Nick Fury took a deep breath and asked,
"What exactly must I do for you to be satisfied, Mr. Reed?"
The moment Lucas Reed heard this, he knew Fury had already compromised.
Not only that—he was prepared to bleed heavily and be carved up without complaint.
Lucas did not find this strange at all.
This was a concession bought with strength.
If he had been an ordinary person—or merely a low-tier enhanced individual—S.H.I.E.L.D., with its sheer scale and authority, would never have adopted this attitude.
"I'm actually quite easy to talk to," Lucas said with a gentle smile.
"My parents taught me from a young age to treat everyone with a calm and peaceful mindset."
"Your parents are admirable people," Fury replied promptly, playing along.
"I deeply respect their values and their approach to upbringing."
Lucas continued,
"But they also told me that if someone offends you, you must strike back with thunderous force—so they understand you are not to be trifled with."
"..."
Fury wisely chose to remain silent.
"So," Lucas raised an eyebrow,
"tell me—how do you plan to soothe my wounded soul?"
Fury's mind raced. After a few seconds, he spoke:
"According to special jurisdiction liability statutes, we are required to compensate you for emotional distress, lost time, and related damages—amounting to a total of one hundred and seventy thousand U.S. dollars."
"Adding transportation costs, service fees, and legal expenses, the total compensation comes to three hundred thousand dollars."
As he finished speaking, Fury decisively pulled out his checkbook from inside his coat.
With swift strokes, he filled in the amount, signed it, and handed it to Lucas with solemn formality.
"Five hundred thousand?"
Lucas raised an eyebrow slightly after glancing at the number.
"The additional two hundred thousand is my personal apology for this incident," Fury explained calmly as he capped his pen.
"I hope it will earn your forgiveness. All taxes will be handled on our end."
"Very good. Then I forgive you—on Franklin's account," Lucas said, pocketing the check and breaking into a broad smile.
Fury's eyes flickered subtly, then he laughed heartily as well.
"Then I truly thank you for your generosity. It's also S.H.I.E.L.D.'s good fortune."
"I won't take up any more of your time. I know you're very busy," Lucas said as he stood up.
Fury accompanied him out of the Triskelion headquarters.
When they reached the heavily damaged entrance, Lucas suddenly turned and said,
"Nick Fury—don't casually use that thing I destroyed earlier ever again.
If I hadn't been here this time, your agents and half your headquarters would have been wiped out."
With that, Lucas rose into the air and flew straight into the sky.
Watching the calamity finally leave, Fury's expression darkened, as if water could drip from his face.
---
Back in his office, two figures were already present—one of them lying on the floor.
"Boss, he's the one who issued the attack order," Hawkeye said, nudging the man on the ground with his foot.
"Did you find anything on him?" Fury demanded, staring coldly at the Level Six agent.
"No," Hawkeye shook his head.
"He was careful. No traces left behind."
"From now on, I'm forming an internal task force," Fury said through clenched teeth.
"It will operate outside S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official structure. I'll personally select the members."
"The top priority is to identify exactly how many traitors like this exist within S.H.I.E.L.D."
"And if we encounter someone higher-ranking than you?" Hawkeye hesitated before asking.
"Report directly to me," Fury answered without pause.
"Understood, Director," Hawkeye replied immediately.
---
At that moment, high in the sky, Lucas suddenly stopped mid-flight.
"…Wait. This doesn't feel right," he muttered.
"Leaving like this doesn't seem worth it."
After a brief moment of thought, he abruptly turned around and flew straight back toward S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.
---
"Natasha, drop everything you're doing right now."
"Yes—everything."
"I've already sent you the target's information. Your mission is—damn it!"
While issuing orders, Nick Fury was startled half to death when Lucas suddenly appeared outside the office's glass window.
Fury hurriedly hung up the call and forced a strained smile as Lucas walked in.
"Mr. Reed… may I ask what brings you back this time?"
Lucas replied calmly,
"I was thinking that my current income might not be enough to support my expenses, so… you understand."
Fury immediately grasped the implication and asked cautiously,
"If you're open to it, I could inquire whether any companies are in need of a security consultant."
"With your capabilities, the salary would certainly be substantial. As long as it's within North America, most companies would still be willing to do me a favor."
"No need for that," Lucas laughed.
"I hear S.H.I.E.L.D.'s benefits are quite good. I was thinking of taking a position here—say, a security consultant. What do you think?"
Fury fell silent for several seconds before replying,
"That wouldn't be a problem at all. Do you have any requirements regarding salary or job scope?"
After a brief calculation, Lucas said,
"Annual salary must be no less than 1.2 million U.S. dollars—after tax. No restrictions on location or working hours."
"And you must prepay one full year's salary, taxes already settled. How does that sound?"
"Deal," Fury agreed without hesitation.
After all, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s annual budget for weapons development and personnel training ran into the hundreds of millions.
And Lucas's actions today had made it painfully clear just how fragile and ineffective those investments truly were.
Paying a few million dollars a year to retain someone like him as a deterrent?
Only a fool would refuse.
In truth, Fury had considered this option before.
But S.H.I.E.L.D. had already offended him, and bringing it up earlier would have been inappropriate.
Given Lucas's aversion to surveillance and interference, Fury would not have dared to test the waters for at least another two or three years—if Lucas had not raised the idea himself.
"I'll raise it to two million dollars per year after tax," Fury added.
"Payment can be made entirely in cash. If you're willing, we can sign a long-term contract of three years or more, with the full amount paid upfront."
"No need for a contract," Lucas replied casually.
"You know as well as I do that it's meaningless for people like us. All you need is trust."
There was no chance he would ever sign a contract with S.H.I.E.L.D.
He tossed a small black card to Fury.
This position was nothing more than a source of extra income—and a legitimate channel to access S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources when needed.
When the time was right, it could even be used to intervene directly in Hydra's inevitable betrayal.
Besides, Fury would never bother him over trivial matters.
"My contact information is on that card. Reach out if you need me. As for the money—just wire it to my account."
With that, Lucas left the Triskelion building once again.
Watching the figure disappear completely into the sky, Fury took out his phone and made a call.
"Natasha, you don't need to go anymore."
"No—the target no longer requires monitoring. Do not approach him again.
Destroy all the information I sent you immediately."
"Don't ask why. Just execute the order."
---
Middle East. Outside a private estate.
Natasha, already packed and seated in her vehicle, frowned after ending the call.
"Canceling the mission so abruptly…"
"I'm very curious what this man did to make Nick Fury reach such a decision."
She looked at the laptop screen displaying the image of a handsome man with a radiant smile.
After a moment, she took a controller from her pocket, pressed the button, and tossed it into the nearby lake before driving away.
Minutes later, the estate was engulfed in towering flames, obliterated amid a deafening roar.