"Not just anyone could pull off the Beirut job."
Lying back in his comfortable chair, Xia Ling, the newly appointed director of the National Strategic Defense, Attack, and Logistics Agency, couldn't help grumbling.
Xia Ling had once been a promising reincarnator in Origin Space. Apart from the difficult early years, he'd enjoyed smooth sailing.
Wherever he went, the boys on the street respectfully called him Master Xia.
He was still one of Origin Space's overworked reincarnators, but his life was downright comfortable.
One minute, he'd be off playing a coloring game in one world; the next, he'd be in another universe practicing the art of glassing things.
In short, he was the big shot in the Hall of Reincarnation. Ask around, and everyone knew who was boss!
But the peaceful days eventually came to an end.
Not long ago, for reasons Xia Ling couldn't fathom, Origin Space had decided to wage an all-out war against its old rival, Pantheon.
That left Xia Ling in a real bind. Their relationship had never been exactly friendly, and you could even say they had a blood feud.
It was simple: they visited technological worlds often, but they visited mystical worlds even more.
Every time they sent out reincarnators, either a few gods died or all the gods' followers got mowed down.
In short, there weren't many parts of Pantheon's territory that hadn't been hit by reincarnators.
The other side was the one getting beaten up, so why did Origin Space, you sanctimonious bastards, have to keep hammering them until they were dead?
And you actually wiped them out? Then you got yourself gravely wounded, too? Worst of all, you let Xia Ling see all those divine authorities.
How could that not make Xia Ling greedy? He'd followed Beirut's example and gobbled them all up in one go, without leaving a single scrap for Origin Space.
But Xia Ling wasn't as lucky as Beirut. Lord of Light couldn't do anything about him for the time being, giving him plenty of time to refine the divine cores.
Origin Space attacked him right away. Even though it had been gravely wounded, a dying camel was still bigger than a horse. Xia Ling got the stuffing knocked out of him.
Then he'd fled in every direction, panicked and desperate, until he ended up here, in some Marvel Universe with an unknown number designation.
Although he'd been gravely wounded and had less than a tenth of his strength left,
with all those divine authorities in his hands, as long as he stayed alive, he could grow frighteningly fast.
However, Xia Ling might not have been a big shot before, but he'd at least seen the wider world. How could he keep working like a pack mule for other people?
Before stealing the divine authorities, he'd been Origin Space's pack mule; after stealing them, he was supposed to be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s pack mule? What was the point of stealing them, then?
So Xia Ling had immediately planned to use the divine authority of fate to make himself America's big boss.
The problem was, he didn't have enough divine power. He had no choice but to start at the bottom and reluctantly settle for becoming director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Considering his current strength wasn't enough and the Marvel Universe was full of deep waters, he could only lower himself and play the part of Homelander.
As for beef, he'd have to stop eating it later.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Come in."
A knock sounded at the door. Xia Ling paused his thoughts and let the person outside enter.
"Director, you wanted to see me?"
Mark Biss, the manager in charge of day-to-day personnel matters, entered cautiously after getting Xia Ling's permission.
"Yeah. I looked things over today and found that you don't seem to be doing your job very well."
"Huh?"
Mark Biss froze for a moment and carefully thought over his work, but couldn't find anything he'd overlooked.
His work might not have been perfect, but he'd certainly earned his salary. Why would the new director say that?
"You don't know? Then explain this to me: why, as director, don't I have someone assigned to cook for me?"
Seeing how clueless his subordinate was, Xia Ling had no choice but to spell it out for him.
A healthy body was the foundation of hard work. Ordinary people needed a proper meal to work better.
And as the current director of S.H.I.E.L.D., it was perfectly reasonable for him to hire eight or ten chefs who could cook a variety of cuisines, wasn't it?
Mark Biss frowned and said tentatively, "Director, I'm afraid that won't work. It's against the rules."
At that, Xia Ling's mood soured.
He still had to eat beef for now, but that didn't mean Mark could just shove noodles down his throat, too, and pour soup into his mouth on top of that.
This was practically treating Homelander like some ordinary person!
"People are alive, rules are dead. Will you obey the director's orders or not?"
"I'm sorry, Director, but I can't accept orders that go against the rules!"
Mark Biss firmly rejected Xia Ling's perfectly reasonable request. As an incompetent employee, he actually intended to keep his superior from getting a single hot meal.
His stubborn refusal instantly made the atmosphere in the room turn hostile.
Just then, someone knocked at the door again.
"Come in."
With Xia Ling's permission, Old Village Chief Coulson walked in.
"Director, I've taken care of what you asked me to do. Please have a look."
As he spoke, Coulson handed over a stack of documents and placed them on Xia Ling's desk.
"That can wait. Coulson, I want to discuss something else with you."
"Director, what is it?"
A flicker of confusion crossed Old Village Chief Coulson's eyes. He hadn't wanted to accept the new director's assignment in the first place.
After all, Director Fury had done him a favor. Even if it wasn't obvious yet, the new director clearly meant him no good.
Coulson really couldn't bring himself to help him set Fury up like this.
But then he thought of his credit card.
Coulson decided that Director Fury could suffer a little, while Director Xia took the blame.
"A very serious matter. Someone wants to harm the director. What should be done?"
Coulson's eyes turned grave at that.
"That depends on how you want to handle it. If we follow the law, we can come up with all sorts of charges and keep him in prison for a hundred years.
"If you're not satisfied with that, we could also make him kill himself."
"Oh, so that's how it is. Very good, very good. Coulson, you really are one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents."
Xia Ling smiled and patted Coulson on the shoulder, looking at him as if he had a bright future ahead.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.? I thought we were called—"
"From today on, we're called S.H.I.E.L.D. I changed it."
Xia Ling cut Coulson off and directly changed the name to S.H.I.E.L.D.
Faced with his director's high-handed decision, Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s five-star tool, could only comply.
"By the way, Director, why did you ask me that? Is someone trying to harm you?"
"Ah, it's nothing. Just a passing question. No one's trying to harm me right now, but that might change later."
Xia Ling answered casually as he looked at Mark Biss with ill intent. By now, Mark was already drenched in cold sweat.
He didn't have time to worry about anything else and hurriedly said, "Director, for the sake of your health, I think the agency really needs to set up a department specifically to handle your daily meals."
"Oh, that won't do. It'd be too much trouble for you all. What have I done to deserve that kind of treatment?"
Xia Ling waved his hands repeatedly.
"No, it's absolutely necessary."
"Oh, it's too much trouble."
Watching the two of them play off each other, Coulson could think of only one thing.
The sky was so blue today.
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