Lin Xiao only got out of bed at ten. The racket upstairs had gone on until four thirty in the morning. In the end, a neighbor had called the police, and two officers had knocked for ages before things finally quieted down inside.
With his hair looking like a bird's nest, Lin Xiao sat there for a long while, replaying the scene from the early hours in his head-two men piled on top of each other. He shuddered and decided to put last night's plan into action immediately.
Move. He had to move. Even if he ended up sleeping on the street today, he was moving out.
He stuffed his few remaining belongings into a battered canvas bag, then pulled the black wallet with its peeling finish from his trouser pocket. Inside lay four cents, along with thirty-two dollars he had scavenged from the three robbers last night. He also retrieved the grimy, well-worn sock from under his blanket and pulled out a bundle of loose bills. Altogether, he had one hundred forty-seven dollars and four cents.
Lin Xiao stared at the crumpled bills for five seconds, took out the one hundred forty-seven dollars, and tucked the four cents back into his wallet. Then he picked up his battered canvas bag and went upstairs.
The door he had broken by pushing it last night still hung crookedly, and Lin Xiao didn't dare look at it for long. He neatly placed the full one hundred forty-seven dollars under the doormat. After thinking it over and deciding that wasn't secure enough, he weighed the bills down with a broken brick as well.
Then he turned and headed downstairs without lingering another moment. Leaving the dangerously dilapidated apartment building, he strode toward Manhattan into the cold March wind of New York.
Two hours later, at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Triskelion.
The receptionist in the first-floor lobby was having a bit of a breakdown today.
She had worked at this post for six years and seen all kinds of visitors. When a figure that blotted out the light appeared at the lobby entrance, her sixth sense told her-today might not go very well.
The figure walked inside.
He stood two meters ten tall, his muscles stretching his army-green hoodie so much that its original cut was unrecognizable. Every step produced a dull thud from the floor tiles. Carrying a battered canvas bag and wearing an utterly harmless smile, he looked around like a huge brown bear that had wandered into a china shop.
The lobby fell silent for two seconds.
Then, as though someone had flipped an invisible switch-everyone moved.
The three nearest staff members rose in unison and hurried off in different directions with their files, without even deciding where they were going. An intern carrying an archive box rounded a corridor corner, looked up, and saw Lin Xiao. He immediately turned a full hundred eighty degrees and headed straight back without breaking stride.
A man in a suit sitting in the waiting area instinctively reached inside his jacket. Only when he touched his badge holder did he remember that he wasn't a field agent. He could only stiffly withdraw his hand and pretend to straighten his tie.
Lin Xiao was used to this. He even thought today's reaction was pretty mild-at least nobody had screamed, drawn a gun, or hit an alarm.
He walked to the reception desk, leaned down, and tried to sound as friendly as possible. "Hello, I'm looking for Agent Coulson."
The receptionist tilted her head back. Only when her neck was angled almost perpendicular to the floor could she see Lin Xiao's face clearly. An old scar ran from his brow ridge to his cheekbone. When he smiled, the scar curved with it, forming an arc she couldn't decide whether to classify as "friendly" or "terrifying."
"D-do you have an appointment?" Her voice wavered, but she quickly steadied it.
"No," Lin Xiao answered honestly. "But I'm his new assistant."
The receptionist looked down at the personnel system on her computer screen and found the temporary file Coulson had entered just that morning. She stared at the words "Position: agent's assistant," then looked back up at the human mountain before her, her expression shifting between professionalism and shock several times.
"...One moment, please."
She dialed the internal line.
Coulson's office, eighth floor.
Coulson had been in a fairly good mood today. He had enjoyed a nice cup of coffee that morning, finished organizing three field reports, and even found time to wax his red Chevrolet sports car. Just as he was about to open the fourth report, the desk phone rang.
"Agent Coulson, there's a... um, a gentleman in the lobby who says he's your new assistant."
The coffee cup in Coulson's hand stopped in midair.
He pictured the young man from yesterday, who had punched through a wall, sent the strength tester into the neighboring office, and nearly fractured his bones with a pat on the shoulder.
"...Send him up." Coulson maintained the calm expected of a professional agent, but after hanging up, he raised his coffee and drained it as though bolstering his courage.
Ten minutes later, footsteps sounded in the corridor.
They were heavy, rhythmic thuds, like someone pounding the floor with a tamping machine. They drew closer and closer, until a knock came at Coulson's office door.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Lin Xiao stepped inside sideways.
"Good morning, boss."
Coulson's temple twitched at the form of address. He took a deep breath, used twenty years of mental conditioning as an agent to steady his expression, and gave his usual affable smile. "Mr. Lin, if I remember correctly, you aren't due to report until next Monday?"
"Yes, yes." Lin Xiao nodded repeatedly. "But there's something I wanted your help with today."
Coulson gestured for him to sit. Lin Xiao looked at the visitor's chair and remembered the dent he had left in the iron chair during yesterday's interview. After a moment's hesitation, he lowered himself gently. The chair gave a faint groan, but at least it held.
"What is it?" Coulson asked.
Lin Xiao's expression turned earnest and sincere. "Boss, what I want to say is, from the very first moment I saw you yesterday, I knew you were a good man. Your bearing, your manners, the way you drink coffee-I deeply admire all of it. Getting to work under you is a blessing I must have earned in my previous life."
Coulson's hand paused slightly around his coffee cup.
As a veteran agent with twenty years in the profession, he could naturally recognize flattery. The problem was-Lin Xiao looked far too sincere. His eyes sparkled, and his tone came straight from the heart. Paired with a physique that could frighten people to tears, it created an extremely bizarre contrast.
"Get to the point," Coulson decided to say bluntly.
"I'd like an advance on my salary." Without blushing or missing a beat, Lin Xiao held up one finger. "Just one month."
Silence filled the office for three seconds.
Coulson glanced down at the calendar, confirmed it was Saturday, and looked back at Lin Xiao. "If I remember correctly, you don't officially report until next Monday."
"Right."
"Today is Saturday."
"Right."
"In other words, you haven't started work yet."
"Right."
Coulson put down his coffee cup and folded his hands on the desk, looking so exasperated that he smiled. "You haven't worked a single day, and you want a month's salary in advance?"
Lin Xiao's shoulders slumped, and his smile turned into a miserable grimace. With his build and that expression, he looked like a brown bear that hadn't eaten for three days begging you for food-both pitiful and frightening.
"Boss, I really don't have any other options." Lin Xiao sighed and recounted everything that had happened last night.
After hearing him out, Coulson remained silent for quite a while.
He looked at the young man before him. Lin Xiao was looking at him with such heartbreaking sincerity, a battered canvas bag in his hand that probably contained everything he owned.
"I don't give salary advances here," Coulson said.
Lin Xiao's face fell even further.
Coulson took his wallet from his inner suit pocket, counted out two thousand dollars, and placed it on the desk, pushing it toward him. "But this is a personal loan from me. No interest. Pay me back when you get paid."
Lin Xiao's eyes lit up at the stack of bills. Their brightness was roughly equivalent to that of a drowning man spotting a lifeboat.
"Boss-"
Lin Xiao stood and opened his arms.
Coulson's pupils contracted sharply. He instinctively tried to dodge, but it was too late. Lin Xiao's arms had already closed around him in a solid bear hug.
How could he describe the sensation? Coulson felt as though he had been caught between two hydraulic presses starting up simultaneously on either side. His feet rose at least ten centimeters off the floor, his ribs creaked under the unbearable pressure, and every bit of air was squeezed from his lungs in an instant.
About two seconds later-which felt like two years to Coulson-Lin Xiao let go.
"Boss, you really are a good man," Lin Xiao said with heartfelt sincerity.
Coulson collapsed into his chair, gasping for air, his face alternating between blue and white. He opened his mouth, wanting to say, "You're welcome," but his vocal cords hadn't recovered yet.
Lin Xiao folded the money, tucked it into his pocket, picked up his canvas bag, and bowed respectfully. "Boss, I won't keep you from your work, then. I'll report on time Monday morning. I promise I won't disappoint you."
After Lin Xiao disappeared at the end of the corridor.
Rubbing his ribs, which were probably already bruised purple, Coulson stared at the empty coffee cup on his desk in silence for a long time.
He picked up the internal phone and dialed a number.
"Medical department? Book me in for a rib examination."
On a street somewhere in Queens, Lin Xiao was sitting in a rental agency's chair.
With two thousand dollars in starting funds, he had some confidence about finding a place. He had visited several agencies but wasn't particularly satisfied with any of the options-some were too expensive, some too run-down, and some landlords simply shut their doors to him after seeing his size.
Around two in the afternoon, he passed an agency and saw a rental notice posted outside: a single room available in Forest Hills Community, monthly rent negotiable.
Forest Hills Community. Lin Xiao vaguely remembered the name. A fairly decent middle-class neighborhood in Queens, with peaceful surroundings, good security, and rent generally between seven hundred and nine hundred. He entered the agency, and ten minutes later, the young agent was standing beside him beneath an apartment building in Forest Hills Community.
"This is the place. Third floor, one bedroom and a living room, with a private bathroom and kitchen. The original monthly rent is seven fifty." The young agent spoke rapidly. "Good natural light, excellent soundproofing, considerate neighbors-"
Halfway through, he turned to glance at Lin Xiao, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"The price is negotiable," he added quietly.
Lin Xiao made a circuit of the apartment and was very satisfied. Although it still wasn't large, it was at least far better than that pigeonhole where he could reach the door in three steps.
"How much per month?" Lin Xiao asked.
The landlord was a middle-aged white man with thinning hair, wearing a plaid shirt washed pale. From the moment Lin Xiao entered, he had stayed pressed against the wall, one hand unconsciously reaching for the phone in his trouser pocket.
"S-seven fifty." The landlord's voice sounded rather weak.
Lin Xiao frowned.
He was only frowning to work out how long two thousand dollars would last, but from the landlord's perspective-a muscular giant two meters ten tall staring at you with a faintly throbbing forehead vein and deeply furrowed brows-it looked as though he might tear someone apart the next second.
"S-six hundred!" the landlord blurted. "N-no deposit either! I'll cover the water!"
Lin Xiao froze for a moment and instinctively wanted to bargain, but then he saw the phone clenched in the landlord's hand-the screen already showed "91," with only the final "1" left to press-and decided to quit while he was ahead.
"Deal." He held out his hand.
The landlord looked at that casserole-sized hand, hesitated for roughly half a second, and shakily shook it. Afterward, his hand hung at his side, all five fingers red.
While signing the lease, Lin Xiao noticed that the landlord's writing hand kept trembling, making his signature look like an electrocardiogram. Feeling bad for him, Lin Xiao deliberately stepped back twice to give him space and even smiled at him.
The landlord shook even harder.
Fifteen minutes later, Lin Xiao tossed his battered canvas bag onto his new home's floor and stretched in front of the window. Sunlight streamed through the glass, falling warmly across his face.
"Now this is somewhere a human can live," Lin Xiao remarked, then headed outside to familiarize himself with the surroundings.
As he walked, he spotted a familiar-looking woman coming toward him, dragging a skinny, bespectacled teenager by the ear.
The woman wore a beige cardigan, her long brown hair pinned behind her head. Fine lines marked the corners of her eyes, but she still retained her charm. One hand tugged the boy's ear while the other carried a basket of groceries, and she was still scolding him about something. The teenager wore a crumpled plaid shirt and a backpack. His head tilted sideways as he stumbled along under her grip, begging for mercy nonstop.
It was May, the woman he had saved last night.
Lin Xiao leaned over the railing and watched this "child-rearing spectacle" with interest. He wasn't far away, but May clearly hadn't noticed him-she was going all out in her lecture.
"-How many times have I told you not to wander around after school? There are heaps of chores at home waiting for your help, and what do you do? Go to a classmate's house and play video games until dark-"
"Aunt May, I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! Easy, easy, easy-"
The teenager grimaced as he begged for mercy, his glasses slipping all the way down to his chin.
Lin Xiao's smile suddenly faltered.
May. A skinny boy with glasses. Forest Hills, Queens.
Those keywords collided in his mind, striking a spark.
He narrowed his eyes and studied the howling teenager being dragged by the ear for three full seconds. Plaid shirt, backpack, skinny as a bamboo pole, old-fashioned black-framed glasses, and a curl to his hair that felt inexplicably familiar.
Peter Parker.
Lin Xiao's mouth fell open.
Although he hadn't watched many Marvel movies, and all he remembered from the ones he had seen were the female characters, comparing whose boobs were bigger and whose legs were fairer, he still knew the name Peter Parker. Spider-Man, Marvel's favorite son, one of the most famous superheroes in the world.
A high school student. Both parents dead. Lived with May. Gained superpowers after being bitten by a mutated spider.
Lin Xiao's brain raced, but he soon gave up thinking. His gaze had left Peter and returned to May.
A beige cardigan. Long brown hair. Delicate, gentle features. The curves unique to a mature woman-full and pert in all the right places. The grocery basket hung from the crook of her arm, swaying gently with her movements.
If he pursued May and succeeded-he would be Peter's uncle. Peter Parker's uncle. Spider-Man's uncle.
The corners of Lin Xiao's mouth slowly rose into a curve he didn't even notice, and a scene automatically formed in his mind.
"Peter, have you finished your homework?"
"Peter, use your webs to get that flowerpot off the roof for your uncle."
"Peter, be careful when you're fighting. Don't tear your suit. It's a lot of work for your Aunt May to stitch it back up-"
"Heh heh."
May finally let go of Peter's ear. Peter rubbed it, his glasses askew, looking as though he had just survived a disaster. May smacked the back of his head.
Just then, Aunt May's gaze happened to sweep in Lin Xiao's direction.
Lin Xiao was just about to greet her.
May recognized Lin Xiao.
Her face went from rosy to deathly pale in three-tenths of a second. Last night's scene instantly flooded her mind-the three robbers sprawled every which way in the alley, the switchblade bent into a hook, and this man standing beneath the streetlight, smiling at her as he said, "I really am an ordinary person."
She grabbed Peter's arm and shot past Lin Xiao with a whoosh, vanishing from his sight in an instant. Put it this way: even Quicksilver would have offered her a cigarette.
Lin Xiao's hand froze in midair. He slowly lowered it and rubbed his nose.
"Why run so fast? It's not like I eat people..."