The Nick Fury Who Wanted to Vomit Blood

"Invisible Man? What kind of nickname is that? How did I become the 'Invisible Man'?" Saitama muttered, hearing the moniker the outside world had given him from Skye.

This book is first published on t w k a n . c o m

"It's because your speed is too fast, so fast that no one can see you, not even your silhouette. They mistakenly think you're an 'Invisible Man,' that you're directly cloaked in invisibility, which is why they can't see you. That's how they gave you that nickname," Skye explained.

At the same time, Skye looked at Saitama, unable to help but sigh inwardly.

When she first met Saitama, even though he saved her once, at that time, she thought he was just... well, an ordinary person who looked a bit funny and knew some martial arts. But later, the strength Saitama displayed became increasingly astonishing, making Skye feel it was unbelievable.

She had heard of superheroes like Daredevil and thought they were amazing. But even though she found them amazing, they were still human, still within the limits of human capability. Saitama, however, was completely different, to the point of being unbelievable.

Human eyes couldn't even track Saitama's movements. How fast was Saitama? Faster than sound? Faster than light? These were things no human could achieve.

Moreover, with such immense power, not to mention his speed, if he wanted to make money, it would be incredibly easy. Neither human eyes nor even cameras could capture him. He could easily "borrow" money from people and never have to return it. But, when she first met him, Saitama was starving.

It was funny, wasn't it? So strong, capable of obtaining anything he wanted with his power, yet Saitama acted like a gentleman, never even considering any illicit or illegal means. That was truly rare and precious.

"So, because my speed is too fast, they can't see me, and that's why I'm called the 'Invisible Man'? I get it," Saitama said, tapping his chin and nodding in realization.

"So, what are you going to do next? Slow down a little so others can see you," Skye asked, looking at Saitama curiously.

"Why should I slow down so they can see me?" Saitama shook his head.

"But, but as a superhero, you don't even let people see you, and they've even given you a nickname like 'Invisible Man.' Don't you want to change that?"

"Why would I change it?"

"Well, you could gain a lot of admiration, receive much praise, enjoy flowers and applause, and even if you wanted money, people would gladly hand it to you."

"No thanks. I became a hero out of interest, not to get these things," Saitama said, shaking his head.

"During your heroic endeavors, wouldn't it be nice to also enjoy admiration and praise, to receive flowers and applause? It wouldn't affect your heroism at all."

Honestly, Skye couldn't quite understand Saitama's mindset.

How should she put it? Skye had grown up in America, naturally influenced by its culture. Americans liked to be flamboyant, to show off. They never wanted to hide themselves. If they got something precious, at least fifty percent of Americans would be unable to resist showing it off, enjoying the envious and jealous gazes of others. Unlike in the East, where if someone obtained a treasure, perhaps less than five percent would show it off.

This was a difference in customs, which was why Americans preferred Iron Man.

Therefore, Skye found it difficult to understand Saitama's way of thinking. Of course, Saitama himself was a unique individual.

"It would be too troublesome. I've seen some celebrities, it's a hassle. They're constantly watched, can't do anything freely, it's super annoying," Saitama pouted, then muttered softly, "But I'm a little envious, though."

"But this is enough. Even though I didn't come up with the title 'Invisible Man,' it at least truly represents me. So many people know about the 'Invisible Man,' which is already amazing, incredible. At least before I came here, no one knew about me. Not even a similar title existed."

Saitama was completely optimistic, or perhaps he simply didn't want to overthink things. It was as if his IQ had been decreasing along with his hair. Once he became bald, his intellect, having no use, seemed to have been put aside.

Seeing Saitama's satisfied expression, Skye couldn't help but shake her head. She still couldn't understand Saitama's thought process.

"Forget it, think whatever you want. Saitama, do you want to test your physical data?" Skye blinked, looking at Saitama, her heart filled with curiosity. Although she was a hacker who had leveled up, not a scientist specializing in human research, she couldn't help but be curious about a monster like Saitama.

"Test? No, thanks."

"Why?"

"It's too troublesome."

"..."

In the end, Skye unleashed her inner persistent little imp and managed to pester Saitama into undergoing a physical test.

However, as Skye looked at the stopwatch, she had intended to test his speed. But Saitama finished the 100-meter dash before she could even press the button, which was rather awkward.

Then there was the weightlifting. Saitama lifted dumbbells weighing several hundred pounds with one hand as if it were child's play. Saitama's limit? Unknown.

Then there were other tests, one by one, item by item. None of the test results yielded an accurate number. The only thing Skye knew was that Saitama's physical condition in all aspects had maxed out the charts, truly maxed out.

"Saitama, tell me, you're not human at all, are you? You're an alien, or a god from mythology, right?" Skye stared blankly at Saitama.

"No way. I'm just a human, a human!"

"Human? Heh, heh heh..."

In a certain Trident building, a stern-faced woman in high heels walked with crisp, decisive clicks of her heels to a door and lightly knocked. A sign reading "Director" hung on the door.

"Enter."

"Director Fury. Here's the information you asked me to investigate." The woman placed a stack of documents in front of a one-eyed, bald, black man.

"Hill, any findings?" Nick Fury asked as he flipped through the documents.

"I investigated extensively for information on the 'Invisible Man.' His true identity? Unknown. Race? Unknown. Characteristics? Unknown. Number of individuals? Unknown," Hill replied calmly with her investigation results.

"Unknown? Hill, you're not going to tell me you have absolutely no other information besides a string of unknowns, are you?" Nick Fury looked up, his single eye fixing coldly on Hill.

"I apologize, Director Fury. It's because no one has ever seen him, and he appears in multiple locations almost simultaneously. His range of activity is roughly the entire New York, and sometimes he even goes outside of New York. Furthermore, neither the victims nor the perpetrators have any memory of the 'Invisible Man.' Even the cameras all over New York show no trace."

"So, what's your conclusion?" Nick Fury frowned, finding it troublesome, no, extremely troublesome.

"The 'Invisible Man' might be in a constant state of invisibility, and perhaps there isn't just one 'Invisible Man,' or perhaps—"

"Perhaps what?"

"Although there's only one 'Invisible Man,' his speed is incredibly fast, even exceeding the speed of light. Besides that, there's no other explanation for multiple 'Invisible Man' crime-stopping actions happening almost simultaneously."

Listening to Hill's words, Nick Fury couldn't help but feel a headache coming on. As someone who had seen things, he knew that this world was far from as safe as it appeared on the surface. There were all sorts of more dangerous humans, creatures, even aliens, but they were well-hidden. No one knew when disaster might strike.

A few years ago, a giant green figure suddenly appeared. Since then, Nick Fury had wanted to formulate a plan—Boy Band, no, the Avengers Initiative. Well, this plan was actually a draft that had been conceived long, long ago. But after the appearance of the green giant, he officially decided to implement it.

The appearance of the 'Invisible Man' immediately caught Nick Fury's attention. However, after all the effort and work, he got nothing. This made Nick Fury feel like spitting blood.

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