"Ahem... hello."
When they saw that Aron wasn't showing any hostility, the Avengers finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The battle that had just ended was far tougher than the previous invasion of New York.
If Aron hadn't intervened, one of them would likely be dead.
Speaking of help…
Avengers remembered another important ally, the magician.
Daniel.
He was lying farther from them, injured, exhausted.
"Are you alright, Mr. Wizard?"
"Call me Daniel."
He replied in a hoarse voice, lying on the ground.
On his left shoulder blade was a deep wound, nearly reaching his heart.
Fortunately, the mages of Kamar-Taj were used to fighting supernatural beings, so their bodies and spirits had supernatural endurance.
Daniel had temporarily closed the wound and stabilized himself with magic.
But too much blood had already been lost.
Though his skin was dark, his face was ghostly pale.
"So… you're the kid, huh?"
Daniel looked at Aron with mild disdain, but also a hint of fascination.
"Hm?"
Aron looked confused, not understanding why Daniel was looking at him like that.
Without further explanation, Daniel slowly stood up, opened a small golden portal, and just before disappearing, muttered something under his breath, probably a curse.
...
"Did I just argue with him?"
Aron blinked a few times, confused.
The battle was over.
Tony's "gang of empty talkers," as Aron would call them, had finally arrived to deal with the aftermath.
The good news was that people were already used to disasters.
The bad news? The damage was far greater than that in the Battle of New York.
Several blocks were leveled to the ground.
Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan, even part of the West Side, all destroyed.
Economic losses? Immeasurable.
But Aron didn't care.
He just wanted to go home, lie down, and continue his life in peace and quiet.
However, before that…
"Mordo… have you perhaps thought about joining us?"
Tony Stark stepped forward.
"Look, we're not like S.H.I.E.L.D. We don't interfere in private life, your freedom and identity are safe. Just think about it."
His tone was sincere, and his gaze serious.
After everything he'd seen, Tony knew one thing:
People like this must not be ignored.
He wasn't just a playboy and genius anymore.
He was a leader.
And he knew, without Aron, they might not survive the next war.
"First of all, my name is not Mordo."
"My name is Aron."
"Second, I don't plan to join any organization."
Aron had absolutely no intention of joining the Avengers.
Be a superhero?
Come on.
Instead, he'd rather play a few ranked games online or summon hellish demons and watch them fight, just for fun.
"Natasha, maybe you should give it a try with him," Tony said, seeing he couldn't convince him.
He hoped that Black Widow, with her well-known beauty, might have more success.
"Forget it," she replied shortly.
Natasha knew well, a guy like Aron wouldn't fall for tricks.
A guy like that only acknowledges one thing: power.
For him, only strength means respect.
She stared thoughtfully at his figure as he walked away.
Meanwhile, Nick Fury had similar thoughts while watching the same scene from his command center.
His one eye flickered in the silence.
"Sir, should I approach him?" Maria Hill asked.
Fury shook his head.
"No."
"I've already contacted Romanoff, hoping she's still willing to work with us."
Maria thought he was going to ask Black Widow for help, but Fury shook his head at that too.
"Not her. Not you either."
"For someone like him, tricks are the biggest taboo."
There was no doubt in his tone. He knew—Aron couldn't be won over with lies or charm.
"Then who's going to go?" she asked.
Fury clicked twice on the screen.
A man appeared with a gentle smile and a warm expression.
Phil Coulson.
A guy everyone likes.
Audience favorite.
Trust +50 at first glance.
"Coulson? Really... no one's better," Maria said, nodding her head.
"Remember," Fury added. "For someone like him, only honesty can open the door."
…
Meanwhile, Aron was already heading back home to Queens.
He had left behind a bunch of people racking their brains on how to win him over.
Principle of strength? Honesty?
If he knew what they were thinking, he'd just scoff: "At least try once! How do you know I don't like charming agents if you haven't even tried!?"
And Tony?
Instead of offering "freedom and privacy," he could've just said how much money he was offering.
A bunch of lunatics, Aron thought, dissatisfied with the way they tried to recruit him.
He stopped.
"Wait… I forgot something."
He remembered: during the chaos, he had left an entire load of gold and cash in a warehouse, the one meant for the deal with the Mexicans.
"Damn it! Ten million for labor and management!"