As the rope descended, a man wearing a black robe, a hood, and a quiver on his back approached Merlin. It was Hawkeye from the Avengers.
"Kid, are you okay?" Clint walked quickly to Merlin, concern evident in his voice.
As soon as Clint arrived on the scene, he saw the lizard man charging at a high school student. Without thinking, he had shot the arrows to protect the kid. Although it was unfortunate that the lizard man escaped, it was at least a relief to have saved someone.
"I'm fine, thank you!" Merlin smiled, not offering any further explanation.
Clint's eyes lingered on the revolvers holstered at Merlin's waist for a moment before turning to his face.
"Merlin Shaw," Clint said, recognizing him instantly.
The recent turmoil in New York City had certainly caught the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D., and Fury had sent both Clint and Natasha to investigate. Clint was tasked with tracking down the Lizardmen, while Natasha focused on the Punisher in Hell's Kitchen.
Of course, Merlin, a talented high school student who had recently emerged, had also come under their scrutiny. Through investigation, it seemed he had some connection with the Punisher of Hell's Kitchen. Fury had instructed them to talk and invite them to join, depending on the situation.
Despite the significant impact of the Punisher and the mysterious figure's actions in New York City, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s investigation concluded that these individuals were talented. Cooperation or recruitment was deemed beneficial.
Clint was about to initiate a conversation when the sound of approaching sirens filled the air, and police cars quickly surrounded the scene.
"Merlin!" George shouted anxiously as he got out of his car. Upon learning that Merlin was at the scene and targeted by the lizard man, he had been terrified.
After ensuring Merlin was safe, he turned his attention to Clint, who was dressed mysteriously.
"Who are you?" George asked, frowning. Judging by the other man's demeanor, he was probably an agent. FBI, perhaps?
"I am Clint Francis Barton, member of the Homeland Strategic Defense, Attack, and Logistics Division."
"Homeland Strategic...what does it do?" George frowned at the lengthy name. He cut to the chase, wanting to know the key details.
"We are a special force that deals with unusual incidents. I can't reveal more than that," Clint replied, taking out his S.H.I.E.L.D. ID card and handing it over.
George scrutinized the ID and Clint's face for a moment, ensuring its authenticity before handing it back. "How can we help you?"
"No need, just carry on as usual," Clint responded as he took back his ID.
"Well, if you need anything, you can come to us," George said, not pressing for more details. He then pulled Merlin over. "You, kid, stop running around these days!" He put his arm around Merlin's neck and guided him back to the car.
Clint watched as George took Merlin away, opening his mouth as if to say something, but decided against it. The lizard man's issue was more pressing. He glanced at the nearby sewer entrance, frowned slightly, and then climbed down.
On the rooftop of a building not far away, a black and white figure quietly retreated.
---
The next day, at the Silent Sons Club.
Merlin, dressed in casual clothes, got out of the car. He looked up at the name engraved on the plaque and walked into the store. As soon as he entered, his eyes lit up.
Rows of brand-new motorcycles lined the store, their beautiful bodies reflecting an appealing metallic texture under the light.
Honda, Yamaha, BMW, Augusta, Harley-Davidson—various brands of motorcycles filled the store.
"Buzz!!" The roar of an engine reverberated in the store. A burly middle-aged man with a beard was sitting on a black Harley 883, testing it.
Merlin had come a bit early, so the store was empty except for him and the bearded man. The man, who was testing the bike, quickly noticed Merlin.
"Are you here to buy accessories?" Jacques, the bearded man, recognized Merlin and asked as usual.
Typically, Merlin bought accessories for his modified motorcycles from them. Because of his frequent visits and his young age, Jacques was quite familiar with him. He knew that this kid really liked motorcycles, although he preferred a different style than the typical tough guy.
"No, I'm here to buy a motorcycle," Merlin shook his head, then walked to the Ducati area to take a look.
"Buying a motorcycle? What happened to your Ducati?" Jacques was a bit puzzled to hear Merlin was actually buying a new bike. He knew that Merlin often did modifications and usually could repair his bike unless it was too seriously damaged.
"It was smashed to pieces by a monster with a manhole cover building blocks." Merlin said helplessly.
"It's a monster? A lizard man?" Jacques asked, still trying to wrap his head around Merlin's explanation.
"Right!" Merlin confirmed.
"Oh, my God, that person on Sixth Avenue yesterday was you! I said why the car looked so familiar." Jacques exclaimed, abandoning his test run in excitement. "Tell me, what was it like to be up close and personal with a lizard man?"
Merlin looked at the bearded man, now standing excitedly in front of him, and sighed. "I'm here to buy a motorcycle, not tell stories."
"There's no rush. We can decide while we chat," Jacques said nonchalantly.
"What kind of bike are you looking for this time? Another Ducati?"
"Yeah, but I don't need a brand-new one. I want to buy it and modify it myself," Merlin explained. He was considering the dangers of riding a motorcycle daily and thought about buying an old, dilapidated bike to transform into a Tyrant MK2, which could fly on land and be equipped with deadlock missiles.
"It's for modification..." Jacques pondered for a moment, suddenly thought of something, and clapped his hands. "Follow me. I have a Ducati 916 that someone left in my shop recently. It has almost no value except that the engine can start."
"I plan to break it down in a few days."
He led Merlin to a corner of the shop. In an inconspicuous place, a dilapidated and almost shapeless motorcycle was parked.
At first glance, it looked more like a scrap car.
"Can this really start?" Merlin expressed doubts as he looked at the rusty motorcycle, which seemed like it could fall apart at any moment.
"Of course, let me start it for you." Jacques turned the key.
"Da da da..." The engine initially made a noise reminiscent of a tractor.
Merlin frowned.
"Buzzing..." But soon, the rough clicking sound disappeared, and the engine gradually became smoother.
"It really works." Merlin was a little surprised.
Later, he checked it carefully and found that the power system was fine, but the frame always felt like it was falling apart.
"Just this one, how much does it cost?"
For some reason, when Merlin expressed his intention to buy it, the front of the Ducati suddenly moved slightly.
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