Wishes Should Be Made to Aladdin's Lamp

Phil Coulson didn't give up on defining Henry Brown, saying, "You should know that nothing in this world is a coincidence."

You're Kryptonian, and we need a Superman, a kind Clark Kent.

Henry laughed and said, "I wish I were. What If...? I were really that powerful, the whole world would be kneeling at my feet."

No, Superman wouldn't do that.

"Of course, Clark Kent certainly wouldn't. But why do you think Henry Brown wouldn't either? I'm asking you, if I were Superman, what would stop me? Have you found Kryptonite yet?"

"No—there's no such thing in reality," Phil Coulson said disappointedly.

"So there's no Kryptonite in reality, but I have to be Clark Kent from the comics, not Henry Brown in real life. You guys even change people's names? I'm not a Witness Protection Program recipient."

"That's not what I meant. It's just that we, well, we hope you can become Superman and help us."

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but my abilities are far from Superman's. Do you know how many people want to test my limits, considering I'm impervious to bullets? Rifle bullets, armor-piercing bullets, depleted uranium bullets. Maybe even an ICBM."

"Perhaps you just haven't properly developed your Kryptonian abilities, you know, like Superman when he was a kid. We can help you; S.H.I.E.L.D.. can unlock your potential and make you a better person."

"Then what?"

"Then you can fight crime, uphold justice, and bring peace to the world."

"Oh, that sounds really good. So, would you mind if I asked how much I'd get paid for doing this? Hmm, or a salary? People need to eat, have a place to sleep, and have some personal entertainment. All of these cost money."

"Our newly recruited Level 1 agents earn between 40,000 and 60,000 a year, depending on their role and region. But once they reach the supervisory level, their annual salary can exceed 100,000."

"Wow, that sounds like a lot. Do you know how much I earn a year sitting here, slacking off all day and living off the Stark family?"

"Hmm, twenty—no, five hundred thousand."

Henry gave a not-too-awkward smile and held up ten fingers. "Actually, it's ten-million."

)."

"Walter! A ten million dollar salary a year! Are you serious?!" Phil Coulson looked incredulous.

"That damn rich bastard, it would be a disservice not to take him down, right? Do you think saving the world is more important than this?"

Phil Coulson was speechless. Which was more important, a multi-million dollar annual salary or secretly saving the world? The honest man simply couldn't bring himself to say that a multi-million dollar annual salary was nothing.

With great difficulty, the honest detective managed to squeeze out a little air from his chest and say through his vocal cords, "But human life is priceless. Saving a life, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Henry laughed and said, "There are police to maintain order, firefighters to deal with fires and disasters, soldiers to fight wars, and intelligence agencies to handle conspiracies and schemes. Does that mean the earth will perish tomorrow without Superman?"

"Besides, he's a fictional character from a comic book. What If...? I could wish for something like that, should I go find Arnold Schwarzenegger, clone an army of T-800s, and the Earth would be unified under Skynet tomorrow?"

"Come on. If you guys, who are being completely outmaneuvered by the Skrulls, still act like this, and then claim to be Superman just because you read a comic book, I'll seriously start to question whether your intelligence is on par with the military."

"And you probably know better than I what kind of organization yours is. I really did become the kind of Superman you hoped for."

"Do I still want my girlfriend? Not all women are as bold as Lois Lane."

After finishing his long-winded explanation, Henry, taking a sip of water, looked at the dumbfounded person in front of him and couldn't help but feel a mischievous urge.

He turned and said seriously, "Alright, since you're so eager for this, I'll admit it. I am Jesus, and God sent me to save the world."

"If you don't believe me, I'll go and put on a crown of thorns, carry a cross, and see if other people on the street kneel down excitedly and beg for the Lord's forgiveness when they see me."

Phil Coulson remarked intuitively, "How could this possibly happen? There are so many imposters out there; they all know how to use more sophisticated tricks and stories."

"Yeah, I can't be Jesus, but I can be Superman." Henry shrugged, spread his hands, and pouted.

Phil Coulson was speechless. Unable to think of any other reason, he suddenly blurted out, "Don't you love this country?"

Henry's eyes widened. Pointing at himself, he said, "Me, an alien? Love United States? Are you serious? I pay taxes, I obey the law, and I don't break the law. Isn't that enough?"

You can't be unaware of your identity.

Interrupting Phil Coulson's already emotional speech, Henry said, "This is a nation of immigrants, and it seems the constitution doesn't explicitly state that aliens are on the exclusion list."

"I know that with your organization's capabilities, finding fault with me to obtain my identity is no problem, of course. But I must say, the world isn't just about the United States."

Henry's true feelings were that, if he were truly forced to leave the United States, it wouldn't be an impossible decision.

The reason I ended up staying in this country was during the most confusing period in Alaska. I somehow managed to get legal status, so I just went with the flow and stayed.

I have the confidence to do whatever I want now, so why would I be afraid of being deported from the United States?

An excited Phil Coulson blushed and wanted to say something, but Henry just sighed inwardly, thinking that this future director was still too young. He spoke first, "Mr. Coulson!"

The future Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. remained silent, waiting to hear what the person before him had to say.

Henry replied in a flat and indifferent tone, "I think our conversation ends here. Continuing won't lead to anything pleasant. I'm satisfied with my current job and life; you understand what I mean."

Phil Coulson, who had risen and was buttoning his suit jacket, tried one last time to persuade him, "Mr. Brown, please forgive me What If...? I have offended you in any way. But I still hope—"

"If you want to make a wish, you need to find Aladdin's Lamp, not Superman," Henry interrupted again.

The honest man, who was too exhausted to even throw a tantrum, turned around hesitantly, preparing to leave Henry's office.

"Mr. Coulson." Henry called out to him again before he left.

This gave Phil Coulson a glimmer of hope. He turned around hastily and saw Henry holding the Superman comic book and shaking it.

He said, "I think this is what you brought. Please remember to take it back."

"... Okay." The barely concealed disappointment was practically overflowing from his voice.

Phil Coulson had no idea how he left Stark Studios. Nick Fury simply pulled up in his car as he walked out the door.

"Coulson, get in the car." Through the car window, Black Nick Fury called out to the new agent who was worth recruiting.

"Sir." Phil Coulson did not resist, greeted him, and got into the passenger seat.

The atmosphere inside the car, now back on the road, was somewhat somber. Uncomfortable, Nick Fury spoke first, saying, "I don't think this conversation got the result you wanted. Right? I can say I'm not surprised at all."