After disguising a White Zetsu as Nick Fury, Senju Haruto instructed it to return to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.
The real Fury was the undisputed King of Spies in the Marvel universe, a man who held countless secrets. But even he could never hope to unravel everything about a being like White Zetsu—something that had crossed over from another world entirely.
And Haruto, as someone who had traveled from another reality and was intimately familiar with the Marvel Cinematic Universe, was more than capable of filling in any gaps in White Zetsu's memory.
"Don't worry, Hokage-sama. I won't slip up."
The White Zetsu disguised as Fury—"Fake Fury," for short—spoke with confidence.
Haruto had even provided him with the smallest details: how Fury disliked being called "Nick," how he would never eat bread cut into triangles, and so on.
Just as Haruto was about to send him off, the familiar voice of his check-in system chimed in his ear again:
Please proceed to S.H.I.E.L.D. for check-in!
Complete check-in to receive a reward!
"S.H.I.E.L.D., huh?"
Haruto frowned slightly. The choice of check-in location wasn't entirely unexpected, though it came earlier than he'd anticipated.
After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. was one of the most prominent organizations in the MCU. In Captain America: The Winter Soldier, it was practically the film's main stage.
With that in mind, Haruto had always assumed he would eventually have to check in there. He just hadn't thought it would be so soon.
"Well then… looks like I'll be paying S.H.I.E.L.D. a visit."
And with Fake Fury by his side, there was no need to fabricate excuses or find a way to sneak in.
All he had to do was walk in beside the so-called Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., head held high, and complete the check-in.
In reality, of course, the man next to him wasn't Fury at all. He was merely White Zetsu in disguise—a being who would obey only Haruto's command.
With his master's order, Fake Fury left the New York Sanctum without hesitation.
Haruto could have opened a portal straight to S.H.I.E.L.D., but there was no need.
For one thing, he wasn't in a rush. For another, relying on portals everywhere he went robbed the journey of its charm. Sometimes, sitting in the passenger seat with the wind on your face had its own appeal.
Besides, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters wasn't far from the New York Sanctum. Just well-hidden. To most of the world, S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't exist at all.
Before long, Fake Fury led Haruto to the headquarters.
It was dignified. Imposing. Luxurious.
One glance was enough to inspire awe.
"For a man who's always complaining about funding shortages, Fury sure doesn't make this place look cheap," Haruto thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Back before his crossing, he'd admired Fury's talent for resourcefulness. The man wasn't a billionaire like Stark, nor did he have Wakanda's vibranium mines to fall back on.
Yet somehow, he'd still managed to build multiple Helicarriers. That was no small feat.
"Let's go."
Haruto withdrew his gaze, speaking softly.
Fake Fury said nothing, deliberately taking the lead by half a step to match the persona he was playing—the proud, confident man who could spit out a sharp "motherf—er" at any moment.
Haruto followed silently.
As Fake Fury pushed through the revolving doors into the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, every gaze in the lobby immediately locked onto him.
Haruto swept his eyes across the room. Respect and admiration filled every glance directed at Fury.
It reminded Haruto of a certain legend.
The story went that Fury had once fought alien civilizations in the cold depths of space to protect Earth. He'd lost his eye in the battle.
Modern medicine could have restored his vision easily, but Fury had refused. He claimed he kept the injury as a reminder—to never forget the enemies hiding in the shadows.
The truth, of course… was that his eye had been scratched out by a cat named Goose.
Not that Goose was an ordinary cat.
Haruto couldn't help chuckling inwardly as the memory crossed his mind.
By then, they had already reached the elevators.
Although the staff respected and admired Fury, none approached to greet him. Everyone knew he disliked pointless small talk. To him, wasted courtesies were less valuable than putting time into real work.
"Director Fury."
A familiar voice called out from behind them, interrupting their path to the elevator.
Fake Fury turned instinctively, scanning the crowd.
Haruto didn't bother looking around. Instead, he extended his spiritual sense and locked onto the source instantly.
Just as he'd guessed.
The man was none other than Phil Coulson, the well-known Level 7 agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Director Fury," Coulson called again, jogging up with an excited look on his face.
His eyes quickly shifted to the young man standing beside Fury.
"Hello. I'm Agent Coulson."
Polite, professional. He didn't know Haruto's identity, but anyone walking alongside Fury like this had to be significant.
"Have we met before?" Coulson asked suddenly.
The more he looked, the more familiar Haruto seemed. But no matter how he searched his memory, he couldn't place him.
For someone like Coulson, used to distinguishing details in Western faces, Asian features often blurred together. Differences were hard to pick out.
"You can call me Haruto."
Senju Haruto smiled faintly. He had a certain fondness for Coulson.
"Do you need something from me?"
Fake Fury cut in smoothly, staying true to character.
At the sound of "the Director" speaking, Coulson snapped back to the matter at hand. His eyes lit up as he pulled a thick folder from under his arm.
"Director, we've found them. We've found that person!"
The excitement in his voice left no room for doubt.
Hearing those words, Haruto's mind immediately conjured up a certain familiar silhouette—a certain iconic backside.
After all, very few people in the Marvel world could make Coulson this excited.