At nine in the morning, the television station was broadcasting the New York Police Department's routine press conference live.
From the wording, it seemed the authorities intended to classify last night's warehouse incident as a gang feud.
That's just blatant lies.
As for the victims in the warehouse, no one cared.
Drug manufacturing, human trafficking, illegal imprisonment, extortion, organ trafficking, multiple murders… If it happened in a wealthy district, it would definitely be a sensational case.
In Hell's Kitchen?
It probably only deserved a 30-second briefing from the press officer, delivered in a stiff tone like a clumsy diplomatic statement.
In contrast, the internet was much more active.
"What the hell are Death Fog, God of Death in the Fog?"
Mike Tang looked at the netizens' comments.
It was quite speechless.
Death Fog, God of Death in the Fog… So low, like a low-budget splatter horror film.
Still dominating the finance, entertainment, and military sections was Tony Stark, the head of Stark Industries.
By himself, he supported a bunch of tabloid newspapers and online media.
In the United States, Tony Stark was like a scorpion pulling shit—one of a kind (unique).
With him around, newspapers and portals never worried about their front-page headlines.
The weather was nice.
Mike Tang simply set up a beach chair at the supermarket entrance and became a salted fish basking in the Sun.
Feeling blissful.
A coffee shop in Hell's Kitchen.
Coulson, using the alias Clark Gregg, was reviewing Mike Tang's information.
"Mike Tang, a half-Chinese mixed-blood, Chinese name Tang Zhong, 22 years old, 1.82 meters tall, in good health, no history of mental illness, full scholarship recipient at Princeton University, majoring in law."
"After graduation, he briefly interned at the globally renowned Wei Kai Law Firm.
A year ago, he suddenly moved to Hell's Kitchen and opened a small supermarket specializing in Chinese groceries."
"A nightlife enthusiast, a notorious playboy."
Speaking of playboys, Tony Stark's extremely punchable face appeared in Coulson's mind.
As a target for observation and recruitment, if he could, Coulson wanted to find a ripe durian, break its spiky shell into two halves, smash one half on Tony's head, shove the other half up his butt, and finally smear the pulp all over his face.
Shaking his head, he chased away the chaotic thoughts.
As a senior Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., distraction was a very unprofessional behavior.
He continued to read the material.
"Outwardly operating a supermarket, he is actually a private detective and mercenary who accepts various commissions, including finding dogs, catching cats, tutoring elementary school students, ghostwriting assignments, being a professional boyfriend, negotiation, armed hostage rescue, and so on."
Tutoring elementary school students, ghostwriting assignments, and armed hostage rescue—don't they seem contradictory when put together?
The report specifically noted below: [No relevant business qualifications].
"Nonsensical, or lawless?" Coulson's face was covered in black lines, with many thoughts he wanted to vent.
"Family relations—"
"Father Tom Tang, Chinese, Chinese name Tang Zhong, currently operates a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco's Chinatown, formerly a double-flower red stick of the Triad."
"Mother, Anna R. Stewart, former S.H.I.E.L.D. researcher, Level 5 Agent, retired."
After analysis, the S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence analysis room determined that the thick fog appearing in the Big Foot Gang incident was not a chemical substance, but optical virtual imaging.
Combined with Mike Tang's family background, this could explain many things, such as Mike Tang's combat skills and the source of his black technology products.
However, Coulson instinctively felt something was wrong.
"Oh, right, practical combat issues."
Coulson quickly realized the key point.
Even if Mike Tang had been trained by his parents since childhood, skills and practical combat were not the same thing.
Many people could hit a hundred out of a hundred in training but were so nervous in real combat that they forgot to release the safety, or even if they fired, the bullets went crooked into outer space.
The combat scene showed that Mike Tang's strategy, tactics, and on-the-spot reactions were like those of a seasoned veteran, very terrifying.
"So, it's better to make personal contact."
Having made up his mind, Coulson submitted an action request.
"Action approved."
Fury habitually stood in the Shadow.
"Do you need backup?"
"Not for now."
Coulson did not intend to provoke a conflict; he only wanted to assess Mike Tang's mental state and the possibility of recruitment through close contact.
As for the lives of the Big Foot Gang members, Coulson didn't care, Fury didn't care, and as long as it didn't affect votes, the government high-ups didn't care either.
Once the attention faded, this was a case destined to gather dust in the archives.
The Sun was warm and inviting, making Mike Tang want to take another nap.
Until a figure blocked the Sun.
"Hello, I'm Clark Gregg, a senior Agent of the F.B.I. I have a few questions that require your cooperation regarding the case that occurred last night on the west bank of the Hudson River."
Coulson's polite demeanor was out of place in Hell's Kitchen.
As soon as he got out of the car, Coulson noticed many malicious, prying glances.
He wasn't flustered at all, just heightened his vigilance.
An S.H.I.E.L.D. Level 8 Agent might not have enough clout against non-human monsters, but if the opponent was a street gang, Coulson felt little pressure.
Mike Tang stood up.
Isn't this Coulson!
Mike Tang was a little surprised, not expecting S.H.I.E.L.D. to come knocking so quickly, although he didn't really care about his identity being exposed.
Mike Tang remained outwardly calm and replied, "Of course, cooperating with law enforcement officers' investigations is the responsibility of a good citizen."
Coulson took out a notebook and a pen and asked professionally, "Between 11 PM last night and 1 AM this morning, where were you, and can anyone corroborate your whereabouts?"
Mike Tang thought for a moment and answered seriously, "At that time, I should have been with Scarlett Johansson and Elizabeth Olsen."
Coulson was sure he was hearing those two names for the first time, but for some reason, they sounded vaguely familiar.
He wrote down the two names in his notebook: "So, Ms. Johansson and Ms. Olsen can testify for you?"
"No."
Mike Tang suddenly burst out laughing, "Because I was dating them in my dreams… all three of us together~"
Coulson: "…"
He was played!
And it was confirmed right to his face!
Even Coulson, who was known as a "good guy," had his mouth twitching, wanting to slap the notebook on Mike Tang's face.
Are all playboys this annoying!
Mike Tang laughed for a while and asked, "So, am I a suspect?"
Coulson shook his head: "Not at all, it's just a routine large-scale interview and screening, not targeting any specific person or…"
"Understood."
Mike Tang interrupted Coulson, "Since that's the case, according to the Fifth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, in the absence of a lawyer, I will exercise my right to remain silent."
After speaking, he took out a business card, "This is my lawyer."
Coulson: "…"
The word "CASE" on it made his eyelids twitch.
Wei Kai Law Firm was a large law firm founded in New York, ranking among the top ten globally, with exorbitant fees.
Matching the high fees was their troublesome nature, a nightmare for all judicial and law enforcement personnel.
Fortunately, Coulson wasn't a real Agent, but he really wanted to complain.
What about "cooperating with law enforcement officers' investigations is the responsibility of a good citizen"!
He changed his mind faster than flipping a book.
"Alright."
Coulson said without changing his expression, "If you have any leads, please feel free to contact the police.
Thank you for your time, goodbye."