Wudang Mountain Office at Shaolin Temple Father King Lama

Wudang Mountain Office at Shaolin Temple Father King Lama

The ones who entered were none other than Agents Phil Coulson and Melinda May. The two of them were quite shocked when they arrived at this so-called Richter's Curiosities. There was no other reason: it had protective charms from every religion that could be found on Earth. The three major religions went without saying. Hinduism, Taoism, Judaism, and the Voodoo Cult were all fully represented as well. Of course, those were the ones they recognized; there were plenty more they did not. For example, there was that totem pole taller than a person, with an Indian style to it, but its label read: May the Great Mother Protect You. There were also those brightly colored voodoo masks, which looked like they belonged to primitive rainforest tribes. Their labels read: Voodoo Endures Forever, Black Arrows Follow Men. Then there was that bone necklace labeled Strength and Honor, Blood and Thunder, For the Horde. It looked like an ornament worn by ancient barbarian warriors, usually made from the bones of their enemies. Like the one before them, Melinda could tell at a glance from her years of experience that it was definitely... not made of human bone, but cow bone passed off as the real thing.

Because of their work, Coulson and Melinda knew a fair amount about cultures and religious beliefs from around the world. So when they suddenly saw so many things they did not recognize, they could not help taking a closer look. And that was when they got the shock of their lives. This damn place was full of fakes. For instance, Coulson was currently holding a finely crafted, top-grade icy jadeite glass Buddha with a smile on his face. 0-0!!

Just as Coulson and Melinda were marveling at the counterfeit craftsmanship of this jade Buddha—damn it, could you believe jadeite could fade?—an enthusiastic voice came from behind them. "Judging by the look of it, sir, you and this Buddha are fated. This Buddha is no ordinary item."

The two turned around and saw a handsome young man approaching. From what he said, he was clearly about to pitch the Buddha to them. Coulson smiled and showed him the green color in his palm, which had flaked off the Buddha. "A Buddha that fades really is no ordinary item."

This person was naturally Evenson, who was desperately trying to make his first sale. He looked at the color in Coulson's palm without the slightest hint of embarrassment or shame. Instead, he said solemnly, "Gods transcend all things. They would never care what material their idols were made of. As long as someone close to the divine blesses it, it can protect people and keep them safe."

Coulson and Melinda found it hilarious. You're remarkably talented at spouting nonsense with such a straight face. You've got the spirit of one of us. "Then this Buddha has been blessed by someone close to the divine as well?"

Evenson answered with utmost seriousness and certainty, "Of course. It was blessed by a master from the distant East, China. They call it consecration there."

Coulson shot a glance at Melinda, who was of Chinese descent, and said meaningfully, "China, huh?" Then he asked sincerely, "Which master?"

"Yes, which master?" Melinda chimed in at just the right moment. Though she had lived in America, she had not neglected the culture of her homeland. She really wanted to see what other nonsense this seller of counterfeit goods could come up with.

"It was personally consecrated by Father King Lama of the Wudang Mountain Office at Shaolin Temple. So, sir, this Buddha truly is extraordinary." Evenson spoke a string of utterly nonsensical words in a profound and unfathomable tone. Still, this routine worked on ordinary Americans. After all, they did not really know what relationship Wudang Mountain and Shaolin Temple had. They only felt that such a long string of titles sounded incredibly impressive, so they believed it in a daze. Of course, it would have been more convincing if the Buddha had not faded.

Sure enough, Coulson and Melinda were nearly stunned by that string of seemingly formidable titles. But Coulson was thinking, He can make a fading Buddha sound this impressive. There's really no one else like him. Meanwhile, Melinda was thinking, This guy's brain must have been fried by his own powers. Otherwise, he's just an idiot. Or maybe he was already an idiot, and then his brain got fried.

"Aren't you afraid those gods will start fighting?" Melinda asked.

Even with Evenson's thick skin, he could not help awkwardly turning his back, because Melinda had spoken in standard Mandarin Chinese. It was like trying to impress someone by preaching the secrets of immortality, only to discover that person was Sun Wukong. What a slap in the face.

But as Evenson turned around, he happened to see his Husky lying on the floor and watching him. Its left foreleg scratched the ground twice, and its tail wagged three times. Evenson immediately got the message: the two people behind him each carried three guns. He instantly felt that it looked like he would not be making any sales today. Also, while it was cool for a dog to send coded signals through subtle movements, the information had actually been sent through the soul link by this hellhound.

"Among all the gods in the heavens, who knows which one is real? Just pick one to believe in. Maybe it'll work?" Since it seemed the other party did not intend to buy anything, Evenson's earlier enthusiasm vanished, replaced by a trace of arrogance.

Sensing the change in his tone, Coulson and Melinda both became wary. Whether he was lashing out in anger over a failed sale or had discovered something, agents always had to prepare for the worst. Yet neither showed it on the surface. "Perhaps I should report you for deceiving consumers."

"Maybe. But I've never seen consumers carrying three guns each while shopping." Evenson walked straight behind his counter and sat down in his chair. Meanwhile, his demon pets disguised as humans slowly closed in. Demon Guard Tyler, who had been watching television, sensed that there might be someone he could chop up. He immediately sprang from his recliner, clenched his fists until they crackled, and approached with a vicious grin.

"Enough. Spread out." Just as the demons were preparing to swarm forward and take down the two humans, their master suddenly stopped them. "Sarah, close the door. We're closed. I want to have a good talk with these two customers."

"Smart choice. It'll keep them from getting hurt," Melinda said after Tyler and the others had left. She was very confident in her fighting skills. Of the people just now, she thought only Tyler would have been somewhat troublesome. The woman and the fat man could have been dealt with easily. What? There were two more? Please, Coulson was not dead weight. Though he was not as good at hand-to-hand combat as she was, he could still handle a Husky. As for that dwarf, she was afraid she might accidentally step on him and kill him.

"Maybe." Evenson neither confirmed nor denied it on the surface. Would you believe that even the Husky lying on the ground right now could bite the two of you to death? Damn it, that thing is relying on the fact that it's a dog to ignore my orders and keep lying there in the sun.

"But I'm more curious about your identities. Ordinary people don't go shopping with three guns apiece. And the Deadlock Gang wouldn't dress as neatly as you do." Evenson looked at Coulson in his suit and tie, then at the valiant-looking Melinda in her blazer and slacks. The Deadlock Gang had no one like them. That bunch felt too embarrassed to call themselves gangsters unless they had a few holes in their bodies and several rings hanging from them. So Evenson believed the two were likely from some government agency. The CIA or FBI were both possibilities. After all, he had burned quite a few people to ashes. Though he had cleaned up thoroughly, people had still gone missing. The Deadlock Gang would not call the police, but the families of lone robbers and thieves might. So Evenson was neither surprised nor afraid that those agencies might have noticed him, because there was no evidence in the end. No bodies, no murder weapon, no witnesses. How could they accuse him?

That was why Evenson did not care about the FBI or CIA. What truly concerned him was...

"I'm Agent Phil Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. This is Agent Melinda May." Coulson displayed his credentials.