"Are you saying something, sir...?"
Hearing Reid mutter to himself while supporting him, Howard asked curiously.
However, Reid would never reveal to anyone that he had a system, and since Alfred was his first role to play, he even planned to continue maintaining Alfred's identity in front of others.
"It's nothing, I was just feeling a bit shaken up. Why would someone like that come to attack you?"
Upon hearing this, Howard fell silent as well. He too was puzzled. Why would such an assassin target him?
He had certainly made many enemies, but someone with the capabilities of a super soldier clearly wasn't something low-level forces could send. Unless... it was someone from his other hidden enemies.
But soon, Howard stopped pondering the details.
Because when they returned to Stark's car, they discovered that Howard's wife, Maria, had already stopped breathing.
Her face, repeatedly struck by Winter Soldier, was completely caved in, with her cheekbones and skull shattered. For her to be able to call out Howard's name in her final moments, allowing him to regain his focus and help Reid, was nothing short of a miracle.
"No! No! Maria, don't leave me!"
Howard seemed to lose all his strength as he collapsed onto Maria's lifeless body, crying in despair.
The heartbreaking sound made Reid, who had always seen these people as mere virtual figures, feel deeply moved.
In that moment, he fully realized that this wasn't some comic book world or movie, nor was it a fictional universe. This was a real, harsh, and even more dangerous reality!
"Mr. Stark, please accept my condolences..."
Following Alfred's instincts, Reid quietly stood beside Howard, his hands clasped together in a respectful prayer for the deceased woman.
At this moment, Alfred's role-playing progress subtly increased a little.
After some time, overwhelmed by grief and exhaustion, Howard fainted over Maria's body. Reid carefully placed him in the front passenger seat and quietly waited by his side.
In the movies, Winter Soldier killed Howard by exploiting the opportunity when Howard was unprotected. But Reid believed that, as the founder of S.H.I.E.L.D., even though Howard no longer managed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s affairs, the agency would surely keep track of his movements. It was only a matter of time before S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived.
And indeed, as Reid predicted, not an hour later, a Quinjet slowly descended nearby. A burly African-American agent and a sharp, Mediterranean-looking white agent stepped out of the cabin.
"Nick Fury and Phil Coulson?"
Reid saw the two figures from a distance—Nick Fury, who had yet to become the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and his assistant, Phil Coulson.
From Reid's memory, Nick Fury had risen to the higher ranks of S.H.I.E.L.D. in 1995, after the events of Captain Marvel, seizing the opportunity to transition from field agent to management.
As for poor Coulson, unless Fury was to die, it seemed like this unlucky guy would remain a dutiful field agent for the rest of his life.
"Hello, sir. Thank you for saving Mr. Howard," Nick Fury approached and immediately shook Reid's hand.
However, at that moment, Reid decided to test the agents' ability to react. He feigned surprise and said, "In a situation like this, I couldn't just stand by. But what organization are you from? A private jet? It can't be from Stark Industries, right?"
Upon hearing this, neither Nick Fury nor Coulson showed any sign of panic. It was clear they had prepared their response before they left.
Coulson immediately stepped forward and displayed his FBI credentials.
"We are affiliated with the FBI, a division specifically dedicated to protecting high-profile individuals. Please do not disclose our operations to anyone."
'FBI again,' Reid thought. Though he had expected it, it seemed that such frequent use of false affiliations was probably one of the reasons why S.H.I.E.L.D. and domestic U.S. special agencies had such a strained relationship.
However, Reid wasn't going to call them out on it. He smiled and said, "I see. Don't worry, I won't say a word. But could I trouble you to use your plane to take me to Gotham? My car..."
Reid pointed to the side where the Wayne family car, now riddled with bullets by Winter Soldier, was in ruins. They were in a secluded area, with hardly any traffic passing by.
"No problem," Nick Fury replied without hesitation. He wasn't going to turn down this request. In fact, they had no intention of letting the distinguished gentleman out of their sight anytime soon. They planned to investigate him thoroughly, making sure they understood everything about him.
Thus, Reid followed Nick Fury and Coulson to a New York's Hospital, where they handed over the unconscious Howard Stark to the doctors. Afterward, they took him directly to Wayne Manor's backyard in the Quinjet.
Once Reid disembarked, the Quinjet took off without any further interaction with him.
In fact, as the Quinjet ascended, Coulson pulled out a file containing all of Alfred's information.
"The Pennyworth family is really strange," Nick Fury muttered, flipping through the file. "They have a former MI6 super-agent take on the family butler role, but the thing is, the Pennyworths don't even have a fixed family to serve!"
He continued flipping through the file, but aside from that odd detail, nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. It seemed that Alfred's rescue of Howard Stark was truly just a coincidence. For now, this matter could be set aside.
Now, their main problem was determining who had carried out the assassination attempt on Howard.
As Nick Fury pondered this, Coulson, looking out the window at the night skyline of Gotham City, couldn't help but reflect on the contrast. During the day, Gotham was just as bustling as New York, but at night, crime ruled the streets.
He had also looked into Alfred's background and learned much about Gotham through that research. The last Wayne heir had gone missing, leaving only Alfred as the sole member of the household.
Coulson didn't think Alfred, in his role as a butler, would be able to sustain Wayne Enterprises. If the company were to collapse, Gotham would fall under the control of crime and capital, and the city would descend further into chaos.
"Don't overthink it, Coulson," Nick Fury suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
Gotham City was a place that was already enough of a headache just by name alone. This complex city had reached the point where it could swallow even the most skilled operatives.
The FBI, CIA, and even they had sent agents to investigate the entire city, but those agents either lacked the skills to gather any real information or, as they dug deeper, mysteriously disappeared into the city's dark underbelly.
Gotham wasn't like any American city. It felt more like a new world—one where they didn't have enough influence to interfere with its ongoing situation.