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Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: Reactions from All Sides

S.H.I.E.L.D., Triskelion Headquarters

Level 7 agent Phil Coulson hurriedly walked toward the director's office with a tablet in hand. He'd just been temporarily granted Level 8 clearance and was particularly motivated these days—he saw this as the prelude to a promotion and a raise.

He knocked on the director's door. Behind the desk sat a one-eyed man with a shiny bald head that looked so slick even a fly would slip off.

"Director, urgent matter." Coulson handed over the tablet. "You need to see this."

On the screen was footage of the "Black and White Battle" that had just taken place in San Francisco.

Nick Fury's expression froze. "Where did this happen?"

"San Francisco," Coulson replied.

Upon seeing the oversized black panther and white dog, Fury immediately grasped the situation. "Are they superpowered?"

"Yes." Coulson tapped the screen to show another file. "The white dog is named Jack Bryan, a San Francisco police officer. I traced the black panther jumping from a hospital window—this helped us identify him. Here's their full information."

"Tell the tech team to analyze their physical performance based on the destruction seen in the footage," Fury ordered immediately.

"I already did that before coming here." Coulson proudly pulled up another document. "This is the preliminary analysis they just sent."

"Nice work," Fury praised with a smile.

See, a good leader knows how to dangle a carrot—how else can you keep your team motivated?

As for fulfilling promises? Come on, you weren't really expecting that, were you?

"Based on the analysis, both animals exhibit strength and speed well beyond normal panthers or Great Pyrenees. Also, they were hit multiple times by speeding vehicles during the fight without showing any signs of injury." Coulson played several close-ups for Fury.

Without hesitation, Fury ordered, "Head there immediately. We need them back."

"Getting there from the East Coast will be slow, and the black panther is a Black former soldier—there's a chance the military may get there before I do," Coulson suggested. "Why not send someone from the L.A. branch?"

"No." Fury flatly refused.

Sure, they were unusual animals—humans turned into beasts—but unless they proved to have more value, they were nothing more than lab specimens. S.H.I.E.L.D. had plenty of those.

The L.A. branch had more important matters to attend to.

"The fish hasn't taken the bait yet?" Coulson asked in surprise. "Is the Spear Bureau really pulling out of North America?"

"Is that your place to ask?" Fury's face turned stern.

"Boss, I have Level 8 clearance now…" Coulson pouted like a girl who just got ghosted by a player after giving it all up.

Fury cleared his throat and softened his tone: "Zheng Xian is a tough one. He wouldn't give up on North America, just like we'd never give up on the Far East."

"The Spear Bureau will definitely send someone new to rebuild their intel network."

"Boss, if I catch that person, can I get a full promotion?" Coulson asked eagerly.

"Heh… If you really catch him, I'll consider promoting you to Level 9." Fury wasn't entirely bluffing either.

Over the past few years, he'd clashed multiple times with Miguel across the Pacific and knew just how slippery he was. Even after years of groundwork dismantling the Spear Bureau's network in the Americas—especially North America—he'd only managed to get a corpse, not a live agent.

Fury strongly suspected the Spear Bureau still had independent networks outside their known American operations. After all, every good agent had multiple hideouts—he did the same.

"Hurry up and move out. Take a Quinjet. If you can recruit the Black pilot, do it. But at the very least, bring the San Francisco officer back."

While S.H.I.E.L.D. was watching the "Black and White Battle" unfold on the streets of San Francisco, far away in Africa, Wakanda—renowned for its global surveillance—was also watching.

"Father!"

Prince T'Challa and Princess Shuri burst into King T'Chaka's office.

Shuri rotated the kimoyo beads on her wrist to project satellite footage of the battle.

T'Challa pointed at the black panther in the video, speaking urgently: "Father, this black panther is actually a transformed human. His speed and strength nearly match mine after I consumed the Heart-Shaped Herb. And he's Black too."

"Could it be that the Panther God has chosen—"

"Nonsense!" T'Chaka snapped. "The Panther God only blesses Wakandans. This one is clearly the work of heathens."

"But… he really does resemble—"

"Silence!" T'Chaka glared fiercely at his son.

What a fool—no political sense at all. You don't throw around that kind of talk lightly.

The Panther God was the heart of Wakandan faith. If people started linking this outsider with the deity, what would happen then?

Historically, Black Panthers were just regular people empowered by the Heart-Shaped Herb. No one had ever truly transformed into a panther before—let alone one this tall and strong, rivaling even the enhanced warriors.

Compared side-by-side, who would the citizens believe was the true chosen of the Panther God?

Would rival tribes exploit the moment to question the legitimacy of the royal family?

If the "divine right to rule" crumbled, the T'Chaka family's authority over Wakanda would be gone.

Worse still, the Panther God actually existed. What if he saw this shape-shifter and decided he was the true chosen one?

That terrifying possibility darkened T'Chaka's face—

Well… darker than usual? Never mind then.

"Shuri, scrub this footage immediately. No domestic server is to retain a copy." T'Chaka switched into crisis management mode.

"Send someone—no, activate deep-cover assets. Hire mercenaries in America. That panther must be eliminated."

As King, T'Chaka wasn't lacking in decisiveness or action. But to avoid leaks—and especially the Panther God's notice—they couldn't use any Wakandan agents.

"This stays between the three of us. Not a word to anyone. Not even your mother," T'Chaka warned.

"Understood," Shuri replied firmly.

"Father… shouldn't we at least pray to the Panther God…" T'Challa, ever the sincere believer, couldn't help but feel uneasy about going behind the deity's back.

"The Panther God is asleep. This small matter doesn't warrant waking him." T'Chaka shot another glare.

Why can't this boy grow up already? Even his younger sister's more mature.

Meanwhile, in his San Francisco estate, Robert was calmly waiting.

He tossed a stone into the water, watching the ripples spread.

Before the waves could rise, it was time to enjoy the thrill of a lottery draw.

(End of Chapter)

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