Approaching Chapter 30, S.H.I.E.L.D. Finally Appears

The Bombardier Global Express is a mature business jet model; in other words, its aerodynamic layout and other speed-related specifications are difficult to modify significantly. Even with the high-end technology at Xiang Qian's disposal, there was no way to make substantial improvements to its speed.

The flight across the Pacific from west to east lasted over ten hours, and the plane slowly descended toward a private airfield on the outskirts of San Francisco.

Mystique changed her appearance and slipped away quietly, a routine she was well-versed in. Her mission was to track down Magneto; the most powerful terrorist on American soil had resurfaced after a decade of silence, which left Xiang Qian deeply uneasy.

Mystique was equally uneasy. As a friend of Magneto, she had no desire to watch him throw his life away like a moth to a flame.

After the Trask incident, although Mystique had chosen to leave the Professor and Magneto to strike out on her own, she had come to realize that violent action served no purpose other than to further deteriorate the living environment for mutants.

Among those she trusted, only the Professor and Xiang Qian possessed the ability and willingness to help mutants weather this crisis. Since Xiang Qian had offered terms that satisfied her, the foundation for their cooperation was established.

Xiang Qian had entered the United States as a director of Worthington Industries to handle a business crisis, so his itinerary was public from the start. The result was that the moment his plane landed, his phone began to ring incessantly.

"Black Charcoal." A thing that was black through and through.

Looking at the familiar codename on his phone screen, Xiang Qian wore a playful expression.

"These hyenas still have such sharp noses."

From the moment he stepped off the plane until he sat in the car and left the airport, over ten minutes had passed. Xiang Qian never answered the call, yet the ringtone continued to blare. The caller didn't hang up, nor did the call disconnect automatically like a standard line.

The relentless ringing declared a simple fact: if you didn't pick up, the sound would never stop, and naturally, no other calls could get through.

Xiang Qian held the phone for a moment, sneered, muted the ringer, and tossed it onto the seat before turning to admire the city scenery outside the window.

Thanks to the time difference, Xiang Qian had taken off before dark and landed at dusk. The horizon was already painted with brilliant sunset clouds, and the mottled lights of the streets and skyscrapers were beginning to flicker on one by one.

"Take a detour past the Consulate General," Xiang Qian suddenly ordered.

The driver asked, "Should we pull in?"

"No, just drive by. I just want to take a look." Without any acquaintances around him, Xiang Qian appeared very quiet, the expression on his face gradually turning lonely. This city held many memories for him: childhood, adolescence, sorrows, and joys...

Just as the car passed the street of the Consulate General, the bracelet on Xiang Qian's left wrist suddenly vibrated. He raised his wrist to check; it was another communication request. However, the people who could call directly into his electronic bracelet were in a completely different category from those who could only reach his phone.

Seeing the name flashing on the crystal screen, Xiang Qian smiled happily and answered the call immediately.

"James, are you in San Francisco right now?" Before Xiang Qian could speak, an exaggerated voice came from the other side. "You really break my heart. You came to San Francisco without notifying me beforehand. If Jarvis hadn't detected that your private jet had just filed an entry flight plan, I wouldn't even have known you were here."

Xiang Qian smiled as he looked at the slightly puffy-faced man with the mustache on the light screen and said with feigned hesitation, "Do you look like that because you just woke up... or perhaps you should be more heartbroken that last night's party wasn't fun enough?"

"What? How do you know..."

"Pepper told me." Xiang Qian lied with innocent eyes.

Tony on the screen showed a look of astonishment and made a clear movement of turning his head. Then, a slightly magnetic, young woman's voice came through the earpiece with a tone of obvious helplessness: "Mr. James, I'm right here!"

"Hi, Pepper, long time no see." Xiang Qian felt no embarrassment at being caught; instead, he greeted her with a smile. "Can you come in front of the camera? Let me see. You know, the face of a middle-aged man after a hangover is truly too ugly to look at..."

"What? Absolutely not!" The hungover middle-aged man shouted viciously, his face seemingly bulging out of the screen as if to press his nose against Xiang Qian's. "Pepper is very busy. She has a lot of work to handle right now..."

Underneath the man's shouting, there was a faint sound of a woman stifling a laugh.

"It's already past six in the evening; this is off-duty time. And today is Saturday!" Xiang Qian rebuked sternly. "Tony, you really are a black-hearted capitalist."

Tony Stark on the screen refused to back down and argued, "How can you call that black-hearted? Isn't the normal workday from nine in the morning to nine at night? Besides, as my executive assistant, she only needs to work six days a week. For a working person, that's a benefit."

"Oh, oh, oh... I really believe you, Tony..." Xiang Qian said in a strange tone. "Pepper, do you want me to believe your boss? You only work six days a week?"

When Xiang Qian said "only work six days a week," he deliberately held up both hands and made the common American "air quotes" gesture at Tony on the screen, drawing a "glare" from Tony Stark.

Before Tony Stark could interject, Pepper's voice, feigning confusion, came through first: "Normal workday... six days?"

Tony Stark on the screen looked toward the direction outside the screen, frantically making frantic gestures at Pepper.

Laughter from a man and a woman echoed on both sides of the screen, along with the mustache-wearing man's mumbling defenses.

This kind of banter was their way of exchanging pleasantries. When the laughter died down, Tony Stark's expression turned suddenly serious: "James, is the situation with Worthington Industries so troublesome that it requires you to come to the U.S. in person?"

"Many people anticipated this situation, didn't they?" Xiang Qian said with a relaxed smile.

"Where are you going now? Worthington headquarters, or their laboratory on Alcatraz Island?"

"Alcatraz Island," Xiang Qian replied truthfully.

"That place could turn into a battlefield at any moment." As one of America's premier billionaires and an arms dealer with close ties to the military, Tony Stark was naturally well-informed.

"More and more radical mutants are gathering around the bay, and that's just the local ones from California. Mutants from other states are still trickling in. Now, it's not just the police; some areas have already been cordoned off and placed under martial law by the National Guard."

"The California National Guard has already been deployed? It's been less than 48 hours since the press conference, and the reports I received earlier only mentioned local police patrols." Xiang Qian remained indifferent to the news. "It seems someone is indeed fanning the flames."

While on the plane, he hadn't just been "reminiscing"; he had also analyzed the wealth of intelligence Mystique had brought him.

Others couldn't catch the elusive Magneto, but Mystique was undoubtedly one of the people who understood him best. At this moment, the intelligence Xiang Qian held regarding Magneto's movements was likely more detailed than anything the official American agencies possessed.

Although Xiang Qian had advised Mystique not to get involved further to avoid danger, considering her relationship with Magneto and the Professor, she likely wouldn't listen.

While Xiang Qian remained relaxed, Tony on the other side of the screen was far more anxious than he was: "James, I suggest you do not go to Alcatraz Island. In the next few days, it will likely be the most dangerous place in the United States."

Looking at Tony's urgent expression, Xiang Qian felt a warmth in his heart. He could feel his friend's concern, but he could not accept his advice: "Please forgive me, I can't do that, Tony..."

Before Xiang Qian could finish, Tony grew angry: "Why don't you understand? Listen to me, what Worthington is facing right now is not a matter of business competition."

"I understand everything, Tony." Xiang Qian calmly interrupted Tony's persuasion. "I understand very well that this is no longer a business issue; it is a struggle between races, and also a struggle involving several major powers—that is why I must go!"

On the screen, Tony glared in frustration. After a long silence, he suddenly sighed and lowered his voice: "I'll send you a number in a moment. If you encounter an emergency, call that number. There is an armed helicopter at a nearby airbase on standby. Once they receive your call, they will arrive at Alcatraz Island within ten minutes. But remember, their orders are to extract only you."

Xiang Qian suddenly felt his eyes grow hot, so he quickly took a deep breath and lowered his voice as well: "Is that Rhodey? You dragged him into this too? He's in the U.S. Air Force; if something goes wrong, the consequences for him won't be small."

Tony warned him viciously: "Then you'd better be careful. Don't die, and don't let Rhodey end up in a court-martial."

Looking at the fierce Tony Stark on the screen, Xiang Qian smiled happily: "Don't worry, Tony; I promise, I'm just going to take a look. As soon as I confirm my investment is safe, I'll get back on shore immediately, hole up in my hotel, and go nowhere else. I shouldn't need Rhodey's helicopter."

After hanging up the call with Tony, Xiang Qian's emotions surged as more memories from his childhood and teenage years welled up in his mind. By the time he snapped back to reality, he could already see the shimmering light on the sea surface, and through the thin night mist, the magnificent silhouette of the Golden Gate Bridge loomed in the brilliant glow of the sunset.

Xiang Qian let out a long breath. As he withdrew his gaze, a casual glance revealed that the screen of the phone tossed on the seat was still stubbornly flashing with light.

Xiang Qian scoffed, but ultimately chose to answer the call: "You are truly persistent, Mr. Director."

A deep voice came through the receiver: "Mr. Xiang is worth us showing our sincerity."

"Then why don't you tell me, Mr. Nick Fury, with all that sincerity, what exactly you want to trade for from me?" Xiang Qian's voice was cold and biting; the warmth brought by his friend had completely dissipated, leaving only the bone-chilling cold reserved for an opponent.