Hong Fei personally escorted Sif to New York, ensuring she settled in comfortably. He arranged for Antonia to guide her on Earth, knowing an Asgardian would need help navigating modern customs—like the fact humans no longer wore iron armor as casual attire these days.
After leaving Sif with Antonia, Hong Fei headed to the airport to pick up Mei and Peter. Their home had miraculously survived both the fires of war and the tsunami that had ravaged the city. In the days following the disaster, New Yorkers flooded back into the city. Though ruins still littered the landscape, surviving at all felt like a stroke of luck.
Global aid poured in, preventing widespread homelessness. Donations from capitalists and ordinary citizens alike ensured no one had to worry about immediate survival. Naturally, Hong Fei contributed his share.
He offloaded ten crates of spoils from the British Museum on the black market at a discounted rate. London received proceeds from four crates, while New York got the proceeds from six. Though the unit count seemed small, the total amounted to tens of billions in U.S. dollars.
The spoils were undeniably valuable, and the black market dealers, surprisingly kind-hearted, didn't drive the prices too low. Word had it that Big Head was so moved during the deal that he nearly cried, even setting aside his rocket launcher to wipe away tears.
Of course, this money wasn't simply donated. Ensuring it reached those in need required careful handling. Hong Fei had already prepared the funds but hadn't distributed them yet. Since he was in New York, he decided to oversee the process personally and make additional arrangements.
Hong Fei wasn't the type to do good deeds purely out of altruism. Mei and Peter returned to their home, relieved to find it untouched. Peter watched the news with a somber expression, while Mei kept glancing at Hong Fei. Though she had been in a safe country, the reports of the Dragon King's role in the crisis left her worried. Hong Fei gently patted her hand, reassuring her everything was fine.
Half of New York lay in ruins. In such a somber atmosphere, neither Mei nor Peter felt inclined to do much else. Hong Fei soon got up to leave, reminding Peter not to neglect his studies before he departed. He then went to inspect his own property. Though the building hadn't collapsed, it had been scorched by fire.
The first floor had been a bookstore, and the upper floors were rented out. Looking up, one could see traces of explosions from the inside out. This was one of the rare times Master Hong had brought trouble upon himself.
The silver lining was that the building's distance from the coastline had saved lives. When the war began, the tenants had fled immediately, so there were no casualties—just property loss. Correspondingly, while New York's total casualty count remained high, it was much lower than it could have been, given the scale of destruction.
This was probably because it had only been a little over a year since the Battle of New York, and people's vigilance hadn't faded completely. Hong Fei examined the still-stable foundation, gave a few instructions to the subordinates stationed there, and then left. The house and land didn't matter much; what truly mattered was the Dragon Bone buried underground.
Rebuilding could wait. Right now, the Dragon Bone took priority. If retrieving it truly meant New York's destruction, then Hong Fei would find a way to evacuate the city first. Did you really think he'd abandon the Dragon Bone? Not a chance.
He was confident in his current strength and connections. Retrieving the Dragon Bone without causing widespread damage was well within his capabilities. Sorcerer Supreme Gu Yi, All-Father Odin, Dragon King Hong Fei—though his two-character nickname might lack a bit of gravitas, Master Hong was more than capable. By noon, he arrived at the Avengers' temporary base.
Avengers Tower had been a prime target for the Dark Elves, reduced to rubble during the war. The new base was an abandoned factory on the city's outskirts. After some cleanup, it was serviceable. As Hong Fei stepped inside, he bumped into Coulson, who was just heading out.
Coulson glanced up, startled at first, but his surprise quickly melted into a wide grin. He hurried over to greet him. Hong Fei took a step forward, smiling.
"Did you win the lottery or something?"
Coulson's grin faltered for a moment before he recovered.
"Mr. Hong, welcome."
Hong Fei nodded, eyeing the briefcase in Coulson's hand.
"Heading out?"
"I was planning to, but it's not urgent."
"Good. Take me inside. I want to see what everyone's up to."
"Should I notify them?"
"No, I'll surprise them."
Coulson didn't seem bothered; if anything, he looked relieved.
Hong Fei knew exactly why. His sudden decision to withdraw earlier had stirred up more than a little frustration. It wasn't just Hill and Coulson who were upset—the entire Avengers team and nearly half of S.H.I.E.L.D. had been furious. Why only half? Because the other half was HYDRA.
Their anger wasn't just about his attitude. More importantly, they didn't want the agreement between the Dragon King and the Avengers to fall apart. Sure, the Avengers feared him, but they also genuinely hoped he could help them become a cohesive team. Why would S.H.I.E.L.D. share that hope?
Simple: the Dragon King's strength and his subordinates' power. With the agreement in place, the Avengers served as a bridge to connect directly with him. While they couldn't command each other, it at least bolstered S.H.I.E.L.D.'s influence. In critical moments, it could even save lives.
That last point had already been proven. After the Dragon King's earth-shaking battle, they were even more drawn to the man who was arguably Earth's strongest. So much so that they now wished the Secretary of State would just hurry up and die.
As long as they could preserve the relationship between the Dragon King and the Avengers, losing one Secretary of State was a small price to pay. S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't the United States' S.H.I.E.L.D., as acting Director Maria Hill had publicly stated. HYDRA didn't care either way—they weren't the United States', but they'd happily make the entire country theirs.
After the war, the winds within S.H.I.E.L.D. shifted dramatically. The consensus was clear: the Dragon King must return. Anyone trying to stop it was an enemy, possibly even a hidden major villain.
And the most critical part of this matter was: was the Dragon King still willing to maintain the agreement, and did it still mean he was an Avenger?
Coulson saw Hong Fei's arrival as confirmation—the agreement still stood. The Dragon King's unannounced visit to check on the Avengers only reinforced that belief.
Everything else could wait. When faced with a being of Hong Fei's power, even urgent matters took a backseat. As they stepped into the temporary base, the noise hit them first—a chaotic hum of activity.
The ground floor of the abandoned factory had been transformed. Rows of desks stood packed together, each buried under stacks of documents. Agents from the defunct New York branch worked elbow-to-elbow, their movements brisk, voices overlapping.
Further in, the space grew more structured. Cubicles rose like islands of privacy—necessary for an intelligence operation, even a makeshift one. Soon, Coulson led Hong Fei to the Avengers' designated area.
No high-tech training facilities here. Just a cleared-out room, roughly two hundred square meters—a luxury under the circumstances. When the door swung open, only Luke Cage occupied the space, bare-chested as usual, idly lifting weights while the TV flickered in the background. The man really had a thing against shirts.
The clatter of the door made Luke glance over. At the sight of Hong Fei, the dumbbells nearly slipped from his grip. He opened his mouth—no doubt to alert the others—but Hong Fei raised a finger to his lips. Luke froze, then jerked his chin toward one of the glass-walled cubicles.
Inside, Matt lounged on a sofa, headphones on, fingers tracing the raised dots of a Braille book. Hong Fei arched a brow at Luke, who just grinned. For a second, he'd expected something... inappropriate. But Matt could only listen, right? Unless he had a vivid imagination. Shaking off the thought, Hong Fei moved on.
Rhodes was next—a surprise. With Hill's declaration of independence, Hong Fei assumed the military would've recalled him. Instead, the man scowled at a screen, absorbed in some New York after-action report. Nearby, Barton grinned into a video call, his family's laughter tinny through the speakers.
Banner stared blankly ahead, lost in thought—or maybe just spacing out. Tony tinkered with a holographic armor design. Anti-Xu Wenwu modifications? Hard to say. Steve sat motionless on a couch, a pocket watch open in his palm, his gaze fixed on Peggy Carter's photograph.
Superheroes, yes. But strip away the symbols, the legends, and they were just people. Flawed, distracted, wistful. Human.
Seeing this side of the Avengers, Hong Fei suddenly wanted to check on his own nine—see how they were when no one was watching. It'd been too long since he'd really talked with them. He hoped they didn't feel distant from their dear boss. Master Hong would be heartbroken if they did.
After making the rounds, he returned to the main hall.
Luke Cage finished packing his belongings and switched off the television. He shrugged into a gray short-sleeved shirt that clung to his muscular frame, every movement precise—hands clasped behind his back, chest forward, chin up, core taut. The disciplined stance betrayed his background; not military, but prison-hardened.
Hong Fei glanced at Coulson, who moved without hesitation to the wall and pressed a crimson button. Alarms blared through the complex. The sudden clamor sent agents scrambling from their workstations—Steve emerged first, then Barton, Matt close behind, Rhodes on their heels, with Banner and Tony bringing up the rear.
When they pushed open the doors and saw Hong Fei standing in the living room with that placid smile, no one rushed forward in relief. The air thickened with unease. Only Tony looked genuinely confused, oblivious to what the others had endured under Hong Fei's command. His teammates' stiff postures and guarded expressions told a story he hadn't yet read.