Shut Up

So Coulson asked Donnie whether he was willing to provide clues and accept S.H.I.E.L.D.'s support. This could be seen as an opportunity to deepen the relationship between the two sides by having Donnie accept their aid, leaving plenty of time and opportunities for cooperation in the future.

This was an excellent opportunity.

Donnie smiled. Although he knew Coulson was prescribing the right medicine, he had to admit that it made him feel quite comfortable. Smiling, Donnie said into the phone, "Coulson, I have to say, you really know how to talk. Every word you say hits right where it matters to me."

Coulson smiled as well. There had been no outright rejection, which was a good sign. He said gently, "At the very least, we can provide what you need, can't we? We have no intention of harming you. From the very beginning, we wanted to bring you over to our side, and we've never hidden that."

Donnie neither agreed nor disagreed. A major organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. was indeed cunning, capable of putting things so perfectly. What did "never hidden it" even mean? Anyone with a brain understood that a global organization would naturally want to recruit him. If they could not recruit him, they would leave him alone; if he posed a threat, they would eliminate him.

And then there was Donnie's history and background. It was far too clean. He had committed no crimes, had no questionable ties with any organizations. His entire life was the template of an ordinary citizen—diligent, clean, and transparent. S.H.I.E.L.D. could uncover everything about Donnie's past. It would be strange if they were not interested.

On top of that, Donnie had displayed remarkable calm when he woke up in the hospital. Their mixture of kindness and intimidation had only stirred up hostility. So S.H.I.E.L.D. simply stopped hiding its desire to recruit him. There was no need to hide it anyway; both sides understood perfectly well.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had originally worried whether Donnie, who had lost both parents and had no attachments left, might embark on a path of madness. Would he instantly turn into a supervillain, destroy everything on a massive scale, and cause enormous casualties? But Donnie's actions had put them at ease. At least in the short term, there was no need to worry, and their desire to recruit him became even more urgent.

An extraordinary combatant with no attachments was far too dangerous. They needed to pull Donnie into the system. Bonds, missions—anything was fine, as long as he had something driving him forward instead of acting without restraint.

Finally, Coulson told him that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s director would visit him soon and hoped they could have an open and honest talk.

Donnie shrugged and did not refuse. He told Coulson, "Right now, I only hope to get some silver weapons. It would be best if you could send over another batch of alloys too. I need them."

Coulson agreed immediately. He was not afraid that Donnie would make demands; he was afraid that Donnie would want nothing. The fact that Donnie needed something from them was a good sign.

After hanging up, Donnie first cast a cold glance at the Old Bartender, who was sleeping like a dead pig. There was a huge lump on the Old Bartender's head, where Donnie had struck him with Vibranium.

He started the vehicle and headed straight for the scrapyard. He wanted to find that manager, force information out of him, and then kill him. But he did not get his wish. The manager was already dead, clutching a thick wad of U.S. dollars tightly to his chest, as though he had been conducting some sort of transaction.

He had been shot dead.

Donnie sighed. Although he had already suspected as much, seeing the scene still disappointed him. One lead had been cut off.

He drove into the piles of wrecked cars, picking through them and barely managing to pull out a few decent vehicles. He controlled Optimus Prime to selectively dismantle and absorb them. It was an extremely tedious process. Optimus Prime itself was limited by the AllSpark and could not improve its body without restraint. It was also limited by its materials; during absorption, it had to discard inferior metals and components while taking in higher-grade materials. Constantly absorbing and discarding was troublesome.

That was why Donnie had deliberately tied up the Old Bartender and brought him back. He needed the Old Bartender to build him a powerful motorcycle directly. Vehicles with a higher starting point would have greater potential for modification before reaching their limits. Unlike Optimus Prime—powerful though it was, its upgrade process was too complicated and consumed too much Spark Energy, nearly making Donnie's head explode with pain.

The new Optimus Prime rose from the ground, nearly four meters tall. Its gleaming metallic luster and intricate body structure, complex enough to make one's head spin, left Donnie extremely satisfied. His ride had undergone a leap in combat power, and Donnie now had far more confidence in dealing with emergencies.

Donnie selected another two cars and infused them with Spark Energy, intending to turn them into Transformers to temporarily serve as cannon fodder.

He was much more cautious this time. People had to grow. After being tricked once, he would not allow himself to be tricked a second time. This world was far too dangerous; one careless step and he would fall into a pit.

The Old Bartender was still lying on the ground, pretending to be dead.

"Hey, get up if you don't want to suffer!" Donnie threatened him.

The Old Bartender's eyelids trembled, but he shamelessly continued playing dead.

Smack!

Donnie was straightforward—so straightforward that it was frightening. He directly pulled out the Vibranium and smacked it against the back of the Old Bartender's head, adding another lump to his skull.

"Eh? No reaction? Was I overthinking it? Was he actually unconscious?" Donnie rubbed his chin suspiciously as he analyzed the situation. He had used Vibranium quite a lot lately. This high-grade brick had become extraordinarily useful in his hands, with terrifying power.

Tears streamed down the Old Bartender's face. He had been pretending to sleep, but this time he had actually been knocked unconscious. This idiot had not even tested him first—he had just swung the brick immediately. It was utterly insane.

Donnie was still uneasy. Having been schemed against too often had made him paranoid. He always felt that someone nearby was trying to trick him, and he simply could not settle down. So he acted decisively, smacking him several more times until the Old Bartender's face was swollen like a pig's head. Only then did he put away the Vibranium in satisfaction.

If Vibranium had a soul, it would probably have started cursing. Never had any foolish human treated it so disgracefully, actually using it as a brick to hit people. What an outrage.

Donnie controlled Optimus Prime and had it transform into a truck, then tossed the Old Bartender into the cargo bed.

Even in truck form, the new Optimus Prime looked far more imposing. Not only was its finish bright and gleaming, but its body was also much larger, making it look more reliable. If an experienced driver had been there, he would definitely have praised it: "What a fine vehicle."

Donnie leisurely drove Optimus Prime back toward New York, with two wrecked cars following behind. The journey went smoothly, and no one actually attacked him. Donnie had been waiting for whoever was pulling the strings behind the scenes to set him up. After all, after working so long, they might very well try to screw him over at the end. If they dared come again, Donnie swore he would beat the shit out of them.

But the expected fierce battle never came. It seemed the person behind the scenes understood that this was Donnie's territory and simply watched him return safely to the city. Once he entered the city, though, several passersby noticed that the two abandoned cars behind him, which did not even have steering wheels, were moving on their own. They screamed in fright and hurriedly called the police.

Donnie could not be bothered with them. He headed straight for his little house, the place he cherished most. He also needed to prepare for that old fox Nick Fury. He planned to first see what Fury had to say.