The S.H.I.E.L.D. director's office received a direct phone call from the White House.
Looking at the caller ID, Nick's expression shifted instantly. He picked up the phone promptly and said respectfully, "Sir, you called for me? What is it?"
"Did you see the news this morning?"
"What the hell is S.H.I.E.L.D. even good for?"
"I'm giving you three days to resolve this matter!"
With that, the call was abruptly disconnected. Left cursed out and bewildered, Nick had no idea what had happened.
Without lingering in a daze for long, Nick immediately had someone bring over a morning newspaper. The moment he flipped it open, he saw the news about the Federal Reserve robbery.
After carefully browsing through all the news contents, a fierce curse escaped Nick's lips.
"Fuck, those motherfuckers!"
The status of the Federal Reserve was equivalent to the four major banks of China, controlling the economic lifeline of the entire country.
Getting robbed was an earth-shattering event, and all the pressure had concentrated onto the U.S. Police Department.
Yet the U.S. Police Department didn't want to shoulder this responsibility. What could they do? They could only pass the buck.
If it were an ordinary robbery, they naturally wouldn't be able to shift the blame, but this incident involved a superhuman.
As S.H.I.E.L.D. specialized in managing superhumans, they ended up inexplicably taking the rap.
No wonder Nick looked furious.
After venting for a bit, Nick quickly calmed down. Although he was angry at the police department's buck-passing behavior,
the fact that a strange superhuman had suddenly appeared in New York again was a matter well worth paying attention to.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had only just taken a hit not long ago, so this matter had to be handled as quickly as possible. Otherwise, they would inevitably be labeled as incompetent, and heaven knew what kind of reprimand would follow when that time came.
Sorting out his thoughts, Nick quickly summoned S.H.I.E.L.D. members to take action.
First, naturally, was to investigate the identity of the robber. Although Flint had turned into a massive Sandman, he still possessed basic facial contours.
Through federal big data comparison, Flint's identity information was quickly unearthed.
If it were the U.S. Police Department, it certainly wouldn't have been so easy, but S.H.I.E.L.D.'s clearance was far higher than theirs. Therefore, what was extremely difficult for them was settled by S.H.I.E.L.D. in a single morning.
With the identity information, things became much easier. S.H.I.E.L.D. checked Flint's recent records at the first opportunity.
They discovered that he was actually a fugitive.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s criminal psychology experts deduced that escaped convicts generally went home first. Therefore, S.H.I.E.L.D. members rushed without pause toward Flint's home.
In Hell's Kitchen, amidst the slums, a line of black cars pulled to a halt. Nick led his subordinates out of the vehicles.
This sort of matter shouldn't have required him to make a personal appearance, but for certain special reasons, he still chose to make the trip himself.
Knock, knock, knock!
The sound of knocking echoed. Soon, a woman opened the door. Seeing Nick and the others standing outside, a look of nervous tension instantly appeared on her face.
"Who are you?"
Hearing this, a S.H.I.E.L.D. member standing beside Nick opened their mouth as if to speak, but Nick raised a hand to stop them.
"Wait for me outside. I'll go in by myself."
"Hello, ma'am. I'm a friend of your husband, Flint. Is he at home, please?"
Hearing this, the woman shook her head. "My husband has already been caught and is in prison now. If you're looking for him, just go straight to the prison."
With that, the woman made to close the door.
After all, as a woman facing a group of burly men, her heart was naturally filled with pressure.
"Wait." Nick reached out to stop her movement, then pulled a business card from his jacket.
"This is my number. If your husband comes back, have him call me."
"By the way, tell him that hiding is useless. Matters have to be resolved eventually. Even if he doesn't want to think of himself, he should consider you and your family."
Having said that, Nick ignored the full confusion on the woman's face and turned away, leading his people off.
Back inside the car, the vehicle started up and drove away. Nick's assistant asked with lingering confusion, "Director, why didn't we search the place? We might have found other clues."
"No need. They probably don't know anything. Let's head back and wait for news."
With that, Nick said nothing more. Although the assistant looked puzzled, he could only shut his mouth.
At first, Nick had indeed wanted to capture Flint as soon as possible, but later he changed his mind.
He noticed that although Flint had committed a robbery, he hadn't killed anyone; the guards at the scene had only been knocked unconscious.
This gave him another idea: recruit Flint.
S.H.I.E.L.D. inherently lacked superhuman combat power, and now that one had finally appeared, he naturally couldn't let them go easily.
Although this fellow had a checkered past, the mere fact that he hadn't killed anyone meant he wasn't rotten to the core.
Moreover, he had subsequently found out that Flint's daughter had leukemia. For a man like that to commit a robbery was somewhat understandable.
Therefore, he didn't mind giving Flint a chance.
To use an old saying from China, this was called offering amnesty-turning an enemy into one's own people.
Just not long after S.H.I.E.L.D.'s group departed, Flint, wrapped up in a hoodie, appeared at his front door.
He had seen everything that just happened and had almost failed to keep himself from bursting out.
Fortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s people hadn't done anything and hadn't even stepped inside, allowing him to barely keep his composure.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door was knocked on once more. The woman opened it and, seeing the figure outside, her expression froze in a daze.
"Flint!"
"You, you, how did you come back?"
"Quick, come in."
With that, the woman pulled Flint into the room.
Looking at her, Flint pulled her into his embrace with a tight hug.
"Vanessa, I'm sorry. I've made you suffer."
"I'm fine. Weren't you in prison? How did you get back?"
"Some people came looking for you just now. Are they government people? You need to run. There's no telling when they might come back."
Vanessa said with a worried expression.
Looking at her like this, Flint felt an even deeper surge of guilt. He immediately gathered his emotions and spoke.
"Don't worry about me. Listen carefully to what I'm about to say."
At this, Flint leaned close to Vanessa's ear, telling her the hiding place of his money so she could take their daughter to see a doctor.
After finishing, he asked what Nick had said to her.
Vanessa didn't hide anything, recounting everything just as it happened, and even handed the business card Nick had given her over to Flint.
"I know. You don't need to worry about this matter; leave it to me."
"Our daughter's illness is in your hands now. I can't stay here; I have to go."
With those words, Flint hugged Vanessa, hardened his heart, and turned to leave.
Pacing through the streets, Flint continuously turned the business card over in his hands.
He didn't know Nick's identity, but he knew Nick's words made sense.
Even if he could run, what would happen to his wife and daughter?
This matter had to be resolved, or else his wife and daughter would become implicated.
Thinking of this, Flint finally made up his mind and dialed Nick's number.
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