Chapter 56: The Best Psychological Counselor—Green
Without a moment's hesitation, black energy rose from beneath the ninja's clothes, his eyes clouded with blood. With a flick of his wrist, a kunai sprang from his sleeve as he twisted his body to strike at Green.
"I—"
*Smack!*
Green's hand blurred as he delivered a slap in an instant.
A crack exploded in the air.
The ninja's field of vision suddenly shifted from the man in front of him to the space beyond the edge of the rooftop.
"Huh?"
He was dazed; how was he seeing the scenery behind him?
The pain from that side of his face finally arrived, late, transmitted to a brain that had been turned to mush.
His body caught fire and quickly turned into a pile of ashes on the ground.
"It seems the concept of 'weapon' in the template is quite broad." Green looked at his hand, which was covered in a faint white halo.
He lowered his gaze to the two piles of ash on the ground.
"As for these two... black energy? Their hearts no longer belong to humanity."
The Hand, originated from five Elders of Kunlun's Order of the Crane Mother:
Alexandra, Madame Gao, Murakami, Sowande, and Bakuto.
Calling themselves the "Five Fingers," they sought immortality and attempted to resurrect themselves using dragon bones. After being expelled from Kunlun, they founded The Hand. They were experts in black magic and resurrecting corpses, and were old rivals of the likes of Iron Fist and Daredevil.
Only...
"Playing house right under my nose, are we? And Kingpin, you've done well."
He didn't believe in coincidences.
Those five cockroaches would never dare make an enemy easily without precise intelligence and confidence.
The only possibility was that information was circulating in the underworld.
As for the source, given the objective, it could only be Kingpin, wanting to kill with a borrowed knife or drag him into the game to deal with The Hand.
"Hmph."
Green crushed the phone on the ground with one foot, sending ashes flying as he ground his sole against them.
"Once the dragon bones are dug up, those old fogies will be useless, and Kingpin can take a slice of the pie."
He flipped over and leaped off the rooftop.
Behind him, the two piles of ash were swept up by the wind as raindrops fell, wetting them and flattening them out.
Soon, these remains would become part of the rooftop's hard, dry moss, unknown and unnoticed.
Green's figure leaped several times within the alley before landing lightly on the ground and walking toward the car parked at the street corner.
Beside the car, a man was squatting, busy picking the lock.
Green kicked him, the sound of ribs shattering clearly audible.
The man wailed and collapsed.
Green glanced at a few young men acting as lookouts in the distance.
Their expressions changed, and they decisively abandoned their companion, turning to run.
That was just how America was.
If something was left unattended for a while, scavengers would randomly spawn, or those "squids" who shamelessly claimed God gave it to them thousands of years ago to take it as their own.
Green was very kind.
He only made him feel pain, rather than having him stuffed into a plastic bag by some gang and thrown into the river in pieces.
There was still a chance of survival.
The vehicle drove away, exhaust spraying onto the face of the young man curled on the ground.
He struggled to lift his head, eyes bloodshot, staring intently at the taillights as they disappeared around the corner.
...
In New York Square, a burly white man was running through the crowd of people holding umbrellas.
He didn't even know why he was running; his chaotic thoughts drove his limbs, as if something would catch up to him if he just stopped.
The neon screens of the surrounding buildings cycled through glitzy advertisements.
Voices, car sounds, and advertisement jingles were all interwoven.
Mist from the rain floated in the air, merging with the hazy gray sky in the distance.
Everything had changed, yet everything seemed the same.
He exhaled a puff of white mist into the cold, damp rain, stopped his pace, and looked around with panicked eyes.
Several black sedans drove in from all sides, surrounding him.
"Calm down, soldier."
The car doors opened, and Agent in black suits filed out, parting the crowd.
A one-eyed black man wearing a long black coat stepped forward, his tone calm.
"We thought it best to let you take this in slowly."
But he didn't notice that the burly white man was panting heavily, staring at him with a hint of confusion in his eyes.
"Take what in?" the man asked, his tone a bit irritable.
"Take in the fact that this black guy became your boss."
A voice suddenly cut in.
Both men looked over at the same time.
Green was leaning against the hood of one of the black cars, legs crossed, eating potato chips.
"Want some? Cucumber flavor." He gestured with the bag toward Steve Rogers nearby.
"Hey! I asked you here to soothe him, not provoke him! Your commentary is completely unnecessary!" Nick Furyshouted.
"And also, racial discrimination is not allowed in my territory!"
"Are you the Boss?" Steve asked, looking at Green.
Nick Fury's face turned even darker.
What the hell? I'm dressed so sharp, and you just have to think this guy in worker's clothes is the boss?
"I didn't expect you to find out so soon." Level 1 Field Agent Green smiled, raising an eyebrow with a hint of approval in his eyes.
"Good eye."
"After all, the way these people look at me is with caution and scrutiny, but you're not like that. You even look down on me a bit."
"Don't mind it." Green stood up.
"It's not just you that I look down on."
He casually handed the bag of chips to the Agent beside him.
"Huh? Th... thanks."
The Agent held the chips, looking completely dazed.
Green pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket and casually handed them to Nick Fury.
"Go buy me a pack of America brand cigarettes, lackey."
Nick Fury: "..."
He was extremely annoyed! But seeing that Steve clearly believed Green, he reluctantly took the money.
Looking down, two of the three bills were fake. Good grief, where did he get counterfeit money from this time? And the denominations...
"Is this enough?"
"Can't you just expense more when you get back?"
"What the fuck?!" Nick Fury was so angry he laughed.
Right in front of him, the Director, asking him to go back to the agency and cook the books?
He pointed directly at Green: "Motherfu—"
Green didn't pay him any mind, familiarly putting an arm around Steve as they walked.
"I know you're confused about how a cotton-picker worked his way up to a position of authority, but it's fine. This country is still the same shitty way it was, just with more complicated tricks."
The two walked away, leaving behind a Nick Fury who couldn't even get his "fuck" out.
"Director... should we stop them?" an Agent tentatively asked.
"You're so capable, you go do it," Nick Fury snapped, hands on his hips.
"Aren't you the Director? Why put the pressure on me..." the Agent muttered, calling his companions to leave.
"No wonder you can't grow hair despite buying all those stimulants."
"What?! I heard that, John! Your funding for this year is gone!" Nick Fury yelled at the top of his lungs.
No one cared.
Anyway, no one had seen that money since a few years ago. Who knew what secret operation that "braised egg" had used it for.
Steve was gone, the mission was complete. Off work!
"A bunch of heartless bastards."
Nick Fury turned around and found that the car behind him was also gone, leaving him only with the sight of a receding trunk.
"I didn't even get in the car!"
After a moment of silence, he silently raised his hand, preparing to hail a yellow taxi.
However, his luck wasn't great.
The driver of the approaching car was a genuine Americaredneck. He floored the gas and roared past him, splashing a wave of puddles all over him.
Nick Fury's hand froze in mid-air, water dripping down his waterproof fabric.
"Damn America!!"
Meanwhile, inside the car.
Steve stroked the interior, his gaze somewhat dazed.
"Only the feel of an internal combustion engine remains unchanged."
His voice carried the magnetic charm unique to Americamen, along with those prominent pectoral muscles. One had to admit, this guy was indeed a catch in the eyes of Western women.
"Don't get my car all wet, blondie."
Green stepped on the gas, one hand resting on the window as he handed him a cigarette.
"Thanks."
Steve took it and reached for the lighter on the center console.
The moment his palm touched the metal surface, he let go as if struck by an electric shock, staring in surprise at the lighter on the console.
"That's mine, Boy." Green picked up the silver lighter, flicked open the lid, and struck the wheel.
"Only I can make her fire up."
Steve gave Green a hesitant look, as if he saw the shadow of an old acquaintance in him.
He slowly leaned toward the flame and lit his first cigarette in nearly a hundred years.
"Whew—that's the stuff." Whether it was the effect of the nicotine or the influence of the roguish guy beside him, Steve let down his guard, leaned back comfortably in his seat, and grinned.
"Mm-hmm, of course I can make you feel good." Green bit the filter and moved the flame over to light his own.
"Your tone is very similar to someone I once knew," Stevesaid, a hint of memory flashing in his eyes.
"An enemy?"
"Not exactly. He was... a more mature version of me. Maybe you've heard his name: Soldier Boy."
"Holy fuck! You were involved with him?"
"Met him a few times." Steve drifted into memory.
"The first time was at the Stark Expo. Bucky had found three, no, four girls.
And the most artistic one took a liking to me. But in the blink of an eye, she was taken into a photo booth, and within ten seconds, her underwear came flying out."
"Why?"
"Because he bought a bouquet of roses, and I bought her popcorn."
"...Butter flavor?"
"Is that the point?!"
"And after that?"
"After that, it was fighting Hydra. This guy was like a rockstar on a high.
The time that sticks in my mind most was when he killed the pilot on a plane and then, right in front of the corpse, without any cover... cough, you know, with his girlfriend.
The plane was crashing at the time, and none of us knew how to fly. Then, when skydiving, he was still holding onto her... doing that."
As Steve finished, he saw Green's eyes light up.
"That's creative!"
"...Huh?"
Steve fell silent.
Don't tell him that modern Agent are all like Green; that's too chaotic. Had Hydra won during all those years he was frozen? Wait, this guy seemed to be the head of the Agent!
"Alright, I don't play like that." Green couldn't help but laugh at Steve's look of being on high alert.
"The risk is too high. It would be a disaster if there was poison hidden inside."
"...What can I say? Should I praise you?"
"So, are you a virgin?" Green handed him a bottle of water.
"No." Steve curled his lip, unscrewed the cap, and tilted his head back to drain it.
He had been running for a long time, which made him reminisce about the time he chased the spy who assassinated Dr. Erskine. That was the first time he had run so freely, so fast.
He couldn't help but shake his head and laugh.
He was getting old, dwelling too much on memories.
However, he didn't see the strange glint that flashed in Green's eyes as he watched him finish the water.
"That's good, though it doesn't matter anyway."
"What?" Steve was just wondering.
Green suddenly slammed on the brakes.
"Where is this?" Steve looked out the car window.
In front of a shop with a pink, suggestive style, several heavily made-up women saw them and their eyes lit up.
"What are you do—"
*Click!*
Before he could finish, a pain shot through his neck, like a needle prick, and the needle felt quite thick.
He instinctively raised a hand to press on the sore spot, then immediately threw a punch at Green.
Green quickly raised an elbow to block.
"How is that possible?!"
Steve's eyes were filled with surprise; the counterforce made the bones in his hand ache.
"Are you a super Agent?"
"What a lame name." Green shook the subcutaneous chip forceps in his hand. "I'm a temp."
"A tracking device was implanted in you. I helped you take it out. I've put some money in here; have fun, no one will disturb you."
"What?" Steve was confused, and his body began to feel inexplicably hot.
He looked down at the water bottle in his hand, and then at the bulge forming.
"What did you give me to drink?"
"A gonadotropin-inducing agent, or 'aphrodisiac' for short." Green flicked his cigarette ash out the window and turned back with a half-smile.
"Your metabolism is much faster than a normal person's, so I switched it to a veterinary dose for you."
Steve was stunned.
"Come on, man." Green bit his cigarette.
"Did you really think I was your Agent Carter, your psychological counselor? Of course not. So, enjoy yourself."
He exhaled a puff of smoke.
"Oh, right, you owe me a favor."
Green gave a look to the woman who had walked up to the car door. The woman nodded understandingly.
"Ladies, let our American Sweetheart have a thorough warm-up. Let him experience how we play in the 21st century."
"You... I... what is wrong with you!" Steve's mind was a mess.
He looked at Green, then at the women walking over.
To be honest, he was almost losing control of himself, especially when the woman's hand touched his arm—he nearly lost his mind!
"Just how much did you put in?!"
"What do you mean 'how much'?" Green raised an eyebrow.
"That whole bottle. Do you like cola flavor? I can mix that for you next time."
"No, why do you have this kind of thing in your car?! Fuck you!" Steve couldn't help but swear.
"The one you're going to fuck isn't me." Green took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly.
"You haven't used it in so many years; it needs some oiling. That's why I found mature women for you. Don't worry."
"Let's go~ Big Boy."
Several women opened the car door, pressed against him, unfastened his seatbelt, and led the groggy man into that decadent paradise.
"Don't go too hard, Steve," Green shouted from behind.
"If you crush their heads, I'll have to take you down for the sake of justice."
"Yeah, taking down Captain America on behalf of America."
"My, oh my~ I really am such a good person."
Green flicked away his cigarette butt, rolled up the window, and rested one hand on the steering wheel, tapping it lightly.
"So... where to now?"
He tilted his head, looking a bit troubled.
Something supposedly happened over at the Canyon, and the time has been extended. He didn't know when they'd set out.
"I've been killing too fast these past two months; I haven't had my fill yet."
Suddenly, a thought flashed by.
"Right, let's go see how my armor is coming along!"
Chapter 57: The Oriole Behind the Lens
"Why do I have such an ominous feeling..."
In the office, Stan shuddered.
"Sir, is the air conditioning set too low?" the female secretary at the desk asked with concern.
"Mind your own business, get out!"
Stan's eyes were gloomy as he slammed the desk and pointed his hand toward the door.
"OK, OK." The secretary was startled and hurriedly walked away in her high heels.
"Wait, Reese," Stan suddenly called out to her.
"Yes?" The secretary turned back and asked cautiously.
"Go pour me a cup of cappuccino."
He paused, and looking at this attractive woman, some of his inexplicable irritation dissipated.
"Forget it, I'll go myself. You go down to the 41st floor and see if the data transmission for Osborn's glider prototype has come through yet."
"Understood, I'll upload the report shortly."
Stan walked past the desk and patted her shoulder.
"Sorry, I've been having trouble sleeping lately. In my dreams, there's always an owl trying to devour my brain."
"I understand. Running such a large company puts a lot of pressure on you."
The secretary's expression was gentle as she reached out to straighten the wrinkles on Stan's suit and that black brooch.
"Perhaps we could go to Hawaii for a few cocktails and stay for a few days before coming back."
Stan didn't respond, only lifting her hand and giving it a gentle kiss on the back.
"Go on."
"Mhm."
The secretary turned and left.
The moment the door closed, the gentleness on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a coldness and even a hint of undisguised disgust.
She raised her hand and vigorously rubbed the spot where she had just been kissed against her coat.
Stan didn't see any of this.
He walked into the pantry to pour coffee, staring absentmindedly at the mirror on the wall, failing to notice the cup was full until the scalding liquid overflowed onto his hand.
"Ow—Fuck!"
He roared, grabbing the coffee cup and smashing it onto the floor, shards and liquid flying everywhere.
He propped his hands against the wall, breathing deeply, trying his best to calm his surging emotions.
To be honest, Green had become his inner demon.
Of the two top assassin organizations he knew, one had proactively removed him from their list, and the other had been uprooted by the opponent just as they made their move.
He pulled out some blood pressure medication, tossed a few pills into his mouth, and then took his private elevator downstairs.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Pepper stepped out of the public elevator and peeked around cautiously.
Tony suspected Stan was up to something in private, but Stan's mainframe was independent.
Tony couldn't show his face, so he could only trust Pepperto come and check.
"I hope you're wrong, Tony."
Pepper gripped the slip of paper in her hand. On it was a string of phone numbers Tony had given her for emergencies; he'd had a very strange expression when he gave it to her, telling her never to use it unless absolutely necessary.
Bastard! I'm definitely going to have to use it!
She had no background. In a fight between big shots of this level, if they felt she was an obstacle, they could dispose of her at a whim.
She took a deep breath and slowly approached the office.
Stan left Stark Tower alone and entered one of the surrounding industrial zones.
He took an elevator down to a privately developed area.
Mechanical hydraulics operated around him. He walked up a raised steel ladder, gazing obsessively at the humanoid armor before him.
Three meters tall, heavy, and even somewhat crude in craftsmanship.
A titanium alloy shell, loaded with multiple weapon systems—Gatling guns, howitzers, tracking rockets—all crammed into this iron shell pieced together by heavy industry.
It couldn't be called sleek mechanical beauty, yet it exuded the cold killing intent inherent in mechanical assembly.
"Quite the fighter, aren't you?" Stan stared menacingly at the iron mask on the armor, as if declaring something to someone, venting his long-accumulated fear.
"Let's see how well you can fight! I'll fucking blast you to death with saturation fire!"
He stroked the vacant energy component in the armor's chest, his gaze gradually turning fierce.
"It's mostly complete now. All that's left is this."
"No one else is reliable; I have to do this myself!"
"Tony, I'll send Pepper down to join you, hahahaha..."
The sinister laughter echoed in the empty space.
He didn't notice at all that beneath the decorative shell of that black brooch on his chest, a red light was faintly blinking.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Division Three, Research Area.
"Is this bald guy done laughing? He looks like an idiot." Green watched the shaky screen, feeling a bit annoyed.
"However, seeing how hard he's working on the modifications, I'll be merciful and forgive you, Stan."
He sat at the desk with his arm around a shy, intellectual girl, his feet propped up as he watched the iron monger on the camera screen.
"Uh... but with such a large amount of high-risk explosives, I think the piloting risk is far beyond the average, Officer."
The girl's hands were held awkwardly in mid-air, her large ears turning red.
"Piloting a big toy like this is every man's dream. If you're afraid to die, you just don't have the destiny for it. Might as well go home and play with yourself instead."
"That... you're right!"
"Don't be nervous, Simmons. I'm also a Level 1 Agent; we're the same rank."
"Uh-hehe... I... I'm just a Level 1 intern, I can't compare to you." Jemma Simmons laughed forcedly.
"You just used a Level 1 clearance card to unlock a Level 3 Agent smart door in the Research Department, and you knew the computer password like the back of your hand," she muttered to herself.
"Simmons~ Simmons~" a science-and-engineering guy nearby whispered, waving at her. His movements were obvious, but he seemed to think he was being stealthy.
"Se-senior... I'll be right over." Simmons pointed over there.
"Ah, go ahead."
Green lifted his hand from her shoulder and picked up a pretzel from the desk, taking a large bite. It had been sitting out for a while and was a bit soft.
Simmons stood up awkwardly, gave him a bow, and then walked away quickly.
"Heh."
Green found it amusing as his other hand flipped through the information on the iron monger.
Stan's secretary, deliverymen, and even the electricians were all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel.
Ever since Green gave that USB drive to Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D. had begun its operation. They had gathered most of Stan's secrets during this time, while he still thought he was acting seamlessly.
"It's about time to harvest..."
"Simmons, did he do anything to you?" Fitz hurriedly looked her up and down.
"It's okay, Fitz. I'm fine," Simmons said helplessly.
"We look like we just came out of an ivory tower, while he is like one of those seniors in the workplace who enjoys teasing young girls."
[Note: Jemma Simmons, Bio-chemist/Exobiology expert; Leo Fitz, Genius Engineer/Mechanic, both from 'Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.']
"You're still defending him?!" The light in Fitz's eyes dimmed a bit.
"I'm just telling the truth... alright, I do have a tiny bit of personal interest." She pursed her lips bashfully.
"I want to analyze his physical structure. It's truly perfect. You have no idea about the muscles in his arms—"
"Alright, alright." Fitz quickly interrupted her.
"Agent Hill sent a message saying we should leave him alone. He has a special status and is a complete bastard. When Agent Hill described him, her expression was quite helpless."
"Fine." Simmons shrugged, about to turn around.
"What are you doing?"
"Going back to sit there."
"No, no, no," Fitz refused repeatedly.
"You two," Green spoke up at that moment.
"Yes!" the two of them responded instinctively.
"Help me put together a simple intelligent assisted-driving AI. Can you do it?" Green pointed at the computer, his meaning self-evident.
"Senior, I don't think the Director would be willing to give such a precious prototype to you." Simmons looked troubled.
"Whatever, just do it." Green lit a cigarette in his mouth.
"It's not the first time anyway."
The two of them, as if hearing some secret, quietly pursed their lips and exchanged a glance.
"Okay!" They agreed readily, even with a hint of excitement.
Since Green would take the fall anyway—they had graduated first and second in their class at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, and they hadn't come here just to organize files and patch bugs.
Green lowered his legs and stood up, exiting the interface. He intended to find some missions in the S.H.I.E.L.D.internal system to satisfy his hunger, but after clicking in, the entire interface was blank.
He was already used to this.
"Well then, I've been pre-selected again."
He guessed Nick Fury wanted him to carry out some secret operation again.
Judging by Green's guess of that black guy's style, he was probably lurking in some pitch-black corner of the underground parking lot waiting for him.
"Looks like there's work to do!"
He closed the interface and stretched.
Fitz clumsily used his hand to shield Simmons' curious gaze as she looked at Green.
"Don't block me!"
"No!"
"When it's done, send it to my personal terminal. You should have my info, right?"
"We do. It should be ready in about a week," Fitz said after a few seconds of pondering; he was very serious when it came to professional matters.
"Alright then." Green patted his shoulder, causing his body to buckle slightly.
"A man who thinks seriously is very handsome. Maybe you could try growing a beard; Simmons might like that look."
"Re... really?" Fitz puffed out his chest.
"Like hell! I'm right here as the person in question!" Simmons gave him an elbow in embarrassment.
"Heh."
Green left directly, along with a few pretzels from the plate, of course.
Ding—
The elevator descended to the parking lot.
Green chewed on a pretzel, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, as he walked to his pickup truck and was about to open the door.
A pack of cigarettes was thrown over.
Green caught it with one hand and looked at Nick Fury, who was walking out from behind the truck.
"You actually bought them."
He flipped through the cigarette pack, his tone casual.
"How long have you been waiting here? You didn't install anything weird on my truck, did you?"
Nick Fury's face darkened, not bothering to respond to that.
"Where's Steve? The tracking signal has been on your truck the whole time, but he's gone."
"He went swimming."
"Sw... swimming?" Nick Fury looked at Green in disbelief. "Do you take me for a fool?"
"Yeah, I picked spots with plenty of water for him."
Green chewed on a cracker and added indistinctly,
"So you could say he's swimming right now."
Nick Fury was silent for two seconds.
"...You sold him off to sea, didn't you?"
Based on his understanding of this bastard, whenever he started being vague or using puns, the other person was likely in a dire situation. Not necessarily dead, but certainly not having a good time.
"I don't really do that maritime trade stuff; the harvest cycle is too long."
Green opened the truck door, glanced back at him, and curled his lips.
"Besides, his type isn't as popular as yours."
"Motherfucker! Don't bring me into this, you bastard!" Nick Fury cursed as he sat in the passenger seat. "I'm here for serious business."
"Talk." Green quickly finished the last bite of the pretzel and pulled out some tissues to wipe his hands.
"You know about those vampires in Hell's Kitchen, right? After all, that's your territory."
"You're using the wrong word." Green threw away the tissues.
"That's not my territory; it's my hunting ground. However, I'll consider turning it into my territory."
"They belong to a magic race, the Kindred. Supernatural power, supernatural lifespan, feeding on blood.
Generally speaking, they've reached a secret coexistence with us, but one branch is defiant. However, after a long period of identity evolution and social structure infiltration, it's hard for us to take action against them—at least not in an official capacity."
"Uh-huh." Green's fingernail picked at the cigarette pack's wrapping paper.
"So it's another off-the-books operation."
"Green, the virus from this branch has infected many people. If it continues to spread like this, the impact will go beyond Hell's Kitchen. Many good people will die. We haven't developed a cure yet—not because our research level is lacking, but... you know,
And their physical thirst for blood is intense; if they don't feed for three days, they're no different from Beasts. So the current situation is that once a human is infected, it's irreversible.
Furthermore, that branch seems to be planning some sort of ritual. I don't think that ritual is for making popcorn machines.
The Kindred headquarters has reached a tacit agreement with us; that branch must be erased."
"Just tell me what you can give me." Green popped the cigarette lid with his thumb and bit onto a cigarette.
"Otherwise, I don't care how many more people they infect."
"Fuck, you really are cold-blooded."
"I just love myself." Green lit his cigarette.
"Also, you damn black guy, stop pretending to be a saint. It's disgusting. Don't forget who handles your dirty work."
"Just tell me the benefits. Got it?"
"Your criminal record as Owl will be erased."
"Not enough."
"You know what this means." Nick Fury frowned.
"You think I care about a criminal record? If I wanted to, it wouldn't stop me from running for President of the United States. Maybe these would even be pluses."
"Then what do you want?"
"15% of those Kindred's total assets."
"Too much."
"Do it yourself then, or send your favorites—Natasha, Barton, or Coulson. I think Coulson would be a good choice."
"...They have their own missions."
"Not my problem."
"I agree to your terms. I'll arrange a team to support you."
Nick Fury had his own plans—to collect some live Kindred samples to see if he could analyze an enhancement serum, but he couldn't mention this to Green, or he'd be shaken down again.
"Get ready to go to Stark Industries to recover the armor."
He didn't wait for Green's reply, pushing the door open and leaving the truck.
"Heh." Green bit his cigarette and rubbed the stubble on his chin.
"Kindred, humans—is there a difference? It's nothing more than common interests being damaged, yet they have to find a high-sounding excuse."
Smoke drifted from the gaps between his lips, blurring his expression.
He remained silent as the tobacco turned black and wrinkled under the lick of the flame, turning into smoke that flooded into his lungs.
A moment later, he pulled out his phone and found a number.
"Drake, Kindred samples. Interested?"
Chapter 58: Highway Interception
Stark Industries Building, underground parking lot,
Ding—
The elevator doors opened,
Pepper Potts stepped out, her expression grim,
Because following behind her were Stan and another man.
The man was very thin, yet his abdomen was unnaturally bloated, like a bulging mass of fatty pustules.
"Prying into others' privacy is a very bad habit, Miss Potts."
Stan gave a fake smile, grabbed Pepper's wrist, and dragged her out of the elevator.
"You just need to admit that Tony put you up to this."
"I don't understand what you're talking about," Peppershouted, forcing back the tremble in her voice.
"I was just syncing with your data. As Tony's executive secretary, I have the right to do that with any terminal in this building."
Her other hand was tucked inside her handbag, fingertips sliding across a screen, blind-dialing a number.
The movement was very fast and very discreet.
The call was connected almost as soon as it was dialed.
The screen emitted a faint glow inside the bag.
No sound came from the other side, as if no one had picked up, but the digits of the call duration were ticking up.
"Hey!"
The man noticed. He suddenly grabbed Pepper's slender wrist and pulled it from the bag.
The phone slipped from her hand, tracing an arc through the air before crashing to the ground in front of the three of them.
The screen landed face down.
"You're smarter and more courageous than I imagined." Stan looked down at the phone on the ground, then raised his eyes.
"Pepper, if you weren't labeled as Tony's person, I would be very happy to have you take over my affairs."
"Then surrender yourself," Pepper said, stiffening her neck and forcing herself to remain calm.
"Go explain it to Tony. I'm just an executor; I have no personal grudge against you."
"No." Stan took a step forward, his expression darkening.
"It is your own actions now that have incited a personal grudge in me toward you."
He bent down and picked up the phone.
Several cracks had appeared on the screen; under the heavy impact, the phone had automatically locked. He couldn't see who Pepper had dialed.
However, he could guess who she had called.
"I had a top hacker team block all information on Tony's floor long ago. It won't last forever, but it's enough time for me to complete all my plans."
He raised the phone and smashed it hard against the wall several times. The casing fell off, components scattered, and then he pulled the SIM card from the wreckage and crushed it.
"Dolby." He gave the man a look.
"Take her to the harbor."
He hadn't been idle while waiting for the armor to be repaired; he had hired a tactical squad from Trask Industries. Dolby was the leader and a Gamma-level superhuman.
This was the scientific community's classification for Mutants/superhumans:
Omega: No upper limit to power, the pinnacle of their type.
Alpha: Powerful and practical, the elite of the group.
Beta: Slightly inferior to Alpha, possessing shortcomings.
Gamma: Strong power, but at a great cost; difficult to control, with obvious physical defects or life obstacles.
Delta: Limited power, leaning towards utility or daily life.
Epsilon: Weak power, evolutionary defects, mostly non-humanoid, difficult to integrate into society.
"Understood," Dolby nodded.
"I... I was just following orders..." Pepper couldn't hold it together anymore and cried out with a sob.
Dolby ignored her, dragging her by the wrist toward a vehicle.
Stan straightened his suit and pressed the elevator button.
In the distance, several security guards approached with flashlights.
Pepper, like catching a life-saving straw, shouted desperately,
"Hey! Notify the guards, quickly notify the guards! Someone is kidnapping me!"
The guards heard the commotion, and their flashlight beams swiveled over, illuminating the two. After seeing their faces clearly, they raised their stun guns and shouted repeatedly,
"What are you doing! Let her go!"
"Don't move!"
The beams drew closer. Hope had just surfaced on Pepper's face, only to freeze.
Wait... didn't you guys think this man beside me is being too calm?!
"He's dangerous! Run! Notify the guar—"
Before she could finish, the suit over Dolby's abdomen suddenly burst open. The blood-red pustules growing on his stomach were exposed like a cluster of deformed tumors. Pus splattered everywhere, drenching Pepper.
"Ugh—" She gagged, her nose filled with the indescribable stench of rotting flesh.
A flesh-colored tentacle as thick as a baby's arm shot out from the pustules, lunging directly toward the light source.
Biting, tearing, fresh flesh and blood.
"Aaaah!!"
Screams echoed in the underground parking lot. The flashlight beams shook violently, illuminating the agonized and distorted faces of the guards.
The tentacles pierced through their bodies, biting and swallowing like a greedy giant python feeding.
The light beams trembled a few times and finally hit the ground.
Behind the light source, the guards—those few mangled humanoid silhouettes—lost all signs of life and collapsed heavily.
Beneath the corpses, blood spread out, pooling into a dark red puddle.
Gurgle... gurgle...
Lumps of matter bulged inside the tentacle, writhing from the tip and passing back into Dolby's body bit by bit.
He closed his eyes, his throat moving as if he were enjoying a delicious meal.
"Burp!"
He let out a satisfied burp. The tentacle on his abdomen slowly retracted, leaving only the tip with an opening and closing mouthpart. The dense, conical sharp teeth inside looked like a meat grinder.
Pepper was so terrified her legs went weak.
"Move." Dolby dragged her along. Pepper didn't dare say another word.
In the distance, a dozen men in suits emerged from the shadows, guns held in their hanging hands, as if they had just finished clearing some obstacles.
They nodded to Dolby, and a few of them broke away from the group to follow.
She was forced into an SUV modified into a media van. Dolby sat beside her.
One man got into the driver's seat, while the others drove another car ahead to clear the way.
Using Stan's authorization, the two vehicles smoothly exited the parking lot and merged onto the street.
A fine, misty rain was falling, pitter-pattering against the car body.
Sunlight filtered through the curtain of rain, scattering like flecks of gold. The light mixed with the rain like spilled malt beer in a glass, blurring across the surrounding cars and the road surface.
"I've probably become Stan's contingency plan," Pepperthought, staring at the blurred street scene outside the window.
"My most likely fate is to be his puppet on the board of directors."
"Oh God, Tony's backup must be strong enough. Otherwise, don't come at all. Let's minimize the casualties." She prayed silently in her heart.
Bitterness welled up.
Was she helpless?
Yes.
This was her last resort. Stan's betrayal was too lethal. No one could have imagined that the number two employee of Stark Industries would choose to seize power by force.
His methods were ruthless and his speed too fast. He had likely already dealt with some of the opposition—and even neutral—directors immediately.
For some reason, she suddenly thought of that boy from a few months ago, who acted crudely and very much like those wild Texas cowboys.
He couldn't even say a few sweet words properly.
"Who asks a lady out on a date like that?"
"If I'd known, I would have been more proactive and said yes..."
She looked at the car window covered in reflective film. Rainwater meandered down, dragging out crooked water trails.
The interior of the car was very dark; the sunlight couldn't get in. It was like the turning point of the fate she was about to face, and most likely, it was a bad one.
"Fine... at least I won't have to deal with that playboy Tony—"
Before her thought could finish,
The only lit screen in the car, the electronic radio, suddenly hissed with static, and the image turned white.
The next second, it shut down completely.
"It's electromagnetic interference! Enemy attack!"
Dolby snapped his body tense, alertly scanning the surroundings.
There was no change in the traffic flow, no unusual movement. Everything was eerily calm.
The next second, a white light suddenly appeared in the air outside the front windshield.
The roar of hovering jets tore through the rain. The pitch-black fuselage of a quinjet gradually materialized from its cloaked state, hovering in front of the convoy.
"Why would an interception of this level suddenly appear?!" Dolby's pupils shrank as he grabbed Pepper by the collar.
"Who on earth did you call?!"
"I... I don't know either!" Pepper was stunned, her eyes fixed on the fighter jet.
But the jet did not launch an attack.
Hydraulics hissed, and the hatch opened.
A tall figure with a cigarette in his mouth took a step forward.
He fell straight down.
BOOM!!
He smashed onto the roof of the lead car. The metal buckled, and the car body jolted violently.
The man slowly stood straight, his coat flapping loudly in the wind pressure generated by their speed.
His silhouette was half-draped in shadow under the piercing rain-light. Sunlight fell on his shoulders and sides, like a warm, damp cloak draped over him.
The cigarette at his lips flickered in the misty rain, and those golden dragon pupils glowed faintly in the lonely gloom.
Like an... impolite knight.
Chapter 59: Kun... Kun? Turns out it's an appendix
City blocks, roads,
The fighter jet and the motorcade moved in parallel, gradually entering a cluster of skyscrapers. The light dimmed, and shadows fell on the wet road surface.
Cold raindrops hit Green Morgan's lowered eyelids, slid over his skin, and fell into his eyes.
His eyeballs moved slightly, his gaze piercing through the rain curtain to land on the startled, delicate face inside the car ahead.
"It's actually... him? Is this a hallucination?"
Pepper didn't know whether to cry or laugh. She had just been thinking about this guy, and how could he show up so coincidentally?
"Fuck!" Beside her, Dolby's face darkened.
This stance, this aura—one look and he knew the man was terrifyingly strong.
But since he had accepted this mission, he would complete it even if it meant death!
"You've got guts."
Green Morgan looked at the man beside Pepper. Even though he looked like he had seen a plague god, his eyes still held firm, refusing to back down.
Without stopping his hands, he pulled the soul-releasing blade from ugly treasure's mouth.
The blade left its sheath, a cold light flashing.
"Die!"
In the car beneath him, a man poked his head out, aiming his gun at Green Morgan to open fire.
An arc of light swept past.
Gun severed. Head severed.
The corpse fell, left behind by the speeding car, tumbling onto the waterlogged ground.
In the next instant, blade lights intertwined.
The entire car was shredded and fell apart, the clean cuts bearing burn marks left by the high-speed slashes.
The people inside were still confused; the hands they held up toward the roof had already turned into chunks. In the next moment, darkness swallowed their consciousness.
"Oh my... Fuck!"
The driver of the trailing car's pupils shrank suddenly.
His peripheral vision caught the rearview mirror; he saw Dolby jumping out of the car without hesitation, holding Pepper as he pulled the door open.
Before he could even react,
Green Morgan swept through the rain like a black bird, piercing through layers of rain in the blink of an eye to strike.
"What?"
He didn't even see what happened, only perceiving the afterimage of the approaching man with the saber.
His vision seemed to blur for a moment as a white light brushed past with a chilling coldness.
"Eh?"
A line of blood emerged from the center of his body, and half of his torso slid down at a tilt, threads of blood clinging between the sections as his organs slid onto the driver's seat.
What split apart simultaneously was not just him, but also a small portion of the car body.
Enormous inertia carried the not-yet-disintegrated car body toward the wreckage ahead.
Bang!
A ball of fire exploded on the road, the Impact shattering all surrounding car windows. The quinjet climbed rapidly, barely avoiding the sweeping flames.
The vehicles behind swerved hard, hurriedly avoiding the burning ruins. Water vapor steamed into a white mist, curling upward.
A tentacle passed through the vehicles, its apical mouth biting onto a roadside lamppost.
Dolby, holding the screaming Pepper, used his own body as a buffer as he was dragged to the roadside by the tentacle.
He pushed Pepper away and stumbled to his feet. The suit on his back was worn ragged, revealing reddened skin underneath.
Surrounding pedestrians holding umbrellas screamed and scrambled away.
Pepper, her legs weak, abandoned her high heels and ran barefoot, only to be grabbed by the back of her collar by Dolby and dragged back to stand in front of him.
That tentacle stood tall behind Pepper, its apical vocal organ aimed at Green Morgan, emitting a hissing threat.
Dolby stared intently at the man walking slowly through the traffic. Whether it was rain or cold sweat, it kept sliding down his sideburns.
Only by surviving would he be qualified to complete the mission, but right now, it seemed a bit difficult...
"Gre... Green..."
Pepper looked at the approaching figure, a glimmer of hope appearing on her face.
Green Morgan ignored her.
He stared with interest at the tentacle, then shifted his gaze to the wary Dolby.
"Are you... Kunba-man?"
Dolby froze, his face then flushing bright red.
"Kun... this is an appendix! An appendix!!"
He roared, his voice filled with the anger of being humiliated.
"Appendix hyperplasia, huh." Green Morgan withdrew his gaze with some disappointment.
"Hey! What are you disappointed about?!" Dolby bellowed.
"This superpower of mine is very strong! Very strong!"
"Is that so?"
Before the words finished, Green Morgan's figure vanished instantly before his eyes.
A foul wind rushed at him. Dolby subconsciously drove his tentacle forward, piercing the wind—but it was only wind.
"He dodged it?!"
Just as shock arose in his heart, he suddenly felt his head lighten.
His vision flipped, and he saw his own blood-spraying corpse standing in place while Green Morgan stood behind him, blood dripping from the lowered saber.
"Mission... failed."
Screech—
The tentacle, losing its host's control, lashed about wildly. The headless corpse shook violently under the immense force like a broken puppet.
Looking at it this way, the tentacle seemed more like the actual entity—a hermit crab, while the host body was merely its'shell.'
The mouth part turned toward a heat source and suddenly sprang,
Lunging toward the back of the nearest person, Pepper's head.
Snap!
Green Morgan caught it with one hand.
The mouth part emitted a sharp hiss behind Pepper.
Terrified, she turned around. Seeing that horrific thing only inches away from her, her eyes rolled back and she fainted on the spot.
"What kind of mental fortitude is this?" Green Morgan muttered, wrapping an arm around her waist to prevent her from hitting the ground.
He looked down at the struggling tentacle in his hand.
"Speaking of which... is this thing edible?" He frowned.
"It won't actually be a 'you are what you eat' situation where I grow a second appendix, will it? I don't want an appendix."
After thinking for a moment, he nipped that bizarre thought in the bud.
"This looks like a variant of Compound V no matter how you look at it."
"I should just send it to Edgar as a souvenir."
As the quinjet's hatch lowered its ladder, several fully armed Agents filed out, efficiently beginning to clear the scene.
Green Morgan slung the unconscious Pepper over his shoulder and boarded the plane.
...
A short while later, when Pepper woke up, it was very quiet around her.
"Hah!"
Almost by reflex, she struck a flashy Sanda pose that had cost her five thousand dollars, pointing warily toward the opposite cabin.
A few Agents checking data looked up at her, blinked, and then lowered their heads to continue their work.
A snort of laughter came from beside her.
Pepper turned sharply. Green Morgan was chewing on something, watching her with interest, his eyes filled with amusement.
"You, you, you..." Her finger trembled as she pointed at Green Morgan, her mind a mess, not knowing where to start.
"I what?" Green Morgan reached out to tilt her chin up.
Her eyes involuntarily darted away to the side, and her fingers subconsciously rubbed against each other, yet she didn't push his hand away.
"Where... where is that horrible long thing?"
"You want to eat it?"
"How could I possibly..." she reflexively retorted, then realized the implication. Her face instantly flushed, and she hammered Green Morgan's arm in embarrassment.
"There are people here, how can you say that!"
"Fine, I guess we'll have to discuss that question when it's just the two of us," Green Morgan laughed.
"Can't you ever give a proper, formal date invitation?"
Pepper complained, her tone carrying a hint of expectation she hadn't even noticed herself.
Green Morgan's smile faded slightly: "Do you love Tony?"
Pepper suddenly froze.
After a few seconds of silence, she lowered her eyes: "I'm used to being with him. The social class he's in can give me more resources and a larger platform."
She didn't give a direct response—or rather, she didn't dare to.
Tony... the Stark family... when these people entered their stubborn states, they all self-righteously believed they were right.
The things they could do showed a complete disregard for the harm caused to others, especially since she had just been a victim.
And where was that person who kept saying he needed her right now?
She felt a chill in her heart, even fear.
Green Morgan looked at her lowered eyes and tore right through that unspoken barrier.
"So, it's impossible between us. You should save things like feelings for Tony."
He finished her sentence for her and reached out to pat her face.
It wasn't heavy or light. It was like a comfort, and also like a reminder.
"Between you and me, simple physical exchange is enough."
"Are you using this rescue to coerce me?" Pepper said with a faint smile, though the depths of her eyes turned cold.
"Don't think of yourself as too precious," Green Morgan shattered her fantasy. "You're not worth that price."
She was stunned.
"Your value still clings to Tony's usefulness to me. Perhaps you haven't realized it, but he does love you, which is why you're alive."
"...You really are quite the realist." Pepper stared straight at him.
"You know? When you appeared before me, I could have accepted anything you wanted to do to me. I know how to repay a favor."
"Heh, such a smart woman. I'm starting to dislike you a little."
A brief silence fell over the cabin.
"But I just happen to like men like you!"
Pepper suddenly unbuckled her seatbelt and straddled Green Morgan's lap.
Her black secretary skirt wrinkled between her spread, kneeling legs, revealing more snow-white skin.
She tilted her head up and kissed him.
It was passionate, uninhibited, and carried a hint of spiteful provocation.
But Green Morgan's response was even more domineering.
He locked his hands around her waist. A lingering stench of decay still clung to Pepper, but under Green Morgan's wild aggression and within the trembling softness that craved closeness, neither of them cared anymore.
Green Morgan pulled her hips closer, lips and tongues intertwining, breaths merging.
The Agents at the other end of the cabin kept their heads down, staring at the data as if they hadn't seen a thing.
After a long time, their lips parted.
A silver thread hung from the corner of her mouth. Moist charm floated in Pepper's eyes, and her face was flushed.
She panted, her voice carrying a hint of straightforward spiciness: "Tony can play his games, and I can play mine!"
"How can you play?"
Green Morgan raised an eyebrow at her.
"Tonight... come find me, and I'll let you know." She composed herself, got off him, and straightened her collar.
"I assume you Agents should know where my private office is?"
"Of course."
She glanced down at him, a meaningful smile curling the corners of her mouth.
"I've discovered an even more terrifying long thing, but I'm not afraid of this one."
"You should be."
"Hmph! Who knows?"
Chapter 60: Stan's Finale
In the Stark Industries sector,
Stan hummed a little tune, holding the "heart" he had just ripped from Tony Stark's chest as he walked over to the iron monger.
"Does everyone who invents a powerful weapon feel they shouldn't use it for personal gain?"
He held the arc reactor high, admiring its swirling blue light with obsession, and muttered to himself,
"A weapon is a weapon. No matter how you sugarcoat it, it's meant for reaping lives." His voice grew louder.
"Oppenheimer was like this, Tony is like this, and you, Howard—you're all the same! Stop acting like saints!"
He roared suddenly, as if venting years of pent-up resentment all at once.
Then, he gave a mocking laugh.
At this point, without this "heart" to sustain his life, Tonywas already dead.
"I won."
Greed filled his eyes as if he could already see tomorrow's board meeting—him sitting in the head seat that rightfully belonged to him, with people on both sides applauding and singing praises of his victory.
He installed the arc reactor into the iron monger's chest.
The steel shell was awakened.
Energy poured in, and the indicator lights flickered on one by one.
He took a deep breath, grabbed the edge, and prepared to hoist himself up.
Bang!
A bullet pierced through his lower back.
"Ah—!"
His foot slipped, and he tumbled off the ladder, screaming as he clutched his bleeding wound.
From the shadows of the large machinery behind him, Hillemerged in her tight Agent uniform, gun in hand.
"You..." Stan turned his head toward Hill, his eyes filled with disbelief. Why was there another variable?! This made no sense... no sense at all!
Expressionless, Hill raised her gun with one hand and fired another shot into his hand as he tried to slip it into his pocket.
Stan screamed and yanked his hand back.
Hill slowly knelt on one knee and pulled his hand out; it was gripping a sliding device.
"Infrasound at a specific frequency causes widespread neural paralysis."
She explained the device's effect while Stan looked at her as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Stark Industries has never produced such equipment... How did you know about it!" His voice was dry and raspy.
"Take a guess."
Hill pulled out the matching infrasound headset from his person, put it on, aimed the device at the struggling, retreating Stan, and flipped the switch.
"No... No! Urgh—"
The infrasound frequency hummed. His expression froze, and his face turned pale at a visible rate. Veins bulged, and his eyes trembled but could not move.
Unwillingness.
Such unwillingness!!
He was roaring inside.
At that moment, Hill leaned down, leaned close to his ear, and whispered,
"Green sends his regards."
Stan's pupils constricted violently.
"Uh... uh..." His lips trembled as he tried to speak, but no sound came out. His eyes gradually became bloodshot.
Hill stood up and looked at the activated iron monger and its empty cockpit, a smile playing in her eyes.
"He'll like this gift."
"He pilots it, and I... pilot it."
Saying this, she straightened her posture and flexed her glutes, her eyes filled with impatience, as if she were in a hurry to be liberated and switch to the real thing.
Boom—!
A section of the ceiling was suddenly blasted apart by a laser. Rocks came crashing down amidst a cloud of dust.
Hill quickly rolled away to dodge, aiming her gun at the opening.
A flashy gold-and-red suit of armor slowly descended, palms facing down with thrusters firing. Tony's suppressed, angry voice came from inside the faceplate:
"Look at this. A hot female Agent in my production line. Oh, and my dear Stan."
He landed, his heavy mechanical feet slamming onto the metal walkway, making the metal hum from the vibration.
"I believe you're already quite familiar with Coulson."
Hill proactively lowered her gun.
"Yeah, that nice guy." Tony approached.
"After spending so much time with him, I thought you guys ran a daycare."
"But I think it's time I got to know you all a bit better."
He looked down at Stan.
Stan lay in a pool of blood, unable to fight back, yet he still glared at him with eyes full of defiance.
Tony's tone was complex: "Looks like I won't be needing to pop that champagne for you after all, Stan."
"I gave you everything you needed, but I guess none of that matters now, does it."
Hill stepped forward, efficiently removed the arc reactor, and tucked it into her belt.
"This will wear off in fifteen minutes. Then you can have a nice chat with him at our branch. Friendly tip: you have a certain level of privilege with us."
"That's private property, miss," Tony said, turning his head.
"Yes, it's Green's." Hill met his gaze with a faint, knowing smile.
"You can argue with him in person."
Tony went silent for a second.
"...Take this iron monger too. Take whatever else you want while you're at it."
He decisively chose to follow his heart. Regardless, this arc reactor was an obsolete model to him, and he was certain no one could replicate his technology, even from a discarded version.
Hill gave a soft huff and pressed the Velcro shut.
Soon, backup Agents arrived and dragged Stan out.
Simultaneously, several quinjets landed in the open space in front of the factory. Green stepped out of the hatch, followed by Pepper.
Green's gaze swept over the being-dragged-away Stan, the corners of his mouth curling slightly.
"Hey, Rhys! Pour me a cappuccino~" he called out.
These words were like a bullet that completely shattered Stan's psychological defenses.
"Uh... ah..." His neck stiffened as broken growls escaped his throat. He turned his head stiffly toward Green, only to find that Green wasn't even looking at him.
He was bound, a mere prisoner.
Hill walked quickly from the edge of the factory, nodding to Green as she approached to signal that everything went smoothly.
Green nodded in acknowledgment.
Behind him, Pepper moved past him.
"Oh my god... Tony, are you okay?" She ran forward to meet Tony, who had just flown out from the opening.
"Of course, of course..." Tony removed his faceplate, pulled her into his arms, and leaned down to kiss her.
Why is there a smoky smell? A flicker of instinctive doubt crossed his mind, but then he thought about the crisis she had just endured—what was a cigarette compared to that?
No matter what she did, he would forgive her.
"I thought you were already—" He held her face, looking at her intently, his eyes a mix of joy at having found her again.
In this moment, he couldn't suppress his true feelings as he usually did.
"Stan didn't kill me right away," Pepper said softly.
"Green saved me."
"I understand, I understand." Tony hugged her tightly again, resting his chin on her head.
"It seems you called him. Thank goodness you did..."
His gaze drifted past her to Green, who was lighting a cigarette nearby. The meaning in his eyes was self-evident as he gave Green a slight nod.
Within his embrace, Pepper also turned her head toward Green. Her facade of concern quietly faded, replaced by a look whose meaning was equally self-evident, and she even gave him a playful wink.
"Heh heh heh... Trust..." Green nodded back. Amidst the rising cigarette smoke, he narrowed his long, thin eyes, masking the thick playfulness and the... thrilling rush of pleasure deep within.
But in the next second, another intense gaze forced him to turn his head.
Hill was staring straight at him.
Her gaze shifted to Pepper, then back to him.
As a woman who had been conquered by a certain someone, she knew that scumbag's wicked charm all too well.
She had no right to control him, nor any right to control other women.
But she was still annoyed! Very annoyed!
That sticky thread of resentment quickly faded under her professional Agent training.
Then, she flashed a smile at Green.
"Agent Green, follow me." Hill turned around, her tone strictly professional.
"There's an emergency mission. A sluice gate won't turn, and there's too much water built up inside. It's a serious threat to the safety of the entire dam. Help me drain it."
"Officer Hill, such a small matter..."
A nearby female Agent kindly spoke up, but Hill turned her head mechanically and gave her a death stare, scaring the woman into silence and making her quickly scramble away.
"Come." Hill looked back at Green, her face a mask of official expressionlessness, but a wicked glint flashed in the depths of her eyes.
"I'm sure you'd be... very willing to help me with this, right?"
Her eyes darted toward Pepper's direction; the threat was self-evident.
"Heh... the girl wants to turn the tables?"
Green scratched his stubble. Fine, he'd treat it as a reward for her; she really had been the one doing all the work lately.
Tony gave an approving look: 'Not bad, kid, hooking up with an Agent.'
He didn't notice the smile on Pepper's face in his arms stiffen. She glanced at Hill out of the corner of her eye, her eyes narrowing with an inscrutable meaning.
Green gave Tony a casual glance, then gave Hill a slight nod. "Alright, I'm not busy anyway."
Hill's eyes lit up, and she hurried forward to grab his arm, her steps urgent.
The two of them boarded the quinjet one after another. The hatch closed, and the jet took off.
Inside the cabin, Hill shut off all communications and set it to autopilot.
"Let's begin the mission, Agent Green."
Her hands were on the controls as she flew her favorite fighter jet.
It truly was a fighter jet, spinning through the clouds, washing away the moisture clinging to the air, nose held high as it streaked toward its destination.
Soon, the jet encountered a powerful storm current mid-air.
Raindrops poured frantically onto the flat upper fuselage.
The quinjet switched to rolling-pressure mode, the fuselage showing no fear whatsoever.
It charged straight into the surging stream of rain.
Pushing through to what lay beyond the rain.