{Chapter: 267 Memory Solidification}
William chuckled as he looked down at the woman beneath him, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Funny, isn't it?" he said slowly. "We went in a full circle, played all those little games, tested each other again and again… and yet, here we are. You, underneath me once more. After all that effort, after all your resistance... it led right back to this moment."
Natasha's breath came sharp and cold, her eyes burning with defiance. "William," she said, her voice like ice, "I swear, I will kill you. And when I do, I'll return every bit of humiliation you've given me a hundredfold."
He tilted his head, as if amused by the fire in her voice. "If you manage it," he replied casually, "I'll actually be impressed. Maybe even congratulate you... as I die." His grin widened, turning cruel. "But for now? It's time for your punishment. Are you ready?"
Her body tensed. "What are you planning to do?" she asked cautiously, though a hint of dread slipped into her voice.
William raised his hand lazily. "Let's just say... justice. For every bullet you fired at me earlier, I'll give you one slap. Fair is fair."
"You wouldn't dare," Natasha snapped, panic flaring in her eyes. "Don't you touch me."
Letting him to slap on the buttocks was more unacceptable to her than killing her. It was too humiliating.
Snap!
The sound echoed harshly through the place as William's hand struck Natasha on the buttocks.
"Do you think I dare now?" William smiled and asked, his tone taunting.
Natasha's body recoiled from the blow. Her face burned red with rage and humiliation. She thrashed beneath him. "I'll kill you!"
"Oh, you still dare to be so arrogant, right?" William slapped Natasha's buttocks again, "To be fair, it feels good." he said mockingly, delivering another sharp smack. "Honestly? Not bad. The response, the feel—worth it."
Her fury only grew hotter. "Enough! End this! Just kill me already!" Natasha was already mad.
William shook his head with a slow smile. "Oh no. No no. Boring. But this? This is entertainment. You, struggling with your pride... trying to hold onto it while I tear it down. I won't do such a cruel thing to destroy a flower, and it's boring, it's more interesting now." William said with a smile.
"Kill me if you have the guts." Natasha shouted.
"Before you said you had the guts to let you go, now you say you have the guts to kill you, spanking your buttocks is so hard for you to accept, such a strong self-esteem, it seems that I have to slap a few more times to calm you down, you scared me." William smiled and slapped twice in a row.
"Ah..." Natasha screamed, "Kill you, I must kill you, William, I will make you live a life worse than death, you lunatic, pervert." All of Natasha's calmness disappeared.
"Go on, keep on scolding me. I'll slap you as many times as you scold me." William said with a smile, "If you think this is fair, keep going, baby."
Natasha's teeth bit her lips and made them bleed. She said coldly, "Go ahead, William. I won't fulfill your wish. You want to see me humiliated, want to see me struggling and screaming, you're dreaming."
William clapped his hands, "I like you. You can recover so quickly. You are worthy of being the Black Widow. Natasha. Since you said so, I will definitely meet your request."
"Humph, I will record the number of times you are hitting me. One day, you will fall into my hands. I will torture you severely and let you understand what despair is in the world." Natasha said with murderous intent.
"You have ambition, but now this can only be your fantasy. You can only be beaten by me now." William slapped Natasha's buttocks again.
"You think this makes you strong?" she hissed. "You're nothing but a coward in disguise. Hiding behind humiliation because you're too afraid of facing a real fight."
He laughed. "So dramatic. If you really want to test who's stronger, I'll be happy to play that game—after your sentence is carried out."
She clenched her fists. "This is beneath you. If you had any pride—"
"Don't lecture me about pride. You're the one who can't even accept a few smacks without falling apart." His hand came down again—twice. "There. Now we're closer to breaking that stubborn ego."
Natasha screamed in frustration, twisting violently. "You sick freak! I'll make you suffer! I'll break every bone in your body and drag you through hell. You'll beg for mercy before I'm through."
"Say what you want," William said calmly, brushing a strand of her red hair from her face. "You're beautiful when you're angry. But I've heard these threats before. And yet, here you are. Still under my control."
Natasha bit her lip so hard it drew blood. "Go on," she growled. "Hit me all you want. I won't give you what you want. You want to see me broken? Screaming? Dream on."
William applauded her. "Now that's the Black Widow I know. Tough, proud, unyielding. I admire that spirit, really I do. But admiration doesn't mean mercy."
"I'll remember every single hit," she said coldly, her breathing ragged. "Every one. And one day, when our roles are reversed, you'll understand what despair really feels like."
William leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "You have ambition. I like that. But ambition means nothing when you're powerless. And right now? You are completely at my mercy."
Another slap followed.
Natasha clenched her jaw, refusing to cry out this time. Her silence was sharper than any insult.
"I enjoy this part the most," William said with an unsettling calm. "Watching the pride in your eyes... slowly unravel. Knowing that behind all the training, the strength, the legend—you're still human."
Natasha glared at him. "And you're still a pervert hiding behind games."
He laughed again. "Guilty as charged."
Natasha gritted her teeth, with a cold light in her eyes, and said nothing.
"You know, I feel good when I see your proud look being torn apart by me." William said with a smile.
"Perverts are all like this."
"To deal with a woman like you," William said in a calm yet unsettling tone, "the first step is to shatter that proud self-esteem of yours. Tear down your arrogance, force you to face your limits, and remind you that, in the end, you're just a woman being—one who has weaknesses, fears, and things she cannot bear."
Natasha narrowed her eyes, her voice like ice. "You think you've broken me? That you've gotten into my head? You can't even begin to imagine what I've endured. Do you think I care about being struck by you?"
William raised an eyebrow. "You don't care?"
"I won't waste emotion on it," Natasha replied coldly. "Because in the end, I'll kill you. And then none of this will matter."
William chuckled with mock amusement. "Ah… the classic mental defense. You think that by imagining my death, you can erase what's already happened? That's cute. But you're wrong. What's done is done. Like this, for example—" He suddenly swung his hand and delivered another sharp slap to her.
The sound echoed harshly in the air.
"It's just a slap," he said darkly, a grin curling on his lips. "But this one—this one will stay with you."
Natasha's fists clenched at her sides. "SHIELD has the most advanced neural tech in the world. I'll erase this entire memory if I choose. Like it never happened."
"That's one way to cope," William said, his gaze shifting subtly. "But you shouldn't have told me that… because now I won't let you forget. Ever."
His eyes changed— strange flickering within them.
Natasha suddenly grabbed her temples, stumbling back. "What… what did you do to my mind? Damn it… get out of my head!"
William's expression remained eerily calm. "I've engraved this moment into your consciousness. "I'll solidify this memory of yours, and you can never delete it. No matter how hard you try, no machine or psychic will be able to remove it. It's burned into you now—forever."
"You… you're a monster!" Natasha screamed, her voice cracking with fury and disbelief.
William slowly stood up from where he had pinned her down. Without hesitation, Natasha pushed herself to her feet and backed away several steps. Her breathing was heavy, but her eyes were filled with cold, simmering hatred.
"That's enough for today," William said as he turned to leave. "I've done what I set out to do. We'll meet again soon, Natasha. And when we do... I wonder what kind of face you'll show me then."
With that, his figure faded into the shadows, disappearing into the day like a ghost.
Natasha remained still, trembling slightly. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. Her voice, when it came, was steady and full of venom. "William… I swear on everything I am… everything I've ever stood for… I will return every ounce of humiliation you gave me a hundredfold. I will make you beg for death, and I will deny you even that mercy."
---
Moments later, high above in the sky, the rhythmic beat of a helicopter's blades cut through the night air. A sleek SHIELD aircraft descended and landed nearby. Several armed agents quickly disembarked and ran toward her.
"Ma'am, are you alright?" one of them asked urgently.
Natasha didn't answer right away. Her posture was stiff, her gaze hard as steel. After a pause, she said coldly, "I'm fine." Without another word, she walked toward the chopper.
As the helicopter lifted into the air and carried her away, William stood from a nearby rooftop, his gaze following the aircraft.
"This is going to be even more fun than I expected," he whispered, a sinister smile on his face. "I'm looking forward to it, Natasha."
---
Elsewhere...
India—a land of breathtaking contradictions, where timeless mysticism meets relentless modernization. A country where ancient temples stand beside gleaming tech parks, where chants of sacred mantras echo through the same streets lit by neon signs of multinational corporations. It is a cradle of profound spirituality and philosophical heritage, yet also a battlefield of bureaucratic red tape and systemic inequality.
Here, divine faith coexists with harsh superstitions. Great minds emerge from rural poverty to launch satellites into space, while others still struggle for basic sanitation and education. India is a mosaic of over a thousand languages and countless beliefs, unified by its chaos and divided by its caste.
And in the heart of this magnificent paradox, within the teeming, time-worn city of Kolkata—a metropolis once the jewel of British colonial power, now a pulsating blend of decaying grandeur and intellectual fervor—lived a doctor. A man whose name did not appear in headlines, but was spoken with reverence in the slums and narrow alleys. To the poor, he was not just a healer; he was a whisper of hope in a country that often forgot its weakest.
A healer of extraordinary skill, known simply as Bruce.
No one knew where he came from. He didn't advertise himself. He operated in the back alleys and shantytowns, treating the sick and the broken without asking for money. Only those most desperate found him. But behind his quiet smile and unassuming appearance lay a man with a dark secret.
He was Bruce Banner—scientist, fugitive… and the other identity no one dared provoke: the Hulk.
One humid night, as the sun dipped below the skyline, a small, ragged girl burst into his modest clinic, tears streaming down her face.
"Doctor! Please—my father! He's hurt! He's dying!"
Banner didn't hesitate. Despite the weariness in his bones, he grabbed his medical kit and followed her.
They walked through shadowed streets and into the outskirts of the city, where dilapidated homes stood like forgotten ruins. Eventually, the girl led him to a crumbling structure surrounded by silence. She entered through the door, then abruptly vanished—leaping out of a window and disappearing into the darkness.
Banner sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I really should start charging upfront," he muttered. "This was obviously a setup."
A voice echoed from the shadows.
"You've been hiding from stress, haven't you? So why pick a place like this to lie low?"
Banner turned, and his eyes widened slightly in surprise. A woman stepped forward—elegant, poised, and unmistakably not Indian, though she wore a traditional saree with surprising grace looking breathtakingly beautiful.
He studied her carefully. "Hiding from stress isn't exactly my style. I've been managing it… my way. And you are?"
She stepped closer, a familiar spark in her eye. "Natasha Romanoff," she said softly.
Banner blinked. The last person he ever expected to find in this corner of the world had just walked into his life again.
*****
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