Nick Fury

Although its operations were generally concentrated in the American Continent, S.H.I.E.L.D. was nominally a global organization, funded by the World Security Council, which was made up of the five major powers.

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s importance and instability meant that none of the five major powers could trust it completely. They tried not only to choke off its funding but also to plant their own people within the organization.

The highest-ranking of these was Maria Hill, Nick Fury's right-hand woman and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s executive director. As a specially appointed agent, Hill reported directly to the Security Council and regularly assessed Nick Fury and the S.H.I.E.L.D. he led on the Council's behalf.

Nick Fury knew all this perfectly well. To put the Council members at ease, he deliberately pretended to know nothing and let Agent Hill do as she pleased. Meanwhile, he secretly fed her false intelligence, using her to secure more funding from the Council for his secret bases.

But who was Motherfucker Man? He was the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., the legendary King of Agents, a man who always prepared for the worst. Even after Wei Xiuming produced nearly irrefutable evidence of his identity, he'd still been investigated openly and in secret for over a year. This principled man wouldn't even eat diagonally cut toast, and he'd managed to leave Deadpool speechless. How could he possibly tolerate having a leash around his neck?

With funding from the Security Council and intelligence gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as his foundation, Nick Fury had acquired shares in countless companies and corporate groups, all hidden behind the complex rules of American finance. This allowed him to support a spy network of his own, independent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and dedicated solely to him. Stark Industries was the biggest piece of the pie.

As a shareholder in a major arms manufacturer, Nick Fury could use his position to buy equipment at the internal price, then claim the market price when filing his expenses. The money he'd pocketed would then return to his account as shareholder dividends. He got paid twice over—so Stark Industries couldn't afford to fall.

Whatever his conduct, Nick Fury was a capable man. After all, the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had been Hydra, and under his predecessor's indulgence, the organization had come so close to becoming Hydra that only its name remained unchanged. No matter who held the director's office, everyone above and below would work together to keep him in the dark, leaving him powerless. Surrounded by enemies, yet greeted by smiles everywhere he looked, Nick Fury had still noticed something was wrong with S.H.I.E.L.D. That proved he was a competent agent. And after S.H.I.E.L.D. was disbanded, he'd gathered its remnants and continued fighting to protect Earth using a system he'd built while running the organization. That proved he was a worthy director, too.

Nick Fury looked over the decorations in Wei Xiuming's room. One object in particular caught his interest: something angular, with a mechanical, technological beauty, like the head of a giant robot. After studying it for a while, he finally said:

"Where's the Knight System exclusive to S.H.I.E.L.D.? That was our agreement, and it's the reason I came here. We'll go through the proper procurement channels, balance the books, and take care of all the legal tax avoidance paperwork for you. Don't try to fob me off with one of those test models you use to fool the military. There's a whole series of upgrade plans in the computer in your workshop, including what you call the final form."

Wei Xiuming suddenly looked like a kid caught playing on his phone by a parent. He asked anxiously, "When did you manage that?!"

"I noticed when you logged on to a pirated streaming site to watch free episodes of Star Trek. If the agent monitoring you hadn't caught it, your computer would've already been hijacked by hackers, and all the data on it would've become merchandise for someone to sell."

Nick Fury continued, "Judging by how long you spend watching, you're especially interested in Star Trek: The Next Generation. In particular, you've watched Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise over and over."

"By the standards of human society, I'm still an eight-year-old child. It's only natural for me to have hobbies." Wei Xiuming sounded like he'd given up trying to hide it. "And setting aside the fact that I'm a Gene-Modded Human, I'm still covered by laws protecting minors."

Looking at Wei Xiuming's godlike physique—and knowing that he really did have the power to perform heroic feats—Nick Fury wanted to ask him, You're a kid? How old? Eight? What the hell kind of eight-year-old is this?!

Wei Xiuming's Magnetic Field Rotation made him immune to both heat and cold, but he still pretended to cough. "I suggest you change your method of infiltration next time. I admit, you're very good. You managed to disable or remove all the surveillance equipment in my room without setting off the alarms. But that actually gave you away."

"The alarm system in my room is based on the technology of my era. It keeps sending 'nothing happened' alerts to my phone. If the signal is disrupted or deliberately tampered with, my phone sounds an alarm to warn me."

Wei Xiuming added pointedly, "Sometimes, nothing happening is what's really suspicious!"

A few indistinct sounds came through Nick Fury's concealed communicator. They were prearranged signals: the adult insect corpse stored in the biological lab had been taken away. His job of distracting Wei Xiuming was done, and now it was time to leave.

From Wei Xiuming's perspective, Nick Fury left with an unpleasant expression. His words had obviously struck a nerve, and Nick Fury had hurried off right afterward.

After Nick Fury had gone, Wei Xiuming activated the room's air purification system. Only after a long while did he remove his gas mask, revealing an Asian face. The reason he wore it for so long was that he couldn't stand other people's body odor.

After entering this world, especially after arriving on Earth, he'd realized that his enhanced senses weren't all benefits. Take his sense of smell, for instance. Whether they were white or black, people's body odor made them seem like walking biological weapons. Most of them had particularly strong underarm odor, too.

If they'd just washed, it was tolerable. But the moment they broke even a little sweat, the stench produced by microbes fermenting on their bodies gave him a headache. And everyone here, men and women alike, loved wearing perfume. The two pungent smells mixed together were unbearable.

This made getting too close to people intensely painful for Wei Xiuming, especially indoors, where the air didn't circulate well. So the gas mask, with its exceptionally efficient filter, had become part of his equipment. The first thing he'd upgraded after getting support from Osborn Industries was the mask. The latest model let its wearer breathe normally for half an hour even with the outside air completely cut off.

Magnetic Field Rotation let Wei Xiuming survive without breathing. The power of his ever-turning magnetic field could draw the substances his cells needed from the environment. But out of human habit, he still wore the thing—taking it off only when he was alone.

"I've practically spelled it out for you, Nick Fury. Whether you get the message is up to you. I'm only eight years old. An eight-year-old hasn't fully developed their values yet; their morals and sense of right and wrong aren't that strong..."

"Optimus Prime, show me my action plan."

The decoration Nick Fury had been watching suddenly sprang to life. It was a personal computer deliberately designed to look like Optimus Prime's head. Its computing power surpassed the best supercomputers of the era, and it incorporated technology from the Skrull spacecraft, including its holographic display. Wei Xiuming usually used it to watch shows and movies for entertainment.

Its power light flashed a pale blue, and the intelligent interface spoke in Optimus Prime's deep, gentle voice: "Optimus Prime is pleased to be of service."

Then thin beams of light shot from the robot's eyes and joined together in midair, forming a virtual screen. A sprawling, branching list of plans appeared on it, with one major branch highlighted.