Late at night, a heavy van with its hazard lights flashing silently reversed into the S.H.I.E.L.D. Building. Two rows of fully armed agents stood around the van, their guns pointed downwards, the atmosphere tense as a string about to snap. Leading the group was Walker, now a Level 4 agent and Lin Xiao's most loyal S.H.I.E.L.D..
He was holding a long string of supply release slips in his hand, watching as the porters pushed heavy black metal boxes out of the underground vault.
These boxes contained S.H.I.E.L.D..'s tactical operation reserves for this year and next, which have now all become Vought's "labor dispatch advance payment."
A porter pushing a cart didn't notice the pebbles under his feet. The cart lurched, and a black metal box crashed to the ground, scattering bright green Franklin everywhere, causing a commotion. Walker loudly ordered the agents beside him to stay alert, which silenced them. He then slowly walked over and, amidst the porter's grateful expression, carefully put the Franklin back into the box.
The lights in the top-floor office stayed on all night. Fury sat behind his large desk, staring at the half-person-high contract on it, his jaw clenched tightly. He held his pen, lingering on the signature line on the last page for a full ten minutes, the final stroke almost tearing the paper.
The next morning, an official email popped up on the S.H.I.E.L.D.: Director Fury is taking three days off due to a spike in blood pressure and sudden cardiovascular discomfort, as advised by his doctor. Deputy Director Hill will temporarily take over the administration.
9:30 a. m., Lower Manhattan, top floor of the Vought Tower.
The 500-square-meter conference room was emptied, and on the huge circular solid wood conference table that could accommodate thirty people, neatly stacked US dollar bills were piled up. Bundles of Franklin were piled up into a dozen small mounds, and even the air was filled with the distinctive smell of ink.
Lin Xiao sat imposingly in the main seat, his long legs propped up on the empty chair next to him, holding a thermos in his hand, leisurely skimming the foam off the goji berry water.
"Instructor, it's all been distributed." Kara stood to the side holding a list, her dark circles under her eyes so heavy it looked like she was wearing smoky makeup. Last night, Lin Xiao had assigned her to stay up all night overseeing the finance department, just to distribute the cash by headcount.
"Sit down, what are you all standing there for?"
Lin Xiao waved his hand and pointed to the group of people around the round table, each with a different expression.
Banner pushed up his glasses, glanced at the pile of cash in front of him—at least five million dollars—and then looked up at Lin Xiao. His mind was racing, processing calculations from quantum mechanics to macroeconomics, trying to find a plausible mathematical model to explain the legitimacy of the funds. In the end, he gave up, silently picked up his water glass, and took a sip.
Colonel Rhodes sat extremely stiffly, his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly, staring at the money in front of him. He lowered his voice, as if squeezing it out between clenched teeth. " Lin Xiao, I'm asking you one last time in the name of the military. If you dare say that you led men to break into the Federal Reserve Bank of New York last night, I'll definitely have a bullet in my gun right now."
" Rhodey, that's a narrow-minded approach." Lin Xiao slurped up some hot water and pointed to the money on the table. "Every penny of this money is S.H.I.E.L.D..'s hard-earned cash, a legitimate budget personally approved by the director. This is called resource restructuring, understand?"
Tony sat beside her, wearing sunglasses and with his legs crossed. He snorted and didn't even glance at the "mountain" in front of him. He turned his head and gestured with his chin toward Pepper Potts.
Pepper Potts sighed, resignedly pulled a pair of white gloves from her Hermès bag, and put them on. She walked to the table, her movements extremely efficient and professional, her fingers flying across the page as she began to count Tony's share in front of everyone.
On the other side, Iceman Bobby and Beast Hank are like two poor relatives who accidentally stumbled into a high-level game.
Bobby initially maintained his Mutants aloofness, thinking to himself, "This nouveau riche style is utterly vulgar." But when Kara dumped two stacks of cash, each half a meter high, directly in front of him, his eyes widened, and his Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably.
A scene flashed through his mind: a pub in the suburbs of Texas, with a pool table and ice-cold beer, where he sat behind the bar, smiling and waving. Then, the scene shifted to the Mutants Academy's library, which had been leaking and had moldy bookshelves for years, now completely renovated and brightly lit. His portrait was engraved in the center of the library, with the inscription "Renovated by the outstanding student Bobby..." Bobby swallowed hard, rubbed his hands on his knees, leaned forward slightly, and looked awkward and shy, like a child who had just arrived in the city.
"Um... Boss," Bobby cleared his throat, raised his hand, and said in a slightly trembling voice, "We just signed the contract and haven't even done a single proper field mission yet. Isn't this payment a bit too early?"
Lin Xiao pulled his sunglasses down a bit, revealing a mocking look in his eyes. "Stop giving me that nonsense. Just say it's not enough. Kara, get him another case."
"No, no, no!" Bobby jumped up from his chair in fright, waving his hands frantically. "Enough! Enough! Boss, I feel guilty about the money, but I really need it. The academy library... never mind, I'll shut up."
Hank pushed up his glasses, looked at the money in front of him, then at Bobby, and gave a helpless, bitter smile.
Steve, the captain of S.H.I.E.L.D..'s Avengers, was also invited to the meeting, and he sat opposite Lin Xiao without moving from beginning to end.
He stared at the pile of green banknotes in front of him, picked up the glass, and took a sip of water. He had lived for almost a century, fought in the tough battles of World War II, but he had never been so speechless in his life.
He couldn't understand how saving the world, a matter of human survival, had turned into a "mercenary profit-sharing meeting" in Lin Xiao's hands. But what terrified him even more was that this seemingly mercenary and unethical method had caught everyone's attention. Even Banner, a kind-hearted man, became much more subdued after seeing the money.
Steve turned to look at Natasha beside him. Natasha was leaning back in her chair, painting her nails, looking as relaxed as if she were on vacation.
"Has he always been like this?" Steve asked in a low voice.
Natasha blew on her still-wet nail polish, glanced at him, and smiled slightly, "Captain, there's a lot you don't know. This is just how he plays the game; you'd better try to get used to it."
At this moment, Lin Xiao clapped his hands, stood up, and slammed the thermos on the table.
"I've taken the money, and I feel relieved. Now let's get down to business."
He composed himself and his gaze swept over every face around the round table.
"You all probably know about Agent Hawkeye's defection, right? I can tell you this is an invasion plot targeting the world. In this operation, you'll be facing a massive number of aliens. I'm not forcing you, but I have a few things to keep in mind." Lin Xiao nodded in satisfaction as he watched the previously noisy crowd fall silent. Then he held up one finger. "First rule: survival first. Fight if you can win, run if you can't. Nothing is more important than surviving."
Steve raised an eyebrow.
"Secondly," Lin Xiao held up his second finger, "Don't play the hero game with me. Our tactics are guerrilla warfare passed down from the immortals of the Dragon Country. If you don't understand, go look it up. Superhero three-on-three system: retreat when the enemy advances, harass when the enemy camps, and attack when the enemy is exhausted. If we can gang up, we will never fight one-on-one; if we can use firepower to cover the enemy, we will never engage in close combat."
Banner's eyes turned somewhat strange; he seemed to be mentally assessing the feasibility of this tactic.
"The third point!" Lin Xiao's voice rose a few decibels, "As long as you survive, no matter how much effort you put in, the company will reward you with a seaside villa! All expenses incurred during the operation will be reimbursed by the company, and the highest level of insurance will be provided! Captain America, Natasha, you will be treated as guests, without any exceptions!"
"Pre-battle training begins tomorrow," Lin Xiao said, pointing to Steve. "It will be led by our captain, Mr. Steve Rogers."
Steve choked on the mouthful of water he was about to swallow. He put down his cup and stared blankly at Lin Xiao. Teaching superheroes guerrilla warfare? What kind of nonsense is this? I don't understand, but I still forced myself to stand up and nod to everyone.
"Alright." Lin Xiao waved his hand and plopped back into his chair. "This meeting has lasted twenty minutes. I'm tired. Pack up the rest of the money yourself. Meeting adjourned."
After he finished speaking, he picked up his thermos and strolled out of the conference room. Kara, carrying an empty folder, jogged after him.
A deathly silence fell over the meeting room. Everyone stared at the money in front of them, then at each other.
"I feel a little sorry for Fury." Rhodey finally broke the silence, silently stuffing his wad of cash into his military backpack.
"You'll get used to it." Banner sighed and started looking for the bag he had put the money in.
Meanwhile, in Paris.
On the terrace of a tower on the Seine, the night wind makes the curtains flutter.
Loki wore a perfectly tailored dark green velvet suit and held a freshly poured glass of Romanée-Conti in his hand. His long fingers gently swirled the glass, and the dark red liquid reflected a mesmerizing glow in the moonlight.
Hawkeye stood behind him like a lifeless statue, handing him a tablet computer. On the screen was Lin Xiao's seemingly absurd yet utterly unsolvable resume.
"He used a contract half the height of a person to force the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. to be hospitalized for cardiovascular problems; he used a table full of cash to turn Mutants and Avengers into his mercenaries..." Loki read aloud as he looked at the documents.
He had initially thought that Midgard was a boring and fragile place, and that those so-called superheroes were nothing more than a bunch of brutes. But now, this file had changed his mind.
A man who doesn't play by the rules, who can use capital and contracts to bind gods and monsters to the same chariot. This is no longer a barbarian; this is a Chitauri.
Loki's lips curled into an intrigued smile, and his green eyes gleamed with a dangerous yet captivating light.
" Lin Xiao..." He touched his lips lightly, his voice elegant and languid, "This game in the Midgard is finally getting interesting."