Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [213]

Natasha formally introduced Bruce to S.H.I.E.L.D.

“As its full name suggests, the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division is a special unit established by the International Security Council to handle extraordinary events,” Natasha explained. “We safeguard the surface peace of the world, and every agent reports directly to the current director. We call him the ’33rd Officer.’

“As for his actual name, you’ll learn it when the time is right.”

She emphasized the word actual, avoiding the term real. By protocol, the director’s identity was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most closely guarded secrets.

Of course, this so-called “secret” had already been casually revealed by Kathoom. The 33rd Officer was none other than Nick Fury.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is one of the world’s most mysterious organizations, bearing the weightiest responsibilities,” Natasha continued with a proud smile. “Now, Bruce, you’re one of us!”

Bruce, however, found himself thinking less about Natasha’s introduction and more about unrelated parallels.

The world’s most mysterious organization, she had said.

The last time Bruce had heard such a boast, it was Hagrid declaring Hogwarts “the safest place in the world.”

Bruce’s personal experiences had proven otherwise—three times.

Now Natasha was laying down a similar line, and Bruce couldn’t help but think that it wouldn’t be long before S.H.I.E.L.D. became common knowledge.

Given that HYDRA had already infiltrated its core, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s grandiose mission would likely lead to equally catastrophic consequences.

Logically, I should side with S.H.I.E.L.D. and help them defeat HYDRA, Bruce mused. But I can’t be certain that S.H.I.E.L.D. truly represents justice and light.

Keeping his doubts to himself, Bruce played the part of an excited yet cautious eighth grader—a little naive, a little eager, but with a veneer of youthful skepticism.

“Ms. Rushman,” Bruce began, carefully choosing his words, “based on what you said, S.H.I.E.L.D. sounds like an extremely secretive organization, correct?”

“You could say that,” Natasha replied with a smile.

“Then I have a question,” Bruce continued. “For an organization like this, shouldn’t you conduct thorough tests to assess my abilities or character?

“You’ve just told me outright that I can join, but that doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in your recruitment process.”

Natasha kept her outward composure, but inwardly, she was fuming.

You cheeky little brat, playing coy with me, huh?

“The puzzle I gave you earlier was your test,” she said calmly. “You solved it, which proves your abilities.”

At least in terms of logical reasoning, Bruce had exceeded all expectations.

“A test? That simple?”

Bruce paused, as if realizing he’d misspoken, then quickly corrected himself. “I see. I suppose I can appreciate S.H.I.E.L.D.’s subtlety.”

Subtlety? Natasha thought. What the hell is he talking about?

She decided not to press the issue and went along with it.

“As long as you understand,” she said smoothly. “Next, you’ll undergo training with a designated instructor to learn essential skills. This will all happen discreetly.

“On the surface, you’ll remain a student at Midtown School.”

“Wait!” Bruce interrupted, frowning. “Is that really okay? Shouldn’t you conduct background checks or character evaluations first?”

“No need,” Natasha replied, her smile unwavering. “That’s already been handled by others. If you’re curious, you can ask your foster parents.”

She winked, as if dropping a bombshell.

“The Halls are S.H.I.E.L.D. agents too?” Bruce muttered, feigning surprise. “So, they adopted me with ulterior motives?”

“Don’t blame them,” Natasha said gently. “They were just following orders.”

“I understand,” Bruce said, his head drooping in feigned disappointment. “It’s just… I thought I’d finally found a family, but I guess I’ve already lost it.”

“Poor child,” Natasha murmured, looking at Bruce with genuine pity. “Do you need a hug?”

Bruce hesitated, glancing at Natasha’s open arms, then sighed theatrically. “Fine, let’s get this over with. I suppose I can take one for the team.”

Natasha pulled him into a comforting embrace, gently patting his back.

“Be strong, kid,” she said softly. “From now on, S.H.I.E.L.D. is your family.”

—

When Bruce stepped out of the school gates, Mr. Hall was already parked outside, waiting.

Their eyes met, and without a word, they exchanged all the information needed.

Everything had gone smoothly.

As Bruce got into the car, Wanda and Pietro were already in the back seat, buzzing with excitement.

“I lapped that agent twice!” Pietro exclaimed. “S.H.I.E.L.D. agents aren’t that impressive. They couldn’t even keep up with a kid like me!”

Unlike Bruce, Pietro had undergone a physical test, racing a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on a track. Predictably, Pietro left his opponent in the dust.

“They said with my talent, I could shatter world records if I went into sports!”

Bruce smiled. “That’s great. Congratulations.”

Pietro’s world is still so small, Bruce thought. Once his powers activate and he breaks the sound barrier, he won’t care about world records anymore. That’s for mere sprinters.

He soon learned about Wanda’s test, which was far more enigmatic.

“They put a box in front of me,” Wanda explained. “I was supposed to tell them what was inside.”

“And you got it right,” Bruce prompted.

“I didn’t actually see anything,” Wanda said, her voice distant as she stared blankly ahead. “I just guessed, and I happened to be right. Maybe it’s luck more than logic or physical ability.”

Ultra High-School Level Luck, Wanda Maximoff, Bruce mused, though he suspected it wasn’t mere luck. Wanda’s innate magical intuition likely played a part.

Intuition often manifests as spontaneous inspiration, and it’s well within reason.

It’s not like she can alter reality itself, Bruce thought. Not yet, anyway. Without her powers activated, she’s just Wanda—not the Scarlet Witch.

As Mr. Hall drove, he finally spoke, his tone firm.

“Alright, keep your conversations about S.H.I.E.L.D. to a minimum in public. From now on, you’re a team, and you need to remember your mission.”

“Of course!” Pietro declared. “To protect the world’s peace!”

“And repay HYDRA’s kindness,” Bruce added dryly.

“Good,” Mr. Hall said, satisfied with their responses.

He said no more as he drove them back to the Queens apartment—a place that could no longer truly be called home.

With S.H.I.E.L.D. now involved, their tranquil lives were officially over.

Kamar-Taj

Meanwhile, Kathoom flapped out of his room, his feathers ruffling as he passed by a young apprentice hanging upside down in the training courtyard.

The sight reminded the owl of some less-than-pleasant memories.

“How long is he supposed to stay up there?” Kathoom asked the overseeing sorcerer.

For reasons unknown, the apprentices at Kamar-Taj had suddenly mastered animal communication spells overnight.

Now everyone could talk to Kathoom, and for the first time in years, the owl found himself feeling a bit shy. He wasn’t used to so much conversation.

“The Ancient One said he’ll be up there for a month,” the sorcerer replied. “He snuck into her meditation chamber while she was deep in a trance and tried to draw graffiti on her head.”

“Ah, that’s definitely asking for it.”

Kathoom nodded sagely and offered some advice.

“Just make sure not to give him too much water. He’ll get desperate to relieve himself, and that’s a whole new level of punishment. I think the Ancient One just wants him to reflect, not endure that kind of misery.”

The overseeing sorcerer’s eyes lit up at Kathoom’s suggestion.

Among the apprentices, it was widely believed that every word from “Master Owl” carried profound meaning.

“I understand, Master Owl!”

“Good.”

Kathoom flew off, leaving the unfortunate apprentice to dangle. He didn’t dwell on the Ancient One’s odd teaching methods; if she could cultivate such bold students, she clearly knew what she was doing.

As Kathoom approached the library, his path was blocked by a hulking figure.

It was a large, muscular Asian man with a stern face—Wong, the librarian of Kamar-Taj.

Unfortunately, Wong’s head was freshly shaven and covered in strange red markings, resembling an unintelligible map.

“Good afternoon, Wong,” Kathoom greeted cheerfully.

Despite the warm tone, it was impossible to ignore that Wong’s head had been defaced by none other than the cheerful owl before him.

“Master Owl…” Wong said through gritted teeth, the title clearly painful for him to utter.

Kathoom had no idea why everyone at Kamar-Taj had started calling him “Master.” Even more puzzling were their bizarre behaviors—like knocking on his door at 3 a.m. to demand lessons in druidic magic.

Kathoom had dealt with one such request by throwing the offender out of Kamar-Taj.

Wong, however, wasn’t here for druid lessons.

“I just finished taking inventory of the library,” Wong said coldly. “Several books are missing. There are no borrowing records—they’ve simply vanished.”

“Really? That’s alarming!” Kathoom gasped. “Clearly, there’s been a theft. Have you reported this to the Ancient One? Should I help you look?”

“There’s no need to bother the Ancient One,” Wong said. “I think I’ve already found the culprit.”

“Good!”

Kathoom sighed in relief.

“Don’t let them get away. If this thief keeps at it, they might clear out the entire library!”

He paused thoughtfully.

“Could it be that traitor you mentioned before? What’s his name… Kaecilius?”

“It’s not Kaecilius.”

Wong’s tone remained icy. “He was only interested in the Book of Cagliostro, and he already took it.”

The Book of Cagliostro, a tome focused on time magic, tied to the Dimensional Lord Dormammu.

“Well, I’m stumped,” Kathoom said. “I’m just a kindhearted owl. I’d hate to suspect anyone unfairly.”

With a polite nod, he added, “Anyway, I need to get to the library. Could you move aside? No offense, but you’re blocking the door.”

After a long, scrutinizing stare, Wong reluctantly stepped aside.

“Thank you.”

Kathoom flapped past him, but as he entered, Wong spoke again.

“I just want to warn you,” he said, his voice low. “Borrowing books temporarily is fine, but some of the missing texts contain dangerous rituals.

“Studying them is one thing, but performing the rituals is strictly forbidden.

“They involve Dimensional Lords—Mephisto, Nightmare, Shuma-Gorath, Cyttorak…

“Any one of them appearing on Earth would be catastrophic. I hope whoever took those books knows what they’re doing.”

Wong’s warning was earnest. Based on his observations, Kathoom was the kind of being who might invoke a Dimensional Lord just to see what would happen.

“Thank you for the advice,” Kathoom replied with a smile. “I’m sure whoever has the books will think carefully.”

If any summoning rituals were performed, it wouldn’t be Earth that suffered.

It would be those poor, unfortunate Dimensional Lords.

—

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!