London. In a high-rise restaurant, Hong Fei sat on the left, gazing at the magnificent architecture on the north bank of the River Thames: Westminster Abbey. And the church's affiliated clock tower—Big Ben. It wasn't that he was specifically visiting the so-called World cultural heritage site; the hotel, Number Four, had simply booked their room on the opposite bank. Looking at the two buildings, Hong Fei felt no reverence or awe, only a sudden thought of a movie.
When V arrived at his destination on the subway, carrying a train car full of explosives, that grand fireworks display was destined to be forever etched in certain people's minds. Samuel sat opposite Hong Fei. His head was wrapped in cloth strips fashioned into a high hat, and thick powder covered the green tint on his face. He'd almost been stopped at the door. He'd been constantly observing Hong Fei's gaze. Following his line of sight, he frowned at the grand cathedral.
Suddenly, his eyelids twitched, and he immediately whipped his head around to stare at Hong Fei. Hong Fei withdrew his gaze and slightly raised his eyelids. "Something up?"
Samuel swallowed hard, leaned in, and whispered sneakily, "You aren't thinking about anything terrifying, are you?"
Hong Fei smiled faintly. "What are you talking about?"
Samuel straightened up and shook his head quickly.
Hong Fei looked at his strange appearance and shook his head. "In a few years, you'll be able to discard all disguises and walk down the street directly."
Of course, Samuel didn't believe it.
A persistent drizzle beat against the glass window. In an instant, the sky was covered with dark clouds, and rumbling thunder and lightning intertwined among the cloud layers. Watching the lightning crisscrossing the sky at will, Hong Fei thought of someone again. He wondered if he would have the chance to cosplay as Thor in the future. Ding-dong! His phone chimed softly. Hong Fei glanced at it, then picked up the phone and smiled at the screen. One hundred million had arrived. "You continue. When you're done eating, go back and stay there by yourself. I'm going out for a walk."
With that, Hong Fei stood up and left directly. Walking out of the building, he opened a black umbrella and wove through the sparsely populated streets. For the next week, Hong Fei wandered aimlessly through the streets of London, while Samuel, hindered by his own appearance, could only remain in the hotel. His goal was to see if this country, older than the U.S., possessed an equally colorful and diverse other side of the World, or perhaps to have an unexpected encounter with those melee mages. Facts proved that he had overthought it.
Perhaps those guys were hiding very deeply, or maybe they were hiding in the Mirror Dimension, observing reality.
In any case, even though Hong Fei opened the Eyes of Death, he gained nothing.
Seven days later, Samuel and Hong Fei left the hotel together.
Samuel headed straight to the airport, while Hong Fei went alone to a warehouse again and materialized a brand-new tank.
At the same time, in the secret base of a certain wealthy oil tycoon in the Middle East, it suddenly became noisy, and soon it was directly placed under martial law.
Before leaving the warehouse, Hong Fei noticed that the energy in his body was indeed increasing.
After lingering for a moment, he left the warehouse with satisfaction and simultaneously sent a delivery reminder to the British.
Returning to the hotel, they didn't stay long and went directly to the airport.
The plane took off, heading toward the Southern Hemisphere.
This was also the last stop of his trip.
The remaining clients were still hesitating, and Hong Fei, not lacking money, had to a certain extent lost interest in continuing to bicker with them.
So, he planned to return to New York after finishing this job, hand these people over to Number One to continue chatting, and at the same time, explore some other sales channels, for example, Africa, the continent forgotten by Frank.
Seeing that Samuel was a bit nervous, Hong Fei couldn't help but ask, "Are you sick?"
"No, I'm not, it's just..."
"Say whatever you have to say directly. Don't pull that stuff with me."
"Alright."
Samuel gritted his teeth and shrank his head back.
Although fearful, he still said firmly, "Um, didn't you say before that you would hit me once every three days? Now... it's been seven days..."
Hong Fei was naturally extremely surprised to hear this.
He put down the computer in his hand and looked at Samuel with a rather strange gaze.
He understood the subtext of Samuel's words. You haven't hit me in seven days; have you already made up your mind to kill me?
Must say, this Big Head is actually quite smart.
Master Hong never disappoints anyone either.
Putting down the computer, Hong Fei loosened his fingers: "You know what I said. Does this mean you once eavesdropped on me talking to others?"
Then, there were the sounds of rattling and intermittent screams.
After arriving in Australia, Hong Fei rented a warehouse as usual and then holed up in the hotel with Samuel.
Samuel spent every day learning online, while Hong Fei spent every day practicing and deeply exploring how to use skill cards.
Finding no trace of super-powered individuals in London, he held no hope for Australia at all.
Exiling all criminals to an isolated island—what would that island become after many years?
That is the land beneath Hong Fei's feet.
A meme is a meme precisely because it contains a grain of truth within its falsehood.
Three days later, I received a sum of money. One transaction was for four billion; another, fifty million. Both were in U.S. Dollars. Comparing the two, I found the latter a bit less appealing. Fortunately, when I materialized the tank again, the rapidly increasing energy compensated for the shortfall. After notifying Australia to receive the goods, the plane headed straight for New York.
Sitting opposite each other, I suddenly said to Samuel, "I'm planning to get a plane."
Samuel looked up. "Sure. If you're going to be traveling internationally frequently in the future, that would indeed be more cost-effective than chartering planes. What do you want to buy? Boeing, Airbus, or Gulfstream?"
I curled my lips. "You don't seem to have heard me clearly."
Samuel was dazed at first, then recalled my words, and his expression suddenly changed drastically.
He put down the computer, more than a dozen lines furrowing his long forehead. "What do you mean?" he asked, his tone shocked.
"Literally." Boeing, Airbus, and Gulfstream were all good planes, but I didn't want them. It wasn't that I didn't want to spend money, but what I wanted, money couldn't buy. Samuel thought I wanted a passenger plane; in reality, what I wanted was a fighter jet. Moreover, the fighter jet I wanted had no export version, and S.H.I.E.L.D. probably wouldn't sell it.
Taking a step back wouldn't be impossible, but it seemed I couldn't even buy an export version. That being the case, the safest way was to focus my attention on a certain old guy.
At that moment, General Ross, far away in the military camp, sneezed violently. If I were more aggressive, I could also try to find that one-eyed man; maybe there would be other unexpected surprises. However, the other party was a veteran Agent, so I would have to discuss it carefully with Frank again before taking action.
With this thought, I suddenly felt that my plan didn't seem as difficult as I had imagined. I had thought I wouldn't know how to achieve my goal, but I never expected to feel troubled about choosing one path among the many broad avenues leading directly to the destination before my eyes. It's all my damned intelligence's fault for making the path so wide and numerous!
My phone dinged twice; the wealthy oil tycoon and the British sent strongly worded emails of criticism and inquiry. I glanced at them and directly blocked them.
Doing business with the same client once is enough; they aren't stupid either. Next time... I must change my approach!