I Could Bite Your Head Off in One Bite

"So you brought a stupid dog into my office?" Nick Fury asked the man and dog standing before him, his expression strange.

God, Nick Fury had never expected that after sending Coulson out to investigate, the man would come back leading a dog. And it was a Husky, a breed supposedly known as the king of idiots, which Coulson claimed was powerful support provided by that so-called Sorcerer.

"Sir, it may sound strange, but that is indeed the case." Coulson was rather embarrassed as well. He was a Senior Agent, yet here he was, bringing a dog that could serve as the standard-bearer for idiot dogs into his highest superior's office and claiming it was vital support for an important mission. Even he found it unbelievable when he thought about it now.

"I'm now especially convinced that Sorcerer really can tamper with people's brains. I suspect you've lost your mind." Nick Fury walked over, crouched in front of the Husky, and teased it. "Hey, stupid dog. Give me your paw."

"Nigger, if you dare talk to me like that again, believe it or not, I'll bite your head off in one bite and chew it up without stopping." To everyone's surprise, the Husky, which had been lazily sprawled on the floor, suddenly raised its neck and said exactly that.

A dog speaking human language startled Nick Fury so badly that he immediately sprang to his feet. He twisted his head back and forth, looking between Coulson and the dog, before finally asking after a long moment, "Agent Coulson, what kind of trick is this?"

"To be honest, sir, I was shocked at first too." Coulson explained with a smile. It seemed he was quite pleased to have managed to shock Nick Fury. He had completely forgotten that when he saw a dog speak at Evenson's place, he had been so frightened it had practically left him traumatized. "Also, sir, his name is Hubbs."

"What's so strange about me speaking human language?" Hubbs got up from the floor. "You humans just love making a fuss over nothing."

Making a fuss over nothing? You were practically challenging the theory of evolution, all right? Could Darwin's coffin lid still stay shut after seeing this?

"Can someone explain what exactly is going on?" Nick Fury, who had no idea what was happening, demanded loudly.

It had started yesterday, when Coulson was about to leave Evenson's place. Evenson had said he would provide some help, then directly called Hubbs over.

When Coulson saw that this so-called help was actually a Husky, his heart rate and blood pressure immediately shot through the roof. Not from excitement, of course, but from anger.

The United States had countless satellites—well, not literally countless—but the US Army certainly had countless military dogs. Why did they need help from a pet Husky?

"It was wrong of us to doubt you so casually, but I've already apologized." Coulson glanced at the Husky Evenson had called over, its front paws resting on the counter. "But if you keep messing with me like this, you're going too far."

Then, with a single sentence, Hubbs, who had been panting with his tongue out, taught Coulson how to live all over again. What he said was unimportant. What mattered was that he spoke. Good heavens, a dog was speaking human language!

"What is this?" Coulson stood there dumbfounded for a long time before finally managing to say, "Ventriloquism? Am I hallucinating? Or is this your Magic?"

A dog speaking human language was not easy for anyone to accept, and Coulson was no exception. He strongly suspected that this was some vicious prank Evenson had pulled with Magic, meant to retaliate for being doubted.

"None of those. He was the one speaking just now." Evenson said with a teasing smile. "Besides, what makes you so sure he's a dog? He just looks like a dog, has the habits of a dog, and got himself registered as a dog. That's all."

As he spoke, Evenson's smile gradually faded. He realized that with all the traits he had just listed, damn it, wasn't that simply a dog?

Still, he stubbornly argued, "Those are just appearances. What matters is what's inside. Inside."

"Fine, what's inside. So what exactly is this?" Coulson turned to Evenson. "I'm seriously beginning to suspect that you murdered over a hundred people for cruel Magic experiments. Like transplanting a human brain into a dog."

"A brain alone wouldn't be enough. At the very least, it would need human vocal cords." Evenson corrected the obvious academic error in Coulson's statement. But when he saw Coulson's increasingly horrified expression, he explained, "You've watched too many movies. And he really isn't a dog. He should count as my magical pet."

"A magical pet? What's that?" Apparently, the term magical pet was even more unfamiliar to Coulson. At least there were Planet of the Apes and Frankenstein as references for a talking dog.

"Hubbs, show him." Evenson spoke directly. Then Coulson witnessed another scene in that little shop that he would never forget for the rest of his life. A flash of red light passed, and the rather decent-looking Husky turned into an ugly monster the size of a calf.

Its entire body was covered in scarlet scales, its back bristled with black spikes, and two huge white bony horns jutted forward from its shoulders. The creature's head was even more horrifying, completely devoid of flesh. It had only a bird-beak-like bony mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth, while disgusting saliva constantly dripped from the corners of its mouth. The monster had no eyes. In their place were two antennae standing high and stretching forward, their tips blooming like carnivorous flowers and filled with sharp spikes.

"What the hell is that?" Coulson nearly drew his gun. That was already a restrained reaction. An ordinary person might have been scared to death at the sight of it.

"A hellhound. Don't misunderstand, not the kind from mythology. And he's not a dog either. By our classification, he's a demon, a magical pet I created with Magic." Evenson deliberately spoke vaguely. If he told the truth, Coulson would automatically interpret demon as alien life-form and the Twisted Nether as another planet. That would not exactly be wrong, but it would bring unnecessary trouble.

"It makes me think of biological experiments. Don't tell me that thing came from one." Coulson stared at the creature before him, which clearly could not have evolved naturally on Earth.

"Do you think I can afford to conduct biological experiments?" Evenson asked in return. "Absolutely not, I guarantee it. As for the details, they're written in that book. Want to read it?"

"No. Absolutely not." After their first encounter, Coulson had developed a severe allergy to every book here, even a phone book, much less that Magic book said to be capable of peeling off someone's skin.

"It looks like he's quite capable in a fight, but our primary mission isn't combat. It's searching." As long as they found Tony Stark, Coulson was confident that a fully prepared US Army could make those terrorists regret ever being born. They did not need combat support. What mattered most was finding out where Tony Stark was.

"Perfect. The reason he's called a hellhound is that searching is his greatest strength. As long as the target is within three kilometers of him, even if they've been burned to ashes, he can run straight to them and dig that pile of ashes out." Evenson stroked Hubbs's mournful bone spikes.

"I really don't want your analogy to become reality. And can he change back?" Coulson asked. Hubbs's true form was simply too far outside human standards of beauty.

Evenson laughed, and Hubbs changed back into that universally idiotic Husky.