Sunshine Debt and the S.H.I.E.L.D. Package

California's sunshine was generous to the point of tyranny, baking the terrace of the Malibu villa until it glowed with warmth. Xiao Han lounged in a beach chair like a sunstone that had finally absorbed its fill of energy, every crack in his bones radiating lazy contentment.

The "Tony-brand" chocolate-dipped ice cream cone Happy had brought him had long since vanished, leaving only a trace of melted sweetness on his fingertips. He could not even be bothered to lick it off, letting the sunlight evaporate the last of the evidence.

Happy stood in the shade at the terrace entrance like a dutiful reef, fulfilling his role as gatekeeper without blocking his boss's precious sunlight.

The communicator on his wrist lit up from time to time, its screen filled with encrypted messages from Tony—various ice cream emojis and frantic exclamation marks, all centered around one theme: inventory emergency! Happy watched his nose and minded his own business, pretending he saw nothing.

Protecting his boss's property was his duty. As for his boss's ice cream being reasonably requisitioned by another big shot? That was a diplomatic dispute between bosses, beyond a bodyguard's scope of mediation.

Sunlight flowed across his skin, warmth seeped into him, and power quietly settled and grew. Xiao Han was so comfortable he was nearly asleep. This pure, uninterrupted charging state was his real business.

New York's chaos? The Tesseract? Loki-brand concrete filler? Those were just spam he had dealt with while being interrupted during his sunbathing. Once the recycle bin had been emptied, they should have been completely forgotten.

Unfortunately, some people simply did not understand that silence was a virtue.

A low engine roar came from the sky, approaching from afar. It was not the distinctive shriek of Tony's armor, but the heavier, more official sound of tilt-rotors.

A Quinjet bearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. eagle insignia hovered over the sea beyond the villa like an ominous vulture, keeping a cautious distance. Its hatch opened, and a rope ladder dropped down.

Happy immediately tensed, his muscles bulging as his hand instinctively moved to his waist. He stared warily at the aircraft like a fierce dog guarding its territory.

Xiao Han did not even raise an eyelid. His super-hearing had detected the engines starting dozens of nautical miles away, and he had even distinguished several familiar heartbeats inside the cabin, tinged with nervousness and bureaucratic airs. The pests were here, and they had brought a package.

Several figures nimbly slid down the rope ladder and landed on the beach outside the villa. Agent Phil Coulson led them, dressed in his ever-immaculate suit and wearing a professionally mild smile, though a barely perceptible tension lay hidden deep in his eyes.

Behind him came two fully armed field agents with solemn expressions, along with a technician in a white lab coat carrying a silver briefcase.

Coulson adjusted his tie and walked steadily toward the terrace. Happy's massive body shifted like a moving barricade, blocking his path with a sharp gaze.

"Agent Coulson." Happy's voice was low, carrying an unmistakable warning. "The boss is resting." He deliberately emphasized the word "boss," making the reference crystal clear.

The smile on Coulson's face did not change, as though he had not noticed Happy's wall-like frame. His gaze passed over him and landed precisely on the lazy figure in the beach chair. "Happy, it's part of the job. Try to understand."

His voice was calm, but it carried an official tone that allowed no refusal. "Director Fury wishes to have the necessary discussion with Mr. Xiao regarding the... follow-up handling of the New York incident, as well as the secure custody of several key items."

He turned slightly, indicating the case carried by the technician behind him. "We have brought the highest-grade containment solution to ensure absolute safety."

Happy did not yield an inch, his muscles tightening further. Discussion? He thought it looked more like a fox paying respects to a hen. Since when had these people ever been so "respectful" of someone else's rest time?

Just then, a lazy voice came from the beach chair. It was not loud, yet it clearly drowned out the noise of the waves and engines.

"Happy." Xiao Han still had his eyes closed, his voice sounding sun-warmed and faintly impatient. "Let the dogs in. Get rid of them early, so they stop yapping."

Happy frowned, but he still stepped aside as instructed. His gaze raked across Coulson and the others like a blade. Coulson's professional smile seemed to become slightly more genuine, though the tension in his eyes did not lessen in the slightest.

He led his people onto the terrace, the fine sand beneath their feet making a faint scraping sound.

"Mr. Xiao." Coulson stopped several steps from the beach chair, maintaining just the right distance and a respectful manner. "Thank you for your... decisive actions in New York. You saved countless lives."

Xiao Han said nothing. Not even his eyelashes trembled, as though Coulson were delivering a speech to empty air.

Coulson paused. He had already prepared himself for this silent disregard and continued, "Regarding Loki's disposition, as well as the Tesseract and the Mind Scepter, two alien objects of extremely high risk, S.H.I.E.L.D. hopes..."

"Trash." Xiao Han finally interrupted him, his eyes still shut, as though he were commenting on the weather. "Loki is trash. I stuffed him in a building.

Those two shiny stones are trash too. One is stuck inside a broken machine, and the other is lying in Tony's ruins." He raised a hand and waved it casually, as if swatting away flies. "How trash gets handled is the garbage station's business. Don't bring it to me."

The technician's mouth twitched as he looked at the precision containment equipment in his hands, feeling personally insulted. Coulson's smile also stiffened for a moment, though he struggled to maintain his professionalism. "Mr. Xiao, their energy levels and potential danger..."

"Danger?" Xiao Han scoffed and finally lifted his eyelids slightly, revealing calm black eyes beneath as he glanced at Coulson.

There was no threat in that look, yet Coulson instantly felt an invisible pressure, as though the tail of some prehistoric beast had swept past him. "Dangerous to whom? You people?" His tone was as flat as if he were stating an objective fact. "To me? They are not even worth as much as the clouds drifting past while I sunbathe."

He closed his eyes again. "I told you where the stuff is. Go pick it up yourselves. Keep talking nonsense, and I'll clean you up with the trash."

That final sentence was light and airy, yet the two field agents behind Coulson instantly tensed, their fingers moving to their weapon safeties. The atmosphere abruptly froze.

Coulson took a deep breath and forcibly suppressed the complicated emotions surging in his heart—wariness, helplessness, and a trace of resentment at being so thoroughly disregarded. He knew the other man was not threatening him. He was merely stating an exceedingly simple possibility. After quickly weighing the pros and cons, he decisively gave up on trying to persuade him further.

"...Understood, Mr. Xiao." Coulson's voice remained steady, though there was a barely noticeable dryness to it. "Thank you for your... cooperation.

"We will handle the aftermath properly." He gave a slight bow, his movements crisp and efficient. "Sorry for the interruption." With that, he turned without hesitation, signaled to the others behind him, and quickly left the terrace, as though staying another second would pose an enormous risk.

The Quinjet quickly reeled in its rope ladder, its engines roaring as it climbed and swiftly vanished into the blue sky, as though fleeing some terrifying place.

The terrace returned to peace, leaving only the sound of waves and sunlight flowing.

Happy watched the S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft disappear and snorted before returning to his post, his tense muscles relaxing. He had known it. Talking to the boss about "dangerous item storage"? That was like showing off an axe before Guan Yu.

As though nothing had happened, Xiao Han comfortably turned over in the beach chair, letting the sunlight cover his back more evenly. That insignificant bit of noise had not even disrupted the rhythm of his sunbathing.

"Happy." His eyes remained closed, and his voice returned to its previous laziness.

"Boss?" Happy immediately responded.

"Tell Tony," Xiao Han said slowly, "that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s 'trash removal fee,' along with the 'noise pollution fee' from just now, goes on his tab. And ice cream... add another case of vanilla almond." He smacked his lips, seeming to savor the memory. "Today's interest was collected fairly pleasantly."

Happy grinned, flashing his white teeth. "You got it! I'll pass every word along to Boss Tony!" He was already imagining Tony's twisted expression when he saw this "astronomical bill." Protecting his boss's property was Happy's bounden duty.

The sunshine was perfect, and the creditor was very satisfied. Tony's little ice cream vault was destined to suffer an unprecedented catastrophe.