Nick Fury's sudden question made Herman frown slightly.
Why would that Baldy from S.H.I.E.L.D. ask something like this? He didn't believe for a second that his identity as a transmigrator had been exposed. If S.H.I.E.L.D. could actually uncover that, they might as well rename themselves the Transmigrator Management Association.
The identity crafted by the [All-Seeing Eye] was flawless, a genuine persona created by directly rewriting history.
Take his initial identity as the [Fallen Director]. Even if the Ancient One rewound time, all she would see was Herman growing up normally from childhood.
S.H.I.E.L.D. could never dig up anything.
"What do you mean?"
Herman raised an eyebrow with a perfectly natural expression. He suspected Baldy was just fishing—this paranoid director of S.H.I.E.L.D. loved using tricks like that.
"You know exactly what I mean."
Nick Fury's gaze was heavy as he stared at him.
He knew full well Herman could slap his head clean off, yet he didn't avert his eye for a second.
"I always thought your intel-gathering skills weren't bad."
Herman dropped the staring contest, walked to his desk, and took a sip of coffee.
"But now," he said calmly, "I'm starting to doubt your capabilities. I grew up in New York. My parents were Chinese immigrants. They died in an accidental lab explosion."
"At fourteen, I inherited their estate and company. At eighteen, I formally renamed it Umbrella Biotech."
"Of course..."
"In my spare time, I also pursued my dreams, made a few films—some good, some bad. None of that should be hard to verify."
He looked at Nick Fury standing by the window, his voice steady.
"Your personal background is clean. Nothing suspicious. But none of it explains your abilities."
Nick Fury's voice dropped lower.
"You've never heard of mutants?"
Herman's smile didn't waver. He had long since prepared the most airtight answer, and he was certain Professor Charles would happily back him up.
It wasn't that he had to pose as a mutant—it was simply the identity the public accepted most easily, sparing him needless explanations.
"You and that professor at the X-Mansion are close," Fury acknowledged with a nod, though his eyes showed clear doubt.
"A body of steel, flight, eyes that shoot fire, the ability to teleport wherever you want... Oh, and psychic intrusion and mind control as well." Fury listed Herman's abilities one by one.
Then, with a tone both uncertain yet oddly firm, he added, "Maybe you're hiding even more."
He didn't wait for Herman's reply.
"I know mutants. No one knows them better than I do. And I've never seen a mutant like you—someone with this many powers."
His voice was thick with suspicion. It wasn't arrogance; S.H.I.E.L.D. really did have vast knowledge on mutants.
Under his stare, Herman only curled his lips.
"That just proves your intel isn't complete. What, my genes can't have mutated a few more times than the others you've seen?"
There was a trace of mockery in his tone. "Or do you have some rulebook limiting how many times a mutant's genes can mutate?"
He took another sip of coffee.
Nick Fury's single eye flickered as he looked at the man before him, utterly beyond comparison. Then, with visible restraint, he continued.
"You should be well aware of just how powerful your abilities are. We can't restrain you, but we still need to understand exactly what you're capable of."
Nick Fury paused before continuing. "Even if we accept that you're a Mutant, in order to prepare for any threat you might pose, we need to know what other abilities you're hiding."
His tone carried a trace of pleading, his attitude unusually earnest.
But Herman only shook his head.
"Who could say for certain? My genes are a bit unruly. When they decide to mutate, I might just gain another ability."
"You've studied. You should know—genes can't exactly be controlled." Herman flatly rejected Fury's request.
Laughing at Iron Man was one thing. Compromising with S.H.I.E.L.D. was another. Herman didn't place much importance on his current stats or abilities.
But he knew this much: the moment he gave in once, S.H.I.E.L.D. would demand more the next time, and their requests would only become more excessive.
The Avengers were the best example of that. Eventually, these organizations might even try to extract his blood for research.
That was something Herman would never allow. Whether S.H.I.E.L.D. or HYDRA, neither would ever be permitted to entertain such ideas about him.
Which was why… he wouldn't compromise. Not even once. He had to make his hardline stance clear so that S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't dare harbor other schemes.
"Genes mutate whenever they want?" Fury's face twisted slightly. He looked at Herman, his voice laced with resignation.
"Do you actually expect me to write that into your evaluation file?" Fury was speechless, though he didn't dare risk truly angering Herman.
In his mind, Herman was one of Earth's strongest defenders.
Unlike those with a bit of power who immediately stirred up chaos, this overwhelmingly strong man was surprisingly low-key.
Unless it was absolutely unavoidable, Fury had no wish to turn him into an enemy. He knew all too well that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s power, while formidable against ordinary people, was still limited.
Agents like Black Widow, Hawkeye, or Mockingbird could handle international missions or assassination operations without issue.
But against supernatural beings? Fury knew his people would crumble as easily as civilians.
Faced with cosmic threats and the increasing frequency of supernatural events, Fury was desperate to recruit individuals like Herman.
"What's the problem? Actually, I'd prefer if you started calling me Superman—and made sure the whole world knew it."
Herman made the suggestion with complete seriousness.
"My report has to go to the higher-ups," Fury replied, sounding thoroughly exasperated.
"They won't have any objections. And if they do, tell them to come talk to me directly." Herman knew perfectly well that even S.H.I.E.L.D. was subject to oversight.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had considerable global influence, but it was nowhere near omnipotent. They were still under the control of the World Security Council.
And the Council, though formally under the U.N., was also subject to the sway of corporate giants like Herman himself. After all, in America, political power ultimately flowed from money.
"Very well. If anyone questions it, I'll make sure they hear it from you." Fury nodded, dropping the matter of Herman's "confession."
The real reason he'd come here was to confirm Herman's identity. But as Herman had said, there was nothing for him to find—no cracks anywhere.
Fury fell silent for a moment.
Then, instead of pressing further, he carefully shifted the subject.
"Your power is vital to maintaining global stability. I have a plan that needs someone like you to join."
The plan, of course, was the Avengers.
As for becoming a superhero?
Herman had no interest at all.
Besides—Avengers?
The name itself sounded unlucky.
"Need me to book you an eye doctor? No wonder you wear an eye patch—did you mistake me for a superhero with that blind eye of yours?" Herman flatly rejected Nick Fury's attempt at recruitment.
"Everyone sees you as a superhero. You've got countless fans chanting your name," Fury pressed, trying to persuade him.
But—
"Stop right there! First, I will absolutely not join your little Superboy program. Second… do you honestly think you can afford my salary?"
"Don't forget, the money that feeds you, and the funds you use to build those safe houses, all come from taxes paid by people like me."
Herman's tone dripped with sarcasm. His attitude was arrogant and unyielding, but every word he spoke was the truth.
"You certainly know a lot."
Fury didn't bristle at the mockery. Instead, he was shaken by how much Herman seemed to know.
The "Superboy program"… wasn't that the Avengers Initiative he had never revealed to anyone? And the safe houses—those weren't even known to the World Security Council.
If not for the shielding device at his neck ensuring his mind couldn't be read, Fury might have thought Herman had rifled through his memories.
He discreetly checked the device. No issues.
"Secrets? Not to me. If anything, I probably understand S.H.I.E.L.D. better than you do."
Herman's tone was layered, almost taunting.
Fury furrowed his brow.
He considered how Herman could have obtained such information. He recalled once jotting down the Avengers idea in a Level 10 classified file, nothing more than a passing thought at the time. Perhaps Herman had intercepted that memo?
Then he thought of the sharp young hacker working under Herman.
'That must be it,' Fury reasoned silently.
As for the safe houses, well, his habit of stockpiling them was no secret among trusted agents. Traces of the funding were even visible in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s financial reports. Herman guessing it wasn't unthinkable.
As long as he didn't know the locations, it wasn't a major problem.
"Are you really not going to reconsider?" Fury asked, still unwilling to give up.
"No."
Herman saw straight through his thoughts.
"For world peace? For the sake of protecting a beautiful world? Sorry, I'm not that noble. I don't owe anything to strangers."
His tone was unwavering.
Of course, that didn't mean he was completely inflexible.
"If there's something you want done, and you can name a price that satisfies me, maybe I'll consider helping you out."
His words were calm and measured.
Working as a superhero for free—for S.H.I.E.L.D. or for Earth—was out of the question. But if there was payment involved, then there was room to talk.
After all, he had his own reasons for making use of S.H.I.E.L.D. from time to time.
So naturally, he didn't reject the idea of dealing with them. But only on his terms. The choice of whether to accept or refuse would always remain his.
"Looks like you really do enjoy making deals." Fury had heard whispers of Herman's recent arrangement with Tony Stark.
To think that the same man Stark once described as a "devilish capitalist" was now looking to treat S.H.I.E.L.D. in the same way.
"Let's be clear. It's not that I enjoy it—I just don't believe in selfless giving. I believe in equivalent exchange." Herman swirled his now-cool coffee and corrected him.
"What's the difference?" Fury muttered, shaking his head with mild frustration.
S.H.I.E.L.D. could refuse Herman's terms.
But Fury had no real intention of doing so.
The world's current state was no longer one S.H.I.E.L.D. could stabilize on its own.
Any extra safeguard… was not something he would ever turn away.
"Perhaps that's the only way."
Nick Fury hadn't gotten the outcome he wanted, but striking a deal with Herman wasn't the worst result either.
"We've come across something that may require your intervention. Ideally, I'd like you to bring it back to me."
From the pocket of his trench coat, Fury pulled out several photographs.
He handed them to Herman while explaining, "This object suddenly appeared on Earth yesterday, releasing a massive energy surge. According to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s experts, if its power were to erupt, it could easily wipe out an entire city..."
His tone was heavy with caution. Herman took the photos curiously, and when he saw what was pictured, a faint smile spread across his face.
"Relax. It won't explode."
Herman's voice carried absolute certainty, leaving Fury momentarily stunned.
"How can you be so sure?"
Suspicion flickered in Fury's eye. It wasn't that he dismissed Herman's judgment—he just found it far too casual.
True, S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't know these strange things half as well as Herman did. But Herman hadn't even been to the site himself. How could he make such a firm judgment so quickly?
"Because I know what it is. Your people couldn't move it, right? Not even with heavy machinery, not even an inch."
Herman studied the photo of the dark, massive hammer, his thoughts stirred. So it had begun. With Iron Man's emergence, the Marvel Universe was already setting its stage. And this mighty weapon in the picture—wasn't it none other than Mjolnir, Thor's hammer?
"You really do recognize it!"
Fury froze again. Everything Herman said lined up perfectly.
"Tell that so-called expert of yours to pack it up and go home. If this thing ever exploded, leveling a nation wouldn't be difficult in the slightest."
"But its energy is rock-solid. Even if you dropped a nuclear bomb on it, it wouldn't destabilize."
Herman remembered clearly.
Thor's hammer was a weapon forged from the core of a dead star.
The energy inside it was more than enough to annihilate a nation.
"Aren't you going to explain what exactly it is?" Fury asked, his confusion written across his face.
"How much do you know about Norse mythology?"
Herman asked suddenly.
"I know a bit..." Fury's voice cut off mid-sentence. He wasn't stupid. His pupil shrank instantly to the size of a pinprick.
"This... this can't be!?"
His expression shifted dramatically.
Thor's hammer?
Were mythological gods real?
"Don't get caught up in your shock just yet. What you should be thinking about now is—what kind of payment you're offering me for this deal."
Herman chuckled, lifting his gaze toward the stunned Baldy in front of him. His tone was calm, deliberate, with a trace of amusement.
"After all, we're talking about going up against Odin, the All-Father."