Zhang stared blankly for a while, then broke into a foolish grin.
Mr. Oaks was a partner in Tony Stark's environmental charity fund?
Since he had not mentioned it, it was probably Mr. Stark's own decision. But with this, Mr. Oaks's reputation would surely soar.
And as his only employee at the moment, would she not benefit as well?
Sure enough, this was a golden thigh. She had to hold on tight!
"Ding-ding-ding~"
The shop door opened, and another customer had arrived. Zhang quickly put on a bright smile and went to greet them.
Fifteen minutes earlier.
A red vintage convertible made an emergency swerve, narrowly avoiding a taxi that was honking like mad.
It had not gone far before it had to make another sharp turn to avoid an oncoming motorcycle going the wrong way. Finally, at a rundown intersection, it yielded to a group of skateboard-riding hip-hop youths before reaching a stretch of relatively normal road.
"When we get back, I'm sending the traffic violation footage of those little brats to the police! If they don't arrest them, I'll do it myself!"
The white man driving gave his furious Asian female colleague a wry glance.
"Melinda, you've only been off field duty for a few months. You're a veteran among veterans. You're not used to this little bit of chaos?"
"My specialty is flying planes!"
The Asian woman in the passenger seat rolled her eyes angrily.
"Coulson, don't you think Brooklyn's traffic is utterly outrageous?
If those bastards at the police department think the Department of Public Safety and Traffic Management has no reason to exist, then they should stop wasting taxpayers' hard-earned money!"
"I thought a few months in a desk job would make you more refined."
The white man, Coulson, opened his mouth, but ultimately did not say, "The Cavalry is still the Cavalry."
Otherwise, he probably would not be driving today, and would likely be out on medical leave for the next month.
"All right, this stretch is relatively safe. We'll be there in ten minutes or so."
Coulson could only change the subject. His outstanding female colleague clearly had not recovered from the failure of their last mission. Letting her vent was probably for the best.
"Coulson, now that you don't need to concentrate on driving, there are some things we need to discuss."
Melinda glanced around at the street, which was practically a different world from the one before. There were barely any cars on this road.
She folded her arms and tilted her head toward Coulson, who seemed to have maintained his trademark smile the entire time.
"I had already transferred to desk duty. The director approved it personally. Why did I have to come along on this field mission?"
Seeing Coulson's lips move, Melinda immediately added,
"We need to talk openly and honestly, not give me that nonsense about 'this is an order.' I've been hearing that line for over twenty years."
"...All right, Melinda."
Phil Coulson, a Level 6 Agent of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. There was no need to go into his background.
Melinda May, though her clearance level was one rank above Coulson's, had transferred from fieldwork to desk duty after a heartbreaking mission a few months ago.
So, strictly speaking, she should not have been on this field mission.
But because the two were close friends, Melinda had "interrogated" Coulson after throwing a fit—because strictly speaking, this was also a breach of discipline.
"Strictly speaking, this is a breach of discipline."
Coulson thought so too, but seeing Melinda already clenching her fists, he hurriedly continued.
"We're not far from the target now, so I'll give you a brief mission rundown—
It wasn't that I refused to tell you earlier. It's because this mission is Level 7."
"Level 7?!"
Melinda was truly surprised. Though both Level 6 and Level 7 were classified, Level 7 missions marked a dividing line.
Missions below Level 7 were ordinary classified operations. Level 7 could already be considered "top secret" in the usual sense.
For example, missions involving national security, counterterrorism, top-secret intelligence, and other highly sensitive classified matters, as well as missions involving higher-level scientific researchers and medical personnel, fell under this classification.
"No wonder they sent both of us."
Even within the talent-packed Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, Level 7 Agents were rare. Approval for Level 7 clearance alone took at least three to six months, and more commonly six to eighteen months.
A veteran Level 6 Agent like Coulson had the opportunity to handle Level 7 missions, and she, having only recently transferred to desk duty, seemed to be the most suitable partner.
"All right, Coulson. It seems this operation is extremely important. Can you tell me the details now?"
Melinda's expression turned serious.
As an exceptional agent personally trained since the age of seven by Agent Peggy Carter, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s founders—though they did not call it that yet—she understood very well how important a mission requiring both of them had to be.
In other words, this was an extremely dangerous mission.
Foreign spies? Terrorist organizations? Kidnapping politicians? Could they have called her in because of her combat experience against superpowered people?
"Well, actually, we're going to visit a young biologist."
Coulson raised an eyebrow, opened a concealed storage compartment, and took out a file folder.
"These are the mission materials."
"Documents for a Level 7 Mission are actually allowed to be copied?"
A faint smile curled Melinda's lips. She was intensely curious. This Level 7 Mission really was extraordinary.
"Mm..."
Opening the folder, Melinda skimmed through the contents and nodded slightly.
"A young genius scientist, and Chinese American too. Hm, he's quite handsome."
"So this Level 7 Mission involves a high-level researcher? What did this guy do? Don't tell me he's another Hulk?"
Though seeing that the target was a scientist had initially eased her mind, Melinda then remembered that scientists these days were not harmless academics.
If they really caused a major incident, it could be terrifying—
Bruce Banner was such an easygoing man, with such a good temper, yet the Hulk incident had nearly driven the military mad.
She had heard General Ross paid a considerable price to ask S.H.I.E.L.D. to help locate Hulk, but there had been no leads so far.
"No. Every evaluation of Dr. Oaks Lin has been positive."
Coulson chuckled, admiration apparent in his voice.
"However, his research ability is no less than Dr. Bruce Banner's. Take a look at what he invented."
"Recovery Serum?"
Melinda had already turned to a page marked with photographs. It focused on this very item.
"Rapidly heals wounds, removes scars..."
Melinda's eyes widened.
"That effect is way too exaggerated! Could he be boasting? A lot of scientists like to attract attention this way to trick people into investing!"
"No, someone has already tested it."
"Who?"
"Our colleague, Natasha Romanoff."
Before you continue