Shocking! Why Was the Beautiful Woman So Haggard?

"How did you... find me?"

Coulson took two steps, considering how to approach him next time, when he suddenly heard Mike's voice.

When Coulson turned around, Mike was reclining in his chair with his eyes closed, as if what had just happened had merely been Coulson's imagination.

Coulson knew perfectly well that it was not an illusion.

His mind raced.

First, that question was an indirect admission of responsibility for the Foot Gang case. But it was too vague to serve as courtroom evidence.

Second, Mike had emphasized and paused on the word "you," which meant...

Had his identity as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent been exposed?

Considering Mike's mother's identity, it was indeed possible—and not unlikely.

Coulson could either be evasive or sidestep the issue. But if he bluffed his way through this, he might permanently close a door to future contact with Mike.

Coulson quickly made his decision and said three words: "Chloe."

"Oh."

Mike understood instantly.

Mike had only taken Chloe away. By investigating Chloe's identity, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s computers could map out layer after layer of connections among everyone associated with her.

At first, Old Earl and Mike had merely been two unremarkable names. But once Mike's parents' identities and backgrounds were exposed, Mike became a priority investigation target. Cross-referencing other incidents naturally made him the prime suspect.

"And how did you know my identity?" Coulson asked as well, equally vaguely.

Mike said disdainfully, "You people have that smell."

He casually made up an excuse. He could hardly say he had transmigrated here, could he?

Coulson interpreted that as Mike having learned about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s methods from his mother.

The two exchanged smiles, completely talking past each other.

Mike took out another business card and tossed it over. "Finding lost pets, walking dogs, tutoring, doing homework for others, catching girlfriends or wives cheating..."

As he spoke, he glanced at Coulson's receding hairline and continued, "...Forget that one. You don't look like the type who could get a girlfriend. Anyway, I take pretty much any commission, big or small."

Coulson: .

What was wrong with his hairline making a strategic retreat?!

Was he eating Mike's rice or something?!

An image appeared in Coulson's mind: giant portraits of Mike and Tony pasted onto human-shaped targets, while Coulson held a Maxim machine gun and unleashed a hail of bullets, cackling like a villain.

In reality,

Coulson smiled gently. "All right. We'll definitely work together if the opportunity arises. Goodbye."

Back in the car, Coulson reported to Nick.

After listening, the bald director said, "I'll leave the follow-up to you. I trust you to handle things."

"Yes!" Coulson instinctively straightened up, feeling a little excited inside.

Mike stretched and began dealing with the loose ends concerning Chloe.

The United States had extremely strict adoption rules, with detailed and standardized procedures. Old Earl's qualifications genuinely did not meet the requirements.

However, Mike's private lawyer, James, subtly indicated that there were always more solutions than difficulties. In a capitalist society, if money could not solve something, it only meant there was not enough money.

After receiving a fifty-thousand-US-dollar "consultation fee," James patted his chest and guaranteed that he would get it done within a week.

A week passed.

James did not disappoint Mike. He spent a day taking Old Earl and Chloe through several departments. After they signed a pile of documents, the adoption was officially finalized, completely legal and proper.

Old Earl had taken Chloe to complete her school enrollment today.

Mike was watching over the supermarket alone.

A middle-aged beautiful woman pushed open the door and entered. Her clothes were expensive but disheveled, and her face looked utterly worn out.

Clearly, she had run into trouble—and serious trouble at that.

The middle-aged woman looked around the supermarket, then finally fixed her gaze on Mike. After hesitating for a moment, she stepped forward and asked, "Are you Mr. Mike Tang?"

"Yes, hello."

Mike asked, "What can I do for you?"

The middle-aged woman said, "Hello. Fat Jerry said you could solve problems that other people can't."

Business was here!

The Banks family lived on the Upper East Side. The husband, Henry, was a vice president at a publicly listed company; the wife, Kettleman, ran a charitable foundation; and their only daughter, Lisa, had been admitted to the University of Chicago this year.

The Banks family had been almost the model of a perfect family—until Lisa disappeared.

After Lisa was accepted into a world-renowned university, the Banks couple naturally loosened their restrictions on her. Two weeks ago, Lisa failed to come home one night, and there had been no news of her since, as though she had vanished without a trace.

The Banks couple called the police, hired private detectives, posted reward notices, and even sought help from gang members, yet they found nothing.

Kettleman was nearly suffering a mental breakdown. Hiring Mike was really an act of desperation, since he looked far too young and did not have even the slightest air of an expert.

"Mrs. Banks, I'm very sorry about Lisa's disappearance." Mike comforted Kettleman. "Since Fat Jerry referred you here, I assume he told you something about me."

"Yes."

Kettleman nodded. After hesitating briefly, she said, "He said your fees are very high, but your success rate for commissions so far is one hundred percent."

"Uh..."

The system held the power to set prices. Mike had no say in it, and the system did not allow him to raise them.

It was truly speechless.

And how was it expensive?

Kettleman said anxiously, "As long as you can find Lisa, money is no object."

"It's not about the money." Mike waved a hand. "Please wait a moment."

More precisely, it was not just about the money.

Mike secretly called Fat Jerry.

The call connected.

Fat Jerry's smug voice came through. "Dear Mike, no need to thank me. Fat Jerry is loyal. Whenever there's business, I think of you first."

Mike said, "Cut the crap."

Fat Jerry said, "All right. As an intelligence dealer, there's no problem taking a missing-person commission, right?"

Mike remained expressionless. "Perfectly reasonable."

Fat Jerry said, "Then... the last place Lisa was seen was a bar called Blood Thorn."

"Blood Thorn? Never heard of it."

"It's normal that you haven't. Blood Thorn is an underground bar, a Vampire den. I didn't dare investigate any further."

Mike nodded in realization. "I understand."

Fat Jerry suddenly became coy. "Brother, fighting Vampires requires garlic extract and silver weapons. I sell all of those here."

Mike said, "So this so-called business referral was really just to sell me stuff... Get lost!"

After hanging up, Mike fell into thought.

Vampires originated from the Darkhold.

The original Vampire was the Atlantean wizard Varnae. Later, Dracula inherited most of Varnae's power and became the progenitor Vampire.

Vampires had existed for thousands of years and had long infiltrated every aspect of human society. They were practically everywhere.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had launched several operations to eliminate Vampires, but they either died before they began or had their plans leaked, ending in failure.

There were two main reasons for those failures:

First, Vampires were difficult to kill, and impossible to eradicate completely.

Second, there were too many human traitors. A whole group of high-ranking officials were waiting to become Vampires and gain immortality when they grew old or developed terminal illnesses.

In the end, both sides signed a peace agreement: Vampires would keep a low profile, while S.H.I.E.L.D. would turn a blind eye.

China was the only country where Vampire communities had never taken root. There were two main reasons for that as well:

First, Vampires had been rooted in the Europe-America Continent for thousands of years, while their invasion of the Asia-Pacific region only began in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

Second, S.W.O.R.D. was capable.