhood?
As someone once tied to the High Table, Wick knew their relationship with the Brotherhood. He also knew what had happened to them.
His thoughts spiraled.
Had these two betrayed the Brotherhood together? Or, like him, had they surrendered and joined S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Wick couldn't find the answer.
Noah didn't think about any of that.
He was having the time of his life.
Gun flicks. Precise angles. Movement and fire blending together. Things he'd only seen on screen before were effortless now, thanks to his body—and magic quietly backing him up.
When his gun emptied, he didn't reload.
He picked one up from the ground.
One bullet. One body.
Enemy fire filled the air. Noah's bullets came from impossible angles. None of theirs even brushed his clothes.
Fury stared in silence.
Was this combat?
Or choreography?
Wick felt the same. From a practical standpoint, Noah's movements were exaggerated—almost theatrical. And yet, they worked. Perfectly.
Only Constantine and Jason remained unconcerned. They knew Noah too well.
If anything, this probably wasn't even his real level.
Within moments, the pursuers were nearly wiped out.
"Is that it?" Noah asked calmly, looking at the few who remained. "That's all?"
The survivors didn't answer. Some dropped their weapons. Others turned and ran.
Watching them flee, Noah sighed.
He really did have talent for this.
But he also knew the truth. Without magic, without this body, he'd be dead already. That self-awareness kept his feet on the ground.
He let them go.
Casually tossing his gun aside, Noah picked up another handgun with plenty of ammo left. Then he paused.
His gaze shifted.
Fury and Wick noticed immediately, confusion flashing across their faces. But Constantine and Jason remained calm.
They waited.
A sharp crack split the air.
A sniper rifle.
Noah shifted his body slightly. The bullet missed, blasting rubble from the ground beside him.
Me? Noah wondered briefly.
A second bullet followed—already in flight before the sound reached them.
Noah moved.
He raised his handgun and fired into the air.
A spark exploded mid-flight.
Silence.
Fury and Wick froze. Even the unseen shooter hesitated.
No debris. No blood.
Noah stood unharmed.
A single thought surfaced in their minds.
"…Did this bastard just shoot the bullet down?"
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