Hong Fei watched Dr. Helen Cho descend the staircase, her figure vanishing around the corner. The moment she disappeared, he pivoted sharply. The iron armor snapped into place with mechanical precision—red base, white eyes, vivid yellow dragon patterns etched into its surface.
With a deafening roar, it launched into the sky, drawing the focus of countless lenses that swiveled to track its ascent. Above, the White Dragon shed its veil of camouflage, revealing its massive form against the clear blue.
The dragon's shadow loomed larger as it unleashed a thunderous roar that reverberated across the cityscape, echoing long after its jaws snapped shut. The Dragon King surged upward while the White Dragon plunged downward, their trajectories intersecting in a flash of blinding light.
The dragon's form dissolved into pure energy, flooding into Hong Fei's body in an instant. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices a cacophony of awe and exhilaration.
The iron armor spun mid-air, then plummeted earthward like a meteor, its speed and precision breathtaking. The ground trembled as it landed with a resounding boom, the shockwave rippling through the air.
The Dragon King stood motionless before the assembled superheroes, his presence commanding silence. The white eyes of the armor glowed faintly, projecting an intense, almost tangible gaze that seemed to pierce through the screens and into the hearts of those watching.
The surging noise of the crowd abruptly ceased. Whether on the scene or watching remotely, everyone held their breath, as if an invisible force had gripped their chests. Behind the Dragon King, the dozen or so superheroes exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions a mix of admiration and apprehension.
Before 2008, superheroes existed more in the realm of myth and legend. They were less the embodiment of idealism and more the products of deliberate propaganda by various organizations and governments. Figures like Captain America stood out, but even the Hulk was little more than a hunted monster. The world felt normal, predictable. But after 2008, everything changed.
Superheroes began to emerge like spring blossoms, each arrival bringing fresh shocks and challenges. The debate over their role and impact raged on, with theorists and commentators fueling the discourse. Yet, for all the arguments, one truth remained undeniable: today marked a historic moment for superheroes and superpowered individuals worldwide.
As long as the Dragon King stood tall, the scales of every argument would tip in favor of superheroes. His strength and experience carried an undeniable weight, a force that reshaped perceptions and silenced dissent. Steve felt a surge of excitement, a sense that he had glimpsed something profound.
At this moment, Hong Fei turned his head slowly to face the cameras, his gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd and the equipment they carried. In the heavy silence, he retracted the iron armor with practiced ease. The speed of its deployment and withdrawal was a testament to its design—built for the sudden, unpredictable demands of combat.
The moment stretched impossibly long in the eyes of the onlookers. Even after the iron armor vanished completely from Hong Fei's body, the crowd remained frozen in stunned silence. Then, for the first time before the entire world, Hong Fei flashed a smile—warm, approachable, and utterly disarming.
In an instant, that smile seemed to cleanse the air itself. The crowd erupted into chaos.
From his corner in the United Nations headquarters, Coulson watched with a pang of envy. He knew he had no superpowers, but he'd always believed his smile was its own kind of power. After all, it had turned the tide for him countless times, whether in tense negotiations or life-and-death situations. He'd never voiced this thought—it felt too silly, too embarrassing—but he'd always taken quiet pride in it. Now, with this man's appearance, his smile felt utterly insignificant.
"This smile... I'm mesmerized," someone murmured.
"He's radiant," another voice added. "Of course, an Asian face," came a third.
"Countless proofs show he's our undercover agent!"
"A 500,000-cent bounty appears!"
"We must clarify," a voice interjected firmly, "he has never been anyone's undercover agent. We don't know him personally, and our interactions have been strictly professional—business activities and media interviews. This is the natural consequence of an open society. Please refrain from baseless accusations."
"He's so handsome!"
"Protect the Dragon King of the World!"
"I want to have dragon babies with you!"
"Dream on—you can barely start a fire!"
On the ground, the crowd erupted into pandemonium after Hong Fei's smile. The roar of voices surged like an unending tsunami, and the flashes from countless cameras outshone even the sunlight, their rapid clicks merging into a relentless chorus. If this had been a debut event, Hong Fei would have made a fortune in that single moment.
The cheers were deafening, and the relentless flashes didn't so much as make Hong Fei blink. Let them shoot. Let them capture every angle. If the world needed a star hero, he was the only fitting candidate. After all, he was the strongest.
Hong Fei stepped back, standing shoulder to shoulder with the others. It was a shame The Punisher wasn't here—though perhaps it was for the best. If he were, his future vision for cracking down on underworld crimes might not be as straightforward as before. In fact, once he woke up, he'd likely target all crimes worldwide, whether codified or not.
The frenzy of photography lasted several minutes. Left unchecked, it might have gone on indefinitely. Close-ups, wide shots, half-body, full-body, solo, group—they couldn't get enough. If not for the logistical challenges, they might have even demanded superhero poses, like the iconic three-point landing.
With a subtle surge of psychic energy, Big Head stepped forward. He raised his hands gently, and the crowd gradually quieted. Once silence returned to the square, he spoke.
"This isn't the first time the Superpower Foundation has conducted a public interview, but it is the first time the Dragon King has appeared before the entire world."
"We're not here to show off," he continued. "We simply want to convey one message through this act: the Superpower Foundation belongs to everyone in the world. Human interests are our interests. Human pain is our pain. We don't belong to any single nation, nor are we above any nation. We won't serve any specific country."
"Good!" someone shouted, and the crowd roared its approval.
The crowd erupted in cheers once more. The logic was straightforward: the Dragon King founded the Superpower Foundation, his right-hand man served as chairman, and every combat-ranked hero answered to him. The Dragon King's strength needed no validation. He stood apart, untethered, a force unto himself.
When he stepped into the limelight and revealed his origins, the world could speculate about his motives, but one thing was certain—he would never become a puppet for any nation. This message, aimed squarely at S.H.I.E.L.D., was crystal clear. S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't been the United Nations' shield for a long time; it had become a rabid dog leashed to shadowy masters.
Even as this dog threatened global security, whispers of conspiracy swirled around its handlers. Inside the headquarters building, some faces darkened, though perhaps that was to be expected.
After allowing the crowd a moment to vent, Big Head raised a hand to silence them.
"The conference will conclude in one day," he announced.
"All results will be published on the Foundation's official website. Stay tuned."
His words barely finished before shouts erupted from the crowd, demanding interviews. But no one paid them any mind.
Hong Fei turned on his heel, leading his entourage into the building without a backward glance.
He had no patience for posturing or flaunting his power before the masses. To him, such displays were nothing more than peacocks strutting their feathers while ignoring their exposed backsides—not seductive, just foolish. Worse, it reeked of insecurity.
"Audience friends, the Superpower Foundation's first public appearance has concluded," a reporter announced.
"Today, we've seen their lineup, but it's incomplete. Another hero, equal in stature to Mr. Xu Wenwu and known to the Dragon King even earlier, was absent. The Dragon King personally shared that this hero's title is 'The Punisher.' True to his name, his mission is to ensure all criminals face justice. Currently, he's in a critical phase of strength enhancement and will soon step onto the global stage alongside his peers."
"Next, the Superpower Foundation will engage in talks with representatives from every nation and region at the United Nations headquarters. Key topics include defining power, allocating responsibilities, screening superpowered individuals, establishing Foundation branches worldwide, and strategizing a global defense force."
"That concludes our exclusive report!"
Bullet comments flooded the screen: "Exclusive again! You guys are killing it."
"Don't spout nonsense—we don't know, we don't understand, we're clueless."
"Five topics? Can they really wrap that up in a day?"
"Who knows if they'll finish talking, but I bet they'll argue."
"Argue? At the UN? That's not a gang fight."
"If I were the Dragon King, I'd skip the talk and lay down the law—follow me and thrive, oppose me and perish!"
"Too edgy. This involves the entire world—it's not that simple."
Hong Fei's thoughts cut through the chatter: Actually, it is that simple. If you think it's complicated, you're just not strong enough.
This is a world where superpowered strength runs through everything. It's fundamentally different from the Foundation. Stepping into the building, the cool air of the vast hall contrasted sharply with the scorching tension in the atmosphere.
The corridor was lined with personnel in crisp suits and polished leather shoes—representatives and assistants from nations across the globe. Behind them, curious UN headquarters staff moved about, stealing glances at the procession. Following their guides, the group soon entered an expansive circular conference hall.
The space was arranged in concentric rings, with a central podium that could easily accommodate four to five hundred attendees. Hong Fei and Xu Wenwu's seats were positioned in the inner circle. Originally, three seats had been reserved for The Foundation, but with The Punisher absent, Hong Fei motioned for Big Head to take the empty spot.
Big Head maintained a calm exterior despite his inner excitement. He wasn't foolish enough to imagine himself replacing The Punisher—he knew the man's absence was Hong Fei's doing. His sharp mind pieced together that The Punisher was likely being positioned for a major promotion.
The evidence was clear enough—just look at Antonia's meteoric rise in combat capability after her own promotion, now surpassing even Abomination Bronski. Sitting at Hong Fei's right hand, Big Head could only remind himself: The road ahead will be long and difficult.
The second ring filled with other attendees without protest. Not even Tony Stark—normally brimming with enough confidence to border on narcissism—would dream of questioning Big Head's placement. The man had arrived first, after all. As for Captain Rogers, he'd never cared about such hierarchies anyway. Sixteen individuals took their seats, The Punisher's absence noted.
Then multiple doors around the hall swung open simultaneously. A new group entered, led by five figures who commanded immediate deference—no one would dare walk ahead of them. Hong Fei spotted Dr. Helen Cho among the crowd. When their eyes met, she deliberately chose a seat toward the back, declining his silent invitation to join the front row.
Hong Fei could guess her reasoning—she wanted to avoid drawing attention to their connection and the potential complications that might follow. He respected her choice, not for his own sake but for hers. The HYDRA assassination attempt had left its mark.
There was another advantage to this arrangement—it might prevent certain complications with two other women when their relationships eventually became public. Not that Hong Fei would ever voice such thoughts aloud, much less ask directly.
The five leaders proceeded to the inner circle and seated themselves. Hong Fei offered a nod to one, while his gaze merely flickered across the other four before dismissing them. Within minutes, every seat in the hall was occupied, with additional observers standing along the outermost ring.
Hong Fei paid no mind to anyone beyond the first circle. They simply didn't matter. The truth everyone understood but rarely voiced—the United Nations existed because of the Big Five, not the other way around. All UN authority flowed from those five nations. Anyone outside that inner circle was insignificant in the grand scheme.
The Dragon King's presence in the first ring signaled The Foundation's ascendance—they'd clearly surpassed the peripheral players. Some attendees couldn't hide their resentment, their stares burning into Hong Fei since his entrance.
A sharp beep from the loudspeakers cut through the room. The murmurs died instantly, leaving the hall in total silence.
The middle-aged man at the center podium adjusted his microphone.
"Before we begin," he announced, "let us welcome the sixteen representatives from The Foundation."
The term 'members' had been carefully chosen by the authorities. Though the public knew figures like the Dragon King as superheroes, that vocabulary held no place here.
Without official titles, they could only be addressed collectively. Hong Fei's group didn't object—why bother? Yet an odd tension settled over the room after the introduction. The expected polite applause never came. Only silence stretched through the chamber, thick enough to feel like a challenge.
Then, deliberately, someone in the inner circle began clapping. Others quickly followed suit until the entire hall echoed with forced applause. Hong Fei's lips curved slightly while Xu Wenwu maintained his icy stare. Big Head's gaze could have cut glass.
Behind them, the original Hong Fei team stood stone-faced. Tony and Steve remained impassive, though their eyes betrayed calculation, while the others wore faint frowns. When the clapping finally died down, one thing was clear—those first hands belonged to plants.
Hong Fei locked eyes with his contact across the room, exchanging an unspoken message: I've got your back. Then his attention shifted to the speaker—a receding hairline above a Union Jack lapel pin. The man straightened his tie under Hong Fei's scrutiny, projecting bureaucratic authority while his narrowed eyes danced with quiet amusement.
This wasn't even posturing anymore. Just a bureaucrat playing games with unwanted guests.
"Boss," Big Head's psychic voice hummed in his mind, "they've got some nerve."
Hong Fei didn't respond, keeping his gaze steady on the balding man until, after several seconds, the official finally looked away.
The man shuffled papers with exaggerated care.
"This session will focus on the Superpower Foundation proposal," he declared. "Copies have been distributed. I now declare this meeting open. The Foundation's representative may begin their presentation."
Hong Fei didn't stir from his seat.
Xu Wenwu's voice cut through the room like frost.
"You received the documents two hours ago. Read them if you haven't. Ask questions if you're confused—that's your privilege."
The reaction was immediate—brows furrowed around the chamber, though a few faces stayed carefully neutral.
The balding man's smile didn't waver.
"Mr. Xu, protocol requires—"
"Unnecessary."
Xu Wenwu's interruption landed like a guillotine blade.
The official's grin twitched before recovering.
"Mr. Xu, we must follow procedure. If you're unwilling to present, perhaps someone else—" His eyes darted toward Hong Fei.
A new voice shattered the tension.
"Keep looking at him like that," Big Head drawled, elbows propped on the table, "and I'll pluck those eyeballs out with my bare hands."
The chamber exploded. Never in its history had such an overt threat been uttered here.
All eyes snapped to Big Head's elongated silhouette. He lounged with crossed arms, the sharp angles of his skull casting dramatic shadows. But it was his eyes that held the room—black pits brimming with lethal promise. One glance confirmed he meant every word.
The balding man stiffened at the implicit threat. He pretended to consult his papers.
"If the Superpower Foundation refuses to provide detailed explanations, we cannot proceed with discussion or voting."
Hong Fei straightened slightly.
"Reason."
"Established procedure—"
"Change it."
The man's head snapped up, brows furrowed. "Mr. Hong, this is the United Nations."
Hong Fei's smile remained.
"I don't need a geography lesson. Rules are rigid. Our presence here today is the greatest change possible. If you won't adapt..."
His voice dropped to a razor's edge.
"Leave."
The man's composure cracked.
"You're our guests!"
Big Head cut in.
"Hosts and guests are temporary roles."
His lip curled.
"Besides, if nothing ever changed, you'd still be emptying chamber pots for your betters."
The chamber erupted. The balding man flushed scarlet but kept his temper, turning instead to the delegate beside him—the one seated before the Stars and Stripes.
Before the American could speak, another voice sliced through the noise.
"Since The Foundation declines elaboration, let's not waste time. We have multiple topics and limited hours. Take ten minutes to review the materials. Then we'll hear opinions."
Not a suggestion—a decree.
As one of the Big Five, they commanded that much deference. The balding man shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting to the American representative, who remained silent, absorbed in documents. When he scanned the room and found every head bowed over paperwork, his jaw worked like he'd swallowed vinegar. But the outcome was set.
Xu Wenwu glanced sideways. Hong Fei gave a fractional nod. Understanding flashed between them. Big Head fidgeted, willing Hong Fei to meet his gaze—and when their eyes finally locked, the grin he received sent electricity down his spine.
Ten minutes later, the balding man cleared his throat.
"Discussion phase begins now."
His announcement rang hollow.
"First topic: The Foundation's authority."
Though he addressed the room, his attention drifted to a second-tier delegate—one who'd been stealing glances at Hong Fei since the meeting began.
Taking the cue, the man bolted upright, his head wobbling with nervous energy.
"I oppose this power allocation proposal."
"State your reasons."
Another furtive look at Hong Fei.
"The Superpower Foundation lacks official status. No government sanction, no international recognition. They deserve no privileges."
The balding man nodded before pivoting to Hong Fei.
"The Foundation's response?"
Their choreography was transparent. The trap snapped shut around Hong Fei—who didn't need to check the flag behind the objector. The accent, the features, all screamed Indian delegation. But why would an independent nation still dance to another's tune? Colonial nostalgia? Pathetic.
Hong Fei reclined. Xu Wenwu rose in his place, his gaze sweeping over the Indian delegate like a man inspecting roadkill—contempt dripping from every pore.
"If we followed your precious protocols, we wouldn't be here at all. Though honestly?"
His lip curled.
"Men like you shouldn't even breathe the same air as us once these doors close."
As soon as the words fell, many people frowned, while many others couldn't help but laugh out loud, then looked at the person with even more mocking gazes. The Indian was very angry, and the consequences...
"This is a personal attack! You should be expelled!" he shouted angrily at Xu Wenwu. The man also followed up, "Mr. Xu, this is a conference hall, please do not..."
"Shut up."
Xu Wenwu retorted directly. The man's face changed drastically. Just as he was about to continue speaking, Big Head gave him a murderous look that forced him to shut up. Xu Wenwu rolled up his sleeves and stepped away from his seat. As he paced, the Ten Rings on his arms clinked.
"I think some people might not have figured one thing out. Today's meeting isn't about us asking for or fighting for anything from you. If we need something, we can take it ourselves, and we are confident in our ability to do so. You should be very clear about that in your hearts. For those who aren't clear, I suggest you treat yourselves as dogs leashed here, or as stone statues that cannot speak. Keep your mouths shut tightly and don't make any barking sounds, otherwise..."
At this point, Xu Wenwu looked at the Indian, and as a blue light flashed, one of the rings circled the Indian's neck and slowly tightened. The crowd erupted in an uproar for the third time.
"Wait, what are you doing? Stop!" the man stood up quickly and shouted sternly. Big Head looked up, his eyes moving slightly.
The man's body instantly stiffened, then he sat back down and slammed his head onto the table. Everyone heard a loud bang, and the man passed out immediately, with a pool of blood quickly spreading on the table. Under the control of the ring, the Indian slowly lifted into the air. He kicked his legs rapidly against the table and chairs.
The people around him hurriedly moved away, seemingly wanting to flee but too embarrassed to do so because of their status. The others in the first circle couldn't react in time. Even the rabbit didn't expect Xu Wenwu and Big Head to pull this move, and the four of them were still staring at the man, stunned. In the end, it still had to rely on Hong Fei.
"That's enough."
Hong Fei's voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear to everyone's ears. Upon hearing this, Xu Wenwu quickly withdrew his hand, and the ring flew back to his arm. The Indian fell to the ground with a thud, his face, purple from suffocation, swelling rapidly as it hit the table.
At this moment, he could only clutch his neck and scratch desperately to catch his breath; surely, a few more seconds and he would have been dead. Xu Wenwu turned around, his gaze sweeping over the faces filled with fear, confusion, or anger, then he suddenly curled the corner of his mouth.
"This meeting is actually very simple. Five topics, all proposals are complete. You have the right to make suggestions, and we can make corresponding adjustments, but you do not have the right to refute."
The man behind the Stars and Stripes couldn't help but frown, "Then what is the point of this meeting?"
"Good question!"
Xu Wenwu turned around with a smile, "A notification. And a very formal one at that. Today, representatives from all countries around the world are gathered here. After today, no one from any country or region is allowed to resist or violate the established proposal for any reason. So, you had better take it seriously, because after today, any opposition will be considered a hostile act."
"Absurd!" the man with the Stars and Stripes slammed the table and stood up, "If it's just a notification, then this meeting is meaningless. No one will be willing to accept such unreasonable demands from you, and we will not be afraid of your coercion! We are countries, we are governments, we are the masters of this world. We have no need to attend this waste-of-time meeting!"
The tension in the room was palpable. The man wearing the Stars and Stripes wasn't afraid of death—he knew today wasn't his day. If even the Indian representative still drew breath, what reason did he have to die? His confidence came from representing the undisputed most powerful nation on earth. So what if they were superhumans? So what if they could disable a single nuke?
Disabling one didn't mean surviving the full might of his country's arsenal. HYDRA's dozen nuclear warheads might be shocking, but they were pocket change compared to his nation's stockpile. If these enhanced individuals crossed the line, his country's trump cards could take the entire world down with them. That was his unshakable conviction—the privilege of representing a superpower.
Xu Wenwu studied the American's expression and found no trace of fear, only the polished composure of a career diplomat. Then Xu smiled.
"Fine," he said, gesturing toward the exit. "The door's right there. But don't say I didn't warn you. Walk out now, and you—along with the nation you represent—will be permanently blacklisted by the Foundation."
"From this moment forward," he continued, voice dropping to a dangerous calm, "no Foundation member will ever set foot on your soil again, no matter what catastrophe befalls it."
Stars and Stripes let out a disbelieving laugh. Instead of arguing, he turned to Tony Stark, who sat rigidly staring straight ahead.
"Mr. Stark," he demanded, "do you endorse this madness?"
Tony didn't blink.
"Sorry, I'm just rank-and-file here—zero management authority. Ask me again after I get promoted."
"You—"
"What about me?"
"Do you realize what you're doing?"
"Changing the world. Obviously."
Stars and Stripes opened his mouth to retort, then snapped it shut as Hong Fei rose.
Ignoring the American entirely, Hong Fei fixed his gaze on the three figures in the innermost circle—one of whom was watching him with unsettling cheer.
"Historical precedent," he began, "has given you a fundamental misunderstanding of reality. You believe nuclear supremacy lets you ignore other forms of power. No matter how superhumans perform, you still see yourselves as the world's puppetmasters."
He leaned forward, voice soft but carrying the weight of tectonic plates shifting.
"Let me correct that misconception. The times have changed."
"The Foundation's proposal balances everyone's interests. Objections are expected—voice them. We'll adjust what can be adjusted, compromise where we must. What you don't understand now, you'll learn through implementation."
His eyes hardened.
"But if you reject it entirely? Fine. The Foundation withdraws permanently from your borders. Just remember—all superhumans fall under our jurisdiction, whether you like it or not."
Stars and Stripes scoffed.
"Pretty words. But superhumans born in our nation are our citizens. What gives you the right?"
Hong Fei didn't even look at him.
"Because I stopped a nuke that would've vaporized worthless garbage like you. Clear enough?"
The American's face purpled with rage.
"Mind your tone, Mr. Hong. This is the United Nations headquarters, not your home!"
Hong Fei didn't bother turning his head.
"If you disagree, let's settle it physically. I guarantee we'll survive. You won't. The powerful will die first, dragging your civilians down with you."
"Absurd! You think a nation fears some upstart Foundation?"
"Prove me wrong."
Stars and Stripes turned on his heel, ready to leave. He'd barely taken two steps when a voice called out from behind him.
"I've finished reviewing your proposal. I agree."
A second voice chimed in almost immediately, "I agree as well."
Then came a third, "Agreed."
Stars and Stripes spun around, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. Three of the Big Five had just given their approval.
One agreement was expected. A second could be rationalized. But the third? Didn't they see the fourth representative still slumped over the table, bleeding? Hong Fei's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Gentlemen, there's no need to rush. We can discuss the details at leisure. Let's take our time."
Stars and Stripes couldn't hold back.
"Wait—why would you do this?"
Hong Fei's brow furrowed.
"Why haven't you left yet?"
Stars and Stripes clenched his fists, a silent roar of frustration echoing in his mind. He turned his gaze to the third representative, his eyes blazing. The man didn't flinch. Instead, he addressed Hong Fei with calm sincerity.
"The Eiffel Tower is an iconic landmark, and Paris is a city of romance. I'm relieved it still stands. Thank you, Dragon King."
Hong Fei inclined his head.
"You're welcome."
Not everyone was an ungrateful wolf. Sure, the French were often the butt of surrender jokes, and their reputation wasn't exactly spotless. But at this moment, the French representative seemed almost likable. The pressure now shifted squarely to Stars and Stripes. New York, Washington—the Dragon King had saved this country's cities at least three times. Under the weight of their collective gazes, Stars and Stripes sat back down.
He could leave, but he knew the consequences. If he walked away now, the three representatives would be overjoyed, and even the unconscious man at the table might wake up just to faint again from sheer delight. Because it would mean isolation. Hong Fei didn't press the issue. In the silence, he spoke again:
"Sitting here today is giving face to all of humanity."
"Negotiating with you is giving face to order."
He paused, his tone sharpening.
"But if you think you can put on airs or play tricks, who the hell do you think you are to have 'face'?"
The words were crude, but the logic was undeniable. Stars and Stripes' face flushed red with anger, but he stayed silent. The first agenda item: The Foundation's powers. The formal discussion began.
Defining such power wasn't simple. Every country had its own laws and agencies. The best model to reference was Interpol—and the worst model was also Interpol. In terms of significance, Interpol and The Foundation shared some similarities in positioning, but Interpol's actual capabilities were worlds apart from The Foundation's.
On foreign soil, Interpol could hardly do anything. Don't be fooled by the movies; it wasn't as impressive as it seemed. In some ways, it was downright weak. So, the inspiration was the concept, not the specifics of rights and responsibilities.
The clauses were too lengthy to list, but the gist was this: whenever any individual, in any region, threatened social stability or global security in any way, The Foundation had the authority to act—and no country could interfere. Note: Social stability referred to events that could directly or indirectly cause over a thousand casualties.
The discussion results? First, change 'one thousand' to 'ten thousand.' Second, add a restriction: after completing a mission, The Foundation must submit a detailed mission analysis report for review and approval by the Big Five. Any rejected cases required a detailed explanation and reasonable compensation to the parties involved. What was the difference between a thousand and ten thousand? It was to tie The Foundation's hands. Hong Fei had previously thought they might reduce the threshold to a hundred. After all, the death of a hundred people was undeniably a major event. But he'd clearly overestimated some people's sense of shame.
The Rabbit raised no objections throughout; his smile remained unchanged, his message clear: I support you!
The second added restriction was practically meaningless. Reporting after the fact? Who could verify how those reports were written? The post-operation explanations and compensations were even more absurd—The Foundation already handled all follow-up compensation as a core principle. This was just window dressing. Fine, let them have their little formality.
Next up: The Foundation's obligations. In short: The Foundation must assist any country or region in defending against disasters from outer space or other force majeure events. After discussion, they added a caveat—The Foundation couldn't refuse assistance requests for personal reasons.
Third item: Superhuman screening and selection. Every superhuman worldwide had to register with the Superpower Foundation. All registration data would be classified as top secret, shared only with the superhuman's home country. As the largest global superpower organization, The Foundation would take the lead in screening superhumans across all nations.
Countries were also barred from conducting unreasonable research on superhumans. Violations would incur penalties based on severity. The Foundation would regularly select superhumans for training. While they could return to their home countries afterward, they'd fall under The Foundation's unified command during global threats. Another restriction was added: Registration data would be subject to UN oversight, and countries retained the right to form their own superhuman teams.
Hong Fei had brought forward something resembling the Superhuman Registration Act—a proposal steeped in conspiracy theories. This item had one glaring loophole and one unresolved controversy. The loophole? If a superhuman refused to disclose their identity, they could renounce their nationality. Only The Foundation would know their true nature. The controversy? The definition of "unreasonable research" was buried in lengthy clauses, while the "penalties of varying degrees" remained conspicuously vague.
Penalties could range from warnings and fines to... well, no one knew the upper limit. It would come down to who had the bigger fist when the time came. Fourth item: Foundation branch locations. Branches would only be established in the Big Five and twenty other countries across all continents, ensuring rapid response to emergencies. They added a restriction—no more than forty branches total, and none could be located in national capitals.
Fifth item: Establishing a global external defense force system. The Foundation's Hero Sequence would handle external defense entirely. The Foundation would collaborate closely with all nations. Once The Foundation issued an external threat warning, no country could continue war-related activities, ensuring global unity against external invasions.
Discussion results: Add a restriction—The Foundation may not probe any country's military secrets and holds no superiority over any nation's armed forces. It was like taking off your pants just to fart—completely redundant. If Hong Fei truly valued military strength, all his years of effort would've been wasted.
The so-called cooperation listed in the final clause served a single purpose—to keep these nations from interfering at crucial moments. At most, he might borrow their "little mushrooms" temporarily. One day would suffice. After all representatives signed, the documents were prepared in triplicate: one for each party, with the final copy archived at UN headquarters.
By the time the crowd dispersed, the full moon hung high overhead. Hong Fei inhaled his first breath of night air and exhaled slowly—not from lingering tension, but satisfaction. The long-term stability of his Earthbound operations was finally secured.
Now, whether he left for a year, a decade, or longer, The Foundation would endure. At worst, there might be one or two traitors within its ranks—no more than that. He trusted his own judgment. As for anyone else foolish enough to challenge The Foundation? They'd be signing their own death warrant.
As for alien creatures capable of moving against The Foundation, they wouldn't bother. Such beings would pursue far more direct objectives. The bottom line? Short of Earth's annihilation, nothing else mattered. And so, Master Hong had just one task left.