Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [207]

The question Bruce held in his heart was voiced first by Pietro.

“Baron… sir!” Pietro hesitated, carefully choosing his words. “Weren’t we supposed to…”

“Supposed to take part in superpower experiments, right?”

Strucker’s tone was knowing, and his face showed a hint of helplessness.

“I understand. You all came here full of passion to serve HYDRA, and I shouldn’t disappoint you,” he sighed. “But recently, certain circumstances have caused the experiments to stall. Meanwhile, we urgently need new operatives within SHIELD, so we’ve decided to assign you to this mission instead.”

Strucker’s explanation was diplomatic, but the reality was harsher—the experiments hadn’t just stalled; they had failed spectacularly.

Total, unmitigated failure.

Only when Strucker later acquired Loki’s scepter would things take a turn for the better.

“But all we want is revenge,” Wanda said softly. Her ethereal demeanor remained as she sat curled up on the couch, her arms wrapped around her legs, her face buried between her knees. Only her large eyes peeked out, fixed on Strucker.

“What does SHIELD have to do with us?”

“Wanda, you’re mistaken,” Strucker said with a smile. “SHIELD’s founders included a man named Howard Stark.”

Stark!

At the mention of the name, Wanda’s eyes widened.

Her previous reluctance dissipated entirely.

SHIELD… Stark Industries… it all made sense now.

Clearly, SHIELD was just another front for a sinister organization with grand schemes to sow global chaos.

“You’ve all suffered great misfortune,” Strucker continued, his voice smooth and persuasive, “and that misfortune was brought upon you by Stark Industries. HYDRA has given you a home, so you have the chance to avenge your parents!”

Strucker’s talent for manipulation was undeniable. He understood that for children who had lost everything to war, vengeance was their only remaining purpose.

“Alright!” Pietro slapped his thigh, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “You want us to infiltrate SHIELD, right? We’re in!”

Strucker gave Pietro an approving look.

Though the boy’s choice of words betrayed a slight misunderstanding.

Infiltrate SHIELD?

In this world, SHIELD was merely a division of HYDRA—it wasn’t a separate entity.

“Since you’re willing, I’ll arrange for you to go to America,” Strucker said, handing over three folders. “Once there, you’ll be met by contacts who will guide you. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

He had clearly planned everything in advance.

“You’ll be adopted by a local couple and enrolled in a nearby high school,” Strucker continued. “Afterward, SHIELD will conduct a recruitment drive for young agents at your school. You’ll stand out—they’ll ensure it. Failure isn’t an option.”

This setup was airtight. The children’s fabricated identities would hold up to scrutiny, making them appear as innocent as possible.

Pietro and Wanda exchanged glances, but their focus wasn’t on SHIELD or becoming agents. Instead, their minds latched onto something else Strucker had said—they would be attending high school.

“I never thought I’d have a chance to go back to school,” Pietro muttered, touching his face with a self-deprecating smile. “I thought school was out of the question for me.”

Beneath Wanda’s calm exterior, she was even more excited than Pietro.

She recalled all the high school dramas she’d watched—best friends, cheerleading, prom. These were things she’d once thought impossible for her, yet now they seemed within reach.

“Thank you, Baron Strucker!” Pietro said, his gratitude heartfelt.

The debt they owed HYDRA felt impossible to repay in a single lifetime.

“There’s no need to be so emotional,” Strucker said, clearly pleased. “This is the legacy of HYDRA: the older generation guiding the younger forward, the younger inheriting the mission of those before them. In this way, HYDRA’s will shall live on forever!”

Legacy was central to HYDRA’s identity—after all, their motto was, “Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.”

Strucker concluded with a solemn blessing: “I hope you succeed in your mission. May God watch over you. Hail HYDRA!”

“Hail HYDRA!” Pietro raised his arm enthusiastically.

Wanda was less flamboyant, but she nodded in agreement as Pietro chanted the slogan.

That left only Bruce.

When Strucker’s gaze landed on him, he saw a boy moved to tears.

“Hail HYDRA,” Bruce said slowly, with great emotion, each word carrying a weighty sincerity.

—

One week later.

A Boeing plane touched down at New York’s JFK Airport. Bruce, Wanda, and Pietro dragged suitcases nearly as tall as they were, stepping out into the arrivals hall.

At the pickup area, they spotted a couple holding a sign that read “Welcome, Kids!” Their names—Bruce, Wanda, and Pietro—were scrawled in bold crayon beneath the greeting.

This couple, the Halls, were their designated adoptive parents, though in reality, they were HYDRA agents.

“These two are brave,” Kathoom remarked, appearing on Bruce’s shoulder.

The owl, unable to board the plane, had flown across the Atlantic on his own.

“Being the adoptive parents of Batman is bad luck enough. Add the Maximoff siblings, and I hope their fortunes hold.”

Bruce ignored the comment, leading Wanda and Pietro toward the couple.

Both sides had reviewed each other’s profiles, so introductions were smooth.

Pietro, however, seemed a little out of sorts.

“Hello!” he called out cheerfully. “Are you…”

“Pietro! Welcome home!”

The wife immediately pulled him into a tight hug. “Did you have fun with your uncle?”

“Uh…”

Pietro struggled to breathe under her embrace. Then she whispered in his ear, “Get into character, Pietro.”

“Oh, right!” Pietro snapped back to reality, remembering that he was now a HYDRA operative and needed to act the part.

“It’s been so long… Mom,” he finally said, though the word caught in his throat.

Despite a week of basic training as an agent, calling this stranger “Mom” felt like too much for him. Even for someone as carefree as Pietro, there was resistance in his heart.

The woman gave him an encouraging look, and Pietro gritted his teeth before forcing the word out.

“Mom!”

“Good boy!”

Her radiant smile returned as she hugged him again. To passersby, this looked like a joyful family reunion, with no hint of the deception beneath the surface.

The couple led Bruce and the others out of the airport, heading to their new home.

By this time, the crowds had thinned, and the woman was trying to coax Bruce and Wanda into calling her “Mom” as well.

But these two were far more stubborn than Pietro.

“You need to show some professionalism as agents,” the woman said, her patience thinning. “Now that you’re in America, we’re family. I know you’ve had difficult pasts, but this is a mission. Get into character.”

“Mrs. Hall, I am in character,” Bruce said, defending himself. “I’m refusing to call you that for your own good.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s just a word. Say it. Nothing bad will happen.”

Her husband also gave Bruce a supportive look, silently urging him to comply.

“This is on you,” Bruce thought. If something goes wrong, don’t blame me.

“Mom—”

Bruce had just started to say the word when two gunshots rang out in the distance.

A man wearing a knit cap and clutching a bag suddenly burst into view, charging toward them.

The situation unfolded so quickly that even Bruce couldn’t react in time.

“Hand over your valuables!”

The man kept one hand buried in his bag, glaring menacingly at the Halls.

“Do as I say! You wouldn’t want the kids to see something they shouldn’t, right?”

The Hall couple slowly raised their hands, signaling to the robber to stay calm.

“Take it easy, friend,” Mr. Hall said, his voice steady. “You don’t need to do this. I’ll give you whatever you want, and no one has to get hurt.”

He began reaching into his jacket, presumably for his wallet.

Bruce watched the scene with a twinge of black humor.

I told them they couldn’t handle me calling her Mom, he thought to Kathoom. I didn’t even get the word out, and they’re already on the verge of being shot.

Still, it was odd. They were in New York—wasn’t it a bit too soon to encounter a robbery, fresh out of the airport?

“Welcome to America,” Kathoom said dryly.

Fortunately, the robber didn’t escalate. As Mr. Hall handed over his wallet, the knit-capped man snatched it and hurried away, throwing a final glare over his shoulder before disappearing into the shadows.

“Phew,” Mr. Hall exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow. He looked as though he’d narrowly escaped death.

“That was… strange,” he muttered, frowning. “It was just a routine robbery, but for some reason, I felt like pulling my gun to fight back.”

He had indeed been carrying a concealed Browning pistol for protection, but drawing it would have escalated the situation, something he had no desire to risk.

Mrs. Hall appeared shaken but maintained her composure—one of the benefits of being a trained agent.

Still, something about the robbery felt off to her. In that brief, tense moment, she had genuinely felt as though she was standing at death’s door.

Her gaze shifted abruptly to Bruce, as though a realization had dawned on her.

“Was it you?” Mrs. Hall asked, narrowing her eyes. “Are you a superhuman?”

It wasn’t an unreasonable suspicion. HYDRA agents had heard whispers about Strucker’s experiments, though few knew the specifics.

Since Bruce and the Maximoff siblings were sent by Strucker, it wouldn’t be shocking if they’d undergone some form of enhancement.

Mrs. Hall’s mind raced as she pieced together what had just happened. Bruce had been reluctant to call her “Mom,” claiming it was for her own good.

Could it be—

A horrifying possibility struck her.

Could Bruce’s superpower be that anyone he calls “Mom” or “Dad” is destined to get shot in a back alley?

Her voice trembled as she asked Bruce directly, and he shrugged with an air of nonchalance. “Maybe.”

“Then just call me Martha!”

Mrs. Hall immediately backpedaled, unwilling to tempt fate any further.

“You’re called Martha too?!” Bruce’s expression darkened. “But the dossier said—”

“The dossier has my real name,” Mrs. Hall interrupted quickly. “But here, I’m Martha Hall.”

Bruce gave her a knowing look. With a name like that, you were bound to catch a bullet.

“I’ll just call you Mrs. Hall,” Bruce said with a faint smile. “It’s only a cover identity anyway—no need to get too attached.”

Even within HYDRA’s fabricated setup, the Halls were not supposed to be Bruce’s biological parents. Strucker had considered creating a plausible family unit but had run into one insurmountable obstacle.

There wasn’t a single family on Earth that could believably produce three such wildly different children: Pietro with his silver hair, Wanda with her fiery red locks, and Bruce with his jet-black mane.

Anyone seeing them together would assume the family had… an unusual backstory.

“Fine,” Mrs. Hall said, her earlier insistence now completely gone. She glanced at the three children with a mixture of resignation and unease.

Bruce, in particular, unnerved her.

If his ability truly involved some form of causal manipulation—where a simple “Mom” or “Dad” led to a shooting—it was terrifying.

He could theoretically use it to kill anyone, anywhere, just by declaring them his parent.

And then there was Pietro and Wanda. Did they have superpowers too? If so, were their abilities even scarier?

Mrs. Hall’s thoughts spiraled. What had she done to deserve this mission?

She now had to look after three monsters.

—

The Halls had arrived in a car to pick up the children. Once everyone was settled, Mr. Hall began driving toward their “home” in Queens.

Everyone tacitly agreed not to discuss the robbery.

After all, losing a wallet wasn’t a big deal for seasoned agents like the Halls.

“Bruce, do you really have a power like that?” Pietro leaned in close, whispering. “If you call someone ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad,’ do they really die? Is that what Strucker meant when he said you’re the embodiment of revenge?”

“Of course not,” Bruce replied firmly. “My aura of revenge isn’t that simplistic. It’s intrinsic.”

Still, Bruce realized that he may have spooked Pietro.

With Pietro’s loose lips, it was only a matter of time before Bruce gained the unfortunate nickname of “The Parent Slayer.”

—

T/N: crazy ass power imagine calling someone mom or dad and then they die in an accident right after

This is a fan translation of 蝙蝠侠的猫头鹰教父 by 巴巴罗萨光年. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!