It's all very nice to post a new chapter, but I'd forgotten that I was a bit behind on the translation.

This time we'll let Clint and Tony rest and pass the Loki problem on to someone else.

"But it's sales season!"

Loki stopped abruptly and in the blink of an eye considered retreating to his office. Curiosity prevailing, he moved his head slightly forward and peered cautiously into the living room. The source of the scream was unmistakable: Agent Barton. Loki turned his head for a moment to stare into the void in front of him. Clint Barton was making a scene in the tower, what a surprise.

The archer was standing in the middle of neatly aligned stacks of various boxes. Loki noticed a few of them stamped with bakery logos and a sudden hunger for Donuts awoke in him.

"It started with smoothies, why are they having a sale on smoothies, Natasha? And it's spreading to all products."

"Just like every year, Clint. It's the principle of the sales season."

"We're living in a loop!" gasped the bowman, throwing his arms up in the air. "Why does everyone act like this is normal?"

Loop... Circle... Donut... Loki shook his head and concentrated.

"Sales," he murmured to himself as he moved out of mortal sight to pull out his Stark phone.

A brief search later, he was on his way back to his office, phone pressed to his ear. He was just passing the office door when his new recruit picked up.

"I've got another job, you know," Matt sighed. "You can't call me at all hours."

"Sales," interrupted Loki without warning.

"Sales?"

"We've got to make a sale."

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose and took a moment to step away from his clients, who were waiting for their court hearing to begin with an apologetic smile. He took advantage of these few steps to step out of his role as lawyer to answer the god; out of reach, he resumed the discussion.

"What's this about? Do we have stock to sell? A new model line on the way?"

"No, I manage my stocks very well," replied Loki proudly. "We've never had a shortage or excessive quantities."

Matt raised his eyebrows.

"Congratulations?"

"Thank you. Getting back to the sale, I've seen it increase customer orders."

"It probably does. A small percentage off can attract new customers without an excessive advertising campaign. Like covering delivery costs for a limited period, with internet orders, this kind of operation works well."

"Delivery costs?" repeated the Jotun thoughtfully, settling back into his chair. "You are our accountant too, you should know that they're non-existent."

"I haven't had a chance to catch up with all the nonsensical junk you've been storing," the lawyer argued.

Between the papers that really concerned the company and had to be kept, the invoices for gasoline or restaurants and the astronomical losses on the company's account labeled "belote" (he had to look into this very seriously, he didn't understand.) the administrative paperwork was continually piling up, in an aberrant mess.

"Wait, we don't pay any delivery charges? That is not possible."

"An... arrangement with the relevant departments," evaded Loki, putting his heels on his desk. "What about the sales?"

"I will see what I can do," Matt sighed with a hint of defeatism.

Loki hung up immediately, all cheered up. What he needed with a sale was a good publicity boost!

"Ah! Move over cat!"

The animal, who had been gently grooming himself on the computer keyboard, was hassled until he finally ran away. In revenge, he went roaming the Tower in search of confidential documents that he could surgically make unreadable with his claws. Cardboard folders illustrated with big words in red capitals were more pleasant to his paws.

Leaving his cat to his own devious schemes, Loki worked out his strategy of seduction. After a little over an hour, he sent a meeting notification to his dear subordinates. The show could begin.

"Loki?"

Loki looked up from his computer. Pepper. Pepper and her daughter.

"Could you watch Morgan for a moment, please? Clint obviously took advantage of the sales to buy some t-o-y-s and I've got to go and sort them out before anyone notices."

The god sighed, looked down at the child and smiled awkwardly.

"All right. But not for long."

"Thank you so much you make my life so much easier! Be good, darling, Mommy will be back soon."

With the child in his lap, Loki resumed his diabolical preparations. Nevertheless, the impractical situation called for a slight change if he was not to be slowed down in a destructive creative impulse. Morgan too often reached out her hands to snatch pens from him, dropping them to the floor as soon as another caught her eye, all the while babbling happily.

There weren't a thousand possible solutions. Loki lifted the child and set off into the Tower in search of the child's harness. He quickened his pace when he spotted Clint at the end of a corridor. Sitting cross-legged at the foot of a wall, he was chatting with Fury. The canine Fury. The one who was supposed to stay in the lobby and not go upstairs. Stark was going to be thrilled.

With Pepper not returning and Loki having to assume his responsibilities as boss, he launched his meeting as planned, Morgan in the middle of a nap harnessed to his chest. The enchantress found the scene frighteningly cheesy and took a screenshot, which she preciously saved.

The god stood at the side of his whiteboard, marker in hand. Facing him on his screen were the bored faces of people forced to respond to his video meetings. Dormammu, with his experience in after-sales service, had reached a milestone in his mastery of technology and was discreetly playing a game of online belote on the second monitor of his computer. He fervently hoped that no one would notice the strange glances that were a little too frequent. Fortunately for him, far too bored and not all that interested in the meeting, his colleagues (well, especially the enchantress) were just looking at Loki's camera and not paying him any attention. He was safe. After a quick recap of the past week's sales, it was time to get down to the real business of the day. The god had the enthusiasm of a child.

"Now, imagine a house of some kind," he said, tracing a shape that could only be imagined as cubic.

Morgan could probably have drawn the same thing if she'd been awake. The Jotun didn't need to dwell on well-illustrated images to explain the situation to his team, so why waste time? A vaguely appropriate form and he could get on with it. That is, if his employees weren't constantly interrupting him with trivial questions.

"Why a house?" rightly asked the lawyer. "I don't see the connection with what we're selling."

"Shh, not important. And this house has legs, big legs, enormous legs of... alligator! I love those things."

"Oh!" exclaimed the enchantress, "just like Baba Yaga!"

"Baba... Yaga?"

"A witch in a Midgardian story."

"A Russian tale," Murdock clarified.

"Never heard of her."

"She's got a house, or maybe more of a hut, it's set in the woods I think... Well, the house has chicken feet to catch any victims who try to escape."

"And to think some people say I'm cruel," muttered Dormammu in his corner.

"Chicken feet? Ridiculous. It'll be much classier with alligator legs."

"And I think they say his sons are snakes too," Amora added.

Loki straightened up sharply.

"This is totally irrelevant! Let's stick to my idea with a house on legs. Which has. Never. Been done."

"As you wish, boss."

He cleared his throat and tapped the side of his board with the cap of his marker.

"This house is going to go around New York, maybe even further after the test phase, to launch ads everywhere."

"Launch?"

"Yes. Someone at the window, I imagine. There must be students looking for ways to pay for their education in this city. Or a fan placed behind a pile of leaves, it's a detail."

"A detail that matters," says Amora. "You can buy a fan and do what you want with it. A student, on the other hand, is going to create a lot of paperwork."

This last word tickled the lawyer, who took the opportunity to speak up.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

'We're going to have to put a stop to this defeatist talk, it doesn't fit in with the company's spirit at all. It's a great idea, what's the worst that could happen?'

On the screen, Loki's employees remained silent for long seconds. And - Loki was sadly used to this by now - the proposals came thick and fast:

'The house rebels and goes completely out of control?"

"It's killed hundreds of people under its giant crocodile paws?"

"Someone replaces our ads with flyers for home food delivery?"

"Someone sues us for plagiarism or counterfeiting?"

"Need I remind you of the possibility of loss of life?"

"The real Baba Yaga arrives in New York?"

"But she doesn't exist," says Matt. "She is a fairy tale."

There was another silence.

"... Do you even know who your employer is? Who Dormammu is? Who I am?"

The lawyer cocked his head slightly to one side.

"That's true," he admitted. "That's still a possibility. So, we've already talked about possible deaths in the hundreds. We can add colossal collateral damage. What else..."

"After the tragedy, which is bound to happen, we find out it was our idea?"

"The Avengers blow it up?"

Loki was speechless for a moment. His employees were always much more vocal when it came to destroying his ideas. He was going to deduct salaries if they continued.

"You are exaggerating there is no chance of that. We're launching this next week."

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

At 04:27, Amora's phone screen lit up with the image of a snake, and the ringing sound echoed in her room.

"But it was on silent," she groaned as she fumbled to pick up the phone.

"I've had a brilliant idea! Even more than usual!"

Amora rubbed her eyes and pulled the device away from her ear.

"I'm listening," she mumbled, trying to put an end to her torment as quickly as possible.

"More houses!"

"... What?"

"We need more houses. One is good, but two is better and three is even better! So imagine if we took..."

"Yeah, great, we'll talk about it tomorrow," yawned Amora as she hung up.

She immediately put the phone on airplane mode and returned to her night.

Loki remained staring at his laptop, a look of royal indignation on his face. He was just about to pay her a visit and explain what he thought of her telephone manners when he came across the new name in his contacts. He pulled himself together and called his new best friend. One call. He tapped his desk with the tips of his fingernails. Two calls. His foot twitched. The third time, after two interminable rings, Matt Murdock finally picked up, breathing heavily.

"What? I'm in the middle of something."

"What could be more important than my great idea?"

Daredevil tightened and loosened his fingers around his Billy club, resisting the urge to reply that the three currently unconscious criminals lying at his feet most certainly were. He deeply regretted taking out his phone, but he had planned a quick distraction, and what better than an unexpected ring for that? He wiped his bloody nose with the back of his armed hand and sniffed.

"What's going on?"

"Wait, you're not asleep? I thought you guys slept at night."

" ... I have... duties."

"Okay," says Loki, who wasn't that interested in the lives of his employees. "My idea is to put up more houses."

Matt jabbed the shin of one of the men, who had just regained consciousness and was trying to crawl away, and listened carefully. There were only three heartbeats around him, so everything was still under control.

"You want more houses?"

"Yes."

"You really called me for that?"

"You're the one in charge of the budget, I've got to keep you informed," Loki justified.

The other man sighed into his phone.

"I'll deal with it later."

Loki hung up, satisfied. One problem down. His gaze slid back to the coffee cup lying next to his hand. More precisely, on the coaster under the cup. Loki pushed the cup aside and retrieved his S.H.I.E.L.D. card. He passed it between his fingers with a pensive pout. Then, frowning, he brought it up to his face. Teeth marks distorted one corner. He looked down at the cat purring innocently, curled up on a pile of sheets.

"Mm..."

He tapped the top of the animal's skull with two fingers, thinking hard.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

A short week later, Loki had arranged to meet Amora in a residential area. The two were the first to see a house on legs. The first creation stood up slowly, stumbled and got used to the fragile balance between its two legs.

"Why two legs?" asked Amora, arms crossed. "Four would have been more steady."

Loki let out a reflective noise and turned his head towards a second house. He shrugged.

"Four legs it is."

Ignoring the first house as it drifted towards the center, Loki conjured up four gigantic alligator legs.

"Better?" he asked, frowning.

"Actually, no... It's just as bizarre. But who knows, maybe it'll go faster?"

No. Absolutely not. It was just crushing more cars with each step. The extra legs added nothing to its performance.

"Shall we call it a day?"

Loki agreed. Two houses for the test phase, dozens for the big day.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Unfortunately, New Yorkers were used to waking up to find their city invaded by aliens, their cars blown out - the collateral damage of a wild chase - or simply blown to smithereens. Occasionally, a wall of their building or a stretch of road had been ripped out to serve as ammunition for the Hulk. On rarer occasions, an empty suit of armor would hand them a check, a meager monetary consolation offered by Stark Industries. Yet every morning, they felt a terrible apprehension as they left their homes, the residue of the slim hope they still held. Would the day start normally? And when it didn't, how impossible was the event unfolding before their eyes?

On this fine morning, the probability of the event that would destroy three districts of the city was so low it was almost zero; and yet...

The road asphalt was strangely sunken, giving the impression that a... Giant alligator's paw had rested on it. Strange as it may seem, this was the explanation given by the media. And one never questioned the news on television. Apart from that, the day seemed normal.

The Avengers had fought through the night and still hadn't cleaned up their mess, it happened. Then, a series of shouts rose abruptly from the end of an avenue and spread through the crowd.

A house floated in the air, surrounded by a strange mist. A second roof appeared behind it as a titanic scaly paw emerged from the mist to crush a bus.

A muffled cry of victory rose from the human audience. The man behind the noise drew outraged looks from his neighbors. Daring to celebrate the umpteenth destruction of the city in public? How dare he?

"Sorry, it's just... My car's right next to it and I've just had the windshield replaced and it hasn't been..."

The second house moved forward and one then two legs passed over the car, transforming it into a strange metallic pancake. In a heavy silence, the faces that had followed the destruction turned to watch the painful realization of the owner. He burst into tears.

Higher up, far removed from car insurance worries, Steve clutched a hand to the top of one of the Quinjet's armchairs and brought the other to his ear.

"Excuse me, Tony, could you repeat that?"

"A house with alligator legs, Captain."

The soldier grimaced slightly. No, it didn't make any more sense the second time.

"You see, there must have been a moment in the... creation of this thing where someone said to themselves 'I don't know why, but I have a feeling it's going to go wrong.' And what we can learn from this story is that this person wasn't listened to. And that's a shame, because they were right."

"Thanks for that analysis, Clint. Now can you open the hatch so we can jump out?"

"Oh, yes, of course."

"It's all very sweet to jump, but I still don't see how we're going to be able to stop them."

"Cut off the legs?"

"We'll improvise once they're away from the civilians."

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Matt grunted and folded back the sides of his pillow to protect his ears from the incessant ringing of the telephone. Still, he heard Foggy's footsteps as he left his chair.

"Are you all right?"

"Nah," he grunted, closing his eyes. "Remind me to buy some earplugs, Foggy."

"You've been saying that for months."

"I've been busy."

"You're always busy, Matt. Take an aspirin and answer the phone please we're not going to make it otherwise."

A phone rang again and Matt let out a pained noise. Foggy picked it up.

"Nelson & Murdock, Nelson speaking."

"I absolutely need a rereading of my insurance contract."

The lawyer raised his eyebrows; people had no manners anymore.

"Hello," he continued. "Can I ask what for?"

"What do you mean? You don't know about these things that are destroying the city?"

"Of course I know, we get a lot of calls about it, but it's always possible that we'll be contacted about something else."

"Alright well that is my problem."

Matt grunted and pressed the pillow a little harder. Foggy lowered his voice slightly.

"Yes, of course."

"My insurance covers me for the Avengers damage, but I've been denied compensation, so I need-"

"A reread, yes. I understand, but not all the damage today was caused by the Avengers."

"But my insurance..."

"I hear what you're saying."

"I'm fully insured!"

"Sir, please. Just hear me out, if your insurance covers the Avengers damage that's fine for you, but only if we confirm it was their doing."

"If it wasn't the Avengers, who would do this to our city?"

"How should I know? I'm a lawyer, not an investigator."

"So nobody knows where this house with the chicken feet came from?"

"No, that was in the fairy tale, today it was alligator legs."

Matt heard Foggy's interlocutor break down.

"... I want to get out of this town. We're not in Florida here, why would I need alligator insurance?"

"I... I understand, yes. I'm sorry, I didn't think I'd ever put that in a contract either. I'll take your name and get back to you as soon as we have the identity of the culprit to review your contract and see what we can do."

Foggy finished his call and turned back to Matt.

"So..."

"I've heard the whole conversation. One more."

'This is the..." Foggy looked at a sheet of paper with a sigh. "Forty-eighth."

"Remember when we were desperate for customers? I miss those days."

"Want to get back into bank and tax reminders?"

Matt straightened up, abandoning his pillow.

"You know what I mean."

"Do you know who we owe all this to?"

Matt turned his head to his friend.

"Maybe."

"Of course."

"Hey! Not this time! I've been contacted to keep an eye on someone."

"Contacted? By whom?"

"Technically, by Doctor Strange."

"Doctor... The Doctor Strange?"

"Yes, Foggy. The Doctor Strange."

"I thought you didn't interfere with the Avengers?"

"Strange isn't an Avenger. He contacted me as the founder of the Defenders. You know, my team...?"

Foggy stared at him, frowning.

"How many superhero teams are fighting in our city?"

Matt squinted behind his glasses as he heard an alarm on their street.

"Frankly, Foggy, I don't know. A lot?"

Then he turned his head towards the door and Foggy's head plunged forward.

"Oh no..."

"A customer," Matt concluded, before a silhouette appeared through the glass door.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Loki crossed his arms in front of the TV. The superb advertising idea had backfired. Who could have predicted it? He scratched the back of his neck and put his earpiece back in place.

"We need a creative person in this company..."

"It's out of the question," Matt replied implacably in his ear."

"I'll take the job, then."

"I'll find someone," cut in the other. "It'll be better for everyone. Just give me a few weeks, your publicity is giving me a lot of work."

Magnanimously, Loki agreed. Then he hung up, deciding it was the perfect time to go and see what that "a lot of work" was all about.

Matt came to an abrupt halt as he was about to jump off a roof. A heart was beating in his back. A heart that hadn't been there a second earlier. Someone who hadn't walked in like a normal human. He inhaled slowly through his nose. Of course he did.

"... Loki?"

Intrigued, the god tilted his head to one side as Daredevil faced him.

"You recognized me easily."

"The smell."

"We'd never met before," the Jotun reminded him.

"No, but I've had the good fortune to walk behind your destruction in the city many times. The smell of your magic is easily identifiable."

"The smell of... My magic leaves a scent?!"

"For me, at least. And, believe me, the smell stays with you."

Loki looked down at his clothes with a disgusted pout. Here was a piece of information that would follow him all his life. Daredevil returned to his sound contemplation of the city.

"What are you doing here, Loki? You usually stay in Manhattan."

"I was looking for you, but there's something more important. What are you? A blind vigilante? That's original."

"That is secret."

"Secret? You're not one of Stark's gang, are you?"

"Be an Avengers? Nonsense. Unlike them, I like the secrecy of my secret identity."

"I could tell you were the devil. It makes it look very easy for everyone to guess."

"And I'd rather stay away from Stark," said Matt, pretending he hadn't heard.

Loki nodded. He could understand that. Matt raised a hand to point an index finger in his direction.

"If you are looking for me to ask if I can also be the 'creative' in your company, the answer is no. And if it's to ask if I've found someone, that is also a no. Now if..." He turned his head sharply to the right and tilted it rapidly from right to left. "I'd better be off."

And he leapt into the void. Loki put his hands in his pockets and looked down at his flying shoes. It was time to keep an eye on his employees.