Nick Fury, who had just smashed the phone, had his chest heaving violently.
His single eye was bloodshot.
Five hundred million U.S. dollars.
Even if he took out part of his black budget for the year, it would still require him to write tens of thousands of words in a report.
What made Fury feel even more humiliated was the other party's tone, as if he had him completely cornered.
Save the World?
That's your responsibility, not mine.
When had he, the dignified Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., ever felt so wronged?
He should have just arrested that insurance salesman and recruited him into S.H.I.E.L.D. back then!
Motherf***er!
Fury ultimately slumped back into his chair.
He had no choice.
Compared to the risk of S.H.I.E.L.D. being overthrown by HYDRA and millions of people worldwide being 'pre-emptively eliminated,' five hundred million U.S. dollars seemed so insignificant.
Finally, Fury picked up another phone and issued a series of commands... North Brother Island, Command Center.
William was leisurely sipping coffee, admiring the nascent outline of the Base outside the window.
"Beep."
A notification sound rang on his phone.
"Your account ending in XXXX received a transfer at XX time: $500,000,000.00"
"Hmm, Director Fury's efficiency is as reliable as ever."
William put down his coffee cup with satisfaction.
It was worth his effort to call Fury at his most agitated moment.
Under pressure, people's decisions tend to be more efficient.
"contract."
"Sir, I'm here."
"Send the 'Insight Project' gift package we meticulously prepared for Director Fury, in its entirety."
A mischievous smile played on William's lips.
"Remember to attach an e-card at the end of the email, wishing him... pleasant work and win-win cooperation."
"Command executed, sir. Data package sent, no reply from the recipient."
"Of course, there won't be a reply."
William stood up.
Fury is probably busy gathering his confidants now, preparing for the bloodiest internal purge in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s history.
He wouldn't have time to thank him.
The big business was done; now it was time to enjoy life.
He walked out of the Command Center, where Jessica Jones was leaning against the corridor wall, idly playing on her phone.
She looked up and glanced at William.
"Business done? Looks like your company can finally pay you a salary."
"Salary?" William walked up to her, a contented smile of accomplishment on his face, "No, my dear, tonight there's an 'employee benefit' better than a salary."
His aggressive gaze made Jessica pout.
"Oh really? I'd like to see what kind of benefit is worth five hundred million U.S. dollars."
William smiled without a word, turning to walk towards his room.
"First, I need to take a shower and wash off the stench of money."
He was whistling internally.
After hard work, one must, of course, treat oneself well.
This is the perfect life.
Jessica watched his somewhat showy back, finally couldn't help but curse under her breath, yet still followed him... The next morning.
Warm sunlight streamed into the room.
William rarely enjoyed a morning without alarms or battles.
He even had the mood to make a simple breakfast for himself and Jessica.
Just as he placed the last piece of fried bacon onto the plate, his phone on the table suddenly vibrated.
It was contract's highest priority alert.
William frowned.
He picked up his phone, and a live news broadcast automatically popped up on the screen.
In the picture, Tony Stark stood in front of a flurry of flashbulbs.
His face was haggard.
But in his eyes burned a flame mixed with anger.
Reporters desperately thrust microphones towards him.
"Mr. Stark! What are your thoughts on the recent series of Terrorists attacks initiated by 'Mandarin'?"
"Thoughts?"
Tony's sneer came through the phone's speaker.
"I have no thoughts. I only know that good people have died, and my friend... my bodyguard, is still in the hospital!"
His voice suddenly rose.
"So, listen up! You Joker hiding in the Shadow! There are no superheroes here, no President, just me, Tony Stark, challenging you!"
"I'm not a coward who needs to hide in armor! You are!"
"I'm not afraid of you! I just can't understand why someone like you exists!"
At this point, Tony took a deep breath, and facing the camera, he said word for word:
"I'm giving you my home address."
"10880, Point Dume, Malibu, 90265."
"I'll be waiting for you at home."
"Bang!"
William directly turned off the video.
The earlier contentment on his face was completely gone.
This idiot!
Had his genius brain short-circuited?!
Announcing his home address to a mysterious Terrorists leader in front of the entire World?
This was completely asking for death!
"What's wrong? Did your rich friend finally go crazy?"
Jessica walked over with a coffee cup, having clearly heard the live broadcast.
William didn't answer.
He immediately found Tony's number and dialed it.
The phone rang for a long time before it was answered, with the harsh sound of metal clanging and robotic arms operating in the background.
"William? What's up? I'm very busy right now."
Tony's voice sounded somewhat excited, with a hint of undetectable fatigue.
"Tony! Are you insane?!"
William practically yelled.
"Announcing your home address on TV? What do you want to do? Invite Terrorists to your house for a party?!"
"Oh, you mean that."
Tony on the other end of the phone let out a dismissive chuckle.
"Relax, my friend. They're just a bunch of outdated Terrorists who like to play with shoddy bombs. I'm just giving them an opportunity for self-destruction."
"They're not ordinary people! Tony, your mental state is very off right now! You need rest, you need a psychiatrist, not to provoke a madman on TV that even S.H.I.E.L.D. can't find!"
William tried to make his tone sound more like a concerned friend.
"I'm perfectly fine!"
Tony's voice suddenly rose, carrying an irritated tone, as if a raw nerve had been touched.
"I'm better than ever! After the Battle of New York, I upgraded all my armors! Mark 42, a brand new automatic deployment system, remote control! If they dare to come, I'll let them taste Stark Industries' latest fireworks!"
"Tony..."
"Listen, William, I'm really busy here, doing the final adjustments for my 'new toy'."
Tony interrupted him, his tone returning to that nonchalant demeanor.
"Come to Malibu for a drink if you have time, provided you can make it before I blow those bastards and their lair sky-high."
"Beep... beep... beep..."
The call was abruptly disconnected.
William stood holding his phone.
The joy of receiving five hundred million U.S. dollars was completely washed away.
-------------------------------
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