Leo Bright had always dreamed of making a fortune from the "New Oriental Beauty Salon" and traveling the world by plane.
But he never expected his first flight to be on a fighter jet.
As he sat, surrounded by agents equipped with all sorts of gear and gazing out at the high sky through the window, Leo's grand ambitions took a backseat to reality.
What a joke—falling from this height would surely leave nothing but a smear on the ground.
Even if he could summon the 'Tenfold Rashomon 1.0 Extra Edition' out of thin air, they were 10,000 meters up, and the wind was fierce. Leo's courage wasn't quite that immense.
"Follow me," Melinda said softly, noticing Leo's curiosity, and led the way.
Leo had little choice but to follow her.
Simultaneously, he wondered about this organization. It seemed similar to the FBI, but its equipment and setup were far beyond anything he'd seen from them.
To say nothing of the fighter jet—it was unlike anything Leo had ever imagined. Did you know this jet could turn invisible?
Invisible in the truest sense, not just disappearing from radar!
He'd been puzzled when the woman brought him to the stadium, but when the jet appeared suddenly, he was shocked.
If he hadn't been trying to save face, Leo would have peppered her with questions.
They weaved through corridors, eventually arriving at what looked like an office.
Melinda knocked, then entered with Leo in tow.
Leo glanced around curiously. The office was unremarkable, a bit nostalgic, with a World War II-era Captain America promotional photo on one wall.
It was... surprisingly sentimental.
A middle-aged man stood in the office, smiling warmly, exuding a kindly aura. Aside from a slightly receding hairline, there was nothing particularly noteworthy about him.
"Are you her boss?" Leo asked, his tone reminiscent of a character from a gangster film.
"No, we're colleagues."
"Hello, Mr. Bright, I'm Phil Coulson. What happened to your face?" The middle-aged man asked, puzzled yet concerned.
This was a genuinely good man.
His kind nature allowed him to work well with people from all walks of life.
An 8th-level agent, he was a model American agent and one of the most trusted subordinates of Director Nick Fury.
He had strong organizational skills and a knack for getting things done.
Leo didn't respond, merely squinting at Melinda beside him.
Phil Coulson looked momentarily embarrassed, his expression a bit awkward. "I'm truly sorry, perhaps my subordinate misunderstood you. May, could you get some ice from the medical room?"
He spoke with utmost politeness, addressing Leo with the respect reserved for a gentleman, devoid of any superiority complex.
May snorted lightly, then turned to leave.
Phil Coulson offered an awkward smile, gesturing to a chair. "Please, have a seat. I apologize for the misunderstanding, Mr. Bright."
"May might be a bit temperamental, but like you, she's of Asian descent. I'm sure any conflict will soon be resolved."
Seeing the sincerity in Coulson's manner, Leo decided not to make a fuss. He sat in the chair, stretching. "Because of your good attitude, I won't press charges for assaulting a minor. So, what do you need from me?"
Phil Coulson smiled kindly, retrieving a pad from the drawer. The electronic screen displayed a record of Leo's life starting from the orphanage.
Even recent, relatively hidden incidents were documented. Although some details were vague, Leo was shocked by the depth of this intelligence.
"Over the past few days, we've observed that your roommate, Skye, is a talented hacker, and you seem to possess abilities beyond the ordinary."
"It's presumptuous to invade your privacy, but the 'Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division' has its duties. I hope you understand."
"Allow me to introduce our organization."
"We're not part of the U.S. government but rather a division of the United Nations."
"Our mission is to prevent abnormal incidents worldwide."
"You may not realize, but there are quite a few people with special abilities like yours. Some may lose control, causing disturbances."
"We typically report and register such individuals, and in severe cases, we supervise them."
"But rest assured, you seem to have a strong sense of justice. Although killing gang members isn't ideal, it was a situation of necessity."
"So, you don't need to be nervous. We're friendly toward you," Coulson assured.
At that moment, the door swung open, and May tossed an ice pack on the table before exiting with a heavy door slam.
Phil Coulson chuckled awkwardly.
Honestly, having such a subordinate could be quite challenging at times.
Leo didn't mind, picking up the ice pack and applying it to his face.
He began to understand.
This organization was a supervisory body under the United Nations, independent of any single country, operating as behind-the-scenes heroes dealing with humanity's unsolved mysteries.
"So, you're here to register my identity?" Leo asked cautiously.
"Yes, if possible, we'd like to evaluate your abilities.
"Frankly, we know little about your skills right now.
"We only know your senses are sharper than average, and you seem more attuned to danger.
"It's a sixth sense beyond the norm," Coulson explained.
"And then, if I'm deemed too dangerous, will you eliminate me? Or imprison me?" Leo asked, half-jokingly.
"There's no need to worry. Honestly, I've always envied people with 'special' abilities.
"I see them as gifts."
"Like this pen," Coulson said, picking up a pen from the table.
"You can use it to write or to harm someone."
"But no matter what, it's a gift. It's about how you use it, like Captain America," Coulson said.
"You like Captain America?"
"Yes, I've been a fan since childhood."
Leo pondered for a moment and nodded. It wouldn't harm him anyway, and everything Coulson said seemed reasonable.
He had no reason to refuse.
"Alright, I'll undergo the evaluation. Mr. Coulson, have you considered changing your hair color?" Leo asked with a chuckle.
"Huh?" Coulson tilted his head, puzzled.