Chapter Twenty-Three: The Invitation from S.H.I.E.L.D.

Thor raised Mjolnir high and summoned a bolt of lightning that crashed violently down upon the Destroyer. That indomitable being was shattered into fragments beneath the storm. Thor saluted Uncle Ben with the gesture of a warrior, then beckoned Sif and the Warriors Three to follow him across the Bifrost, returning to Asgard.

“Don’t forget your promise!” Yang Xin pulled Sif aside and whispered a forceful reminder in her ear.

“Asgardians never break their word,” Sif replied, vanishing into the rainbow light.

“Director, did you find this farce amusing?” Yang Xin turned to look at Nick Fury, who had already dismissed his Susanoo and stood there looking as cold and intimidating as ever.

Nick Fury said nothing. He simply stared at the place where the rainbow had faded and raised his middle finger with a sneer, spitting fiercely on the ground. “Arrogance is an original sin!”

“For once, I agree with you. Arrogance truly is an original sin—but more than that, it’s a sickness, and it needs to be cured!” Yang Xin's own anger was simmering.

What a fine situation: Thor comes to Earth, we treat him with the utmost hospitality, and what do we get in return? Not so much as a glance, no farewell, not even a token of thanks. Even the most hypocritical man would at least nod or utter a word of gratitude…

“He may have lived over a thousand years, but he’s still a child,” Uncle Ben said, shaking his head and forcing himself to offer an excuse for Thor.

“Bratty children are all the more dangerous, because they don’t know what can or cannot be done! There’s only one way to deal with such a brat—beat him! Beat him so thoroughly his own parents wouldn’t recognize him,” Yang Xin spat with force.

“You’re saying he’ll come back to Earth?” Fury caught the deeper meaning in Yang Xin’s words.

“Of course. When the God of Thunder returns, true interstellar war will follow. And real interstellar war is nothing like today’s petty skirmish. I hope you’re prepared,” Yang Xin said gravely.

At the same time, his mind was racing with thoughts of how to strengthen his own power and survive the Chitauri invasion. After much consideration, it seemed his best option was to cling tightly to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s support.

“It’s time to set that plan in motion,” Fury muttered, just loud enough for himself to hear.

“Mr. Yang Xin, would you be interested in joining S.H.I.E.L.D. and helping me assemble a special team?” Nick Fury formally extended his invitation.

“What position? What rank?”

“Special Advisor. Level Nine Agent.”

“Oh? Granting me such authority? That’s second only to you—Coulson is only Level Seven.” Yang Xin was surprised; a Level Nine Agent was second only to the Director himself, truly a position above all others.

“Because you’re worth it. Though you’ll hold the title of Level Nine Agent, you won’t have all the corresponding powers. I intend for you to lead a special team—Coulson, Natasha, Hawkeye, Captain America, and Hill will be your direct subordinates,” Fury announced solemnly.

“And the advisor title?”

“This team is unique; it will bring together some of the strongest people. I need you to coordinate them, which is why you’re being made an advisor.”

Yang Xin nodded in understanding. Since his arrival in this world, he had continuously offered treasures up the ladder. The Avengers were now far stronger than in the original story; the initial team had only Hawkeye and Natasha as agents, and they weren’t particularly powerful. Now, with Hill and Coulson added, the proportion of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had greatly increased, allowing them to stand toe-to-toe with the other Avengers.

At this point, a binding agent was needed, and Yang Xin was just the man for the role. He was perfectly satisfied with the position—Special Advisor meant he could offer suggestions without bearing responsibility; Level Nine Agent, though lacking real power, carried high status, empowering him to command Coulson and the others without risking his own neck on the front lines.

How perfect!

Yang Xin gladly accepted.

“What about compensation?” Yang Xin stretched out his hand.

“A standard cache of weapons and equipment,” Fury replied without hesitation.

“Another batch of nearly obsolete World War II relics?” Yang Xin rolled his eyes.

“With such a quantity, do you think I could hand out state-of-the-art gear?” Fury retorted impatiently.

“That’s for a month’s work?”

“A year! One year! Serve S.H.I.E.L.D. for a full year and that’s your reward. In addition, you’ll receive a special monthly living allowance of a hundred thousand dollars.”

“That’s reasonable. But that’s just my regular compensation. If you want to purchase any special treasures from me, the price is separate.”

Fury blinked, then nodded. “For now, stay at the Manhattan villa. There’s no need to report to S.H.I.E.L.D. just yet.”

“With your resources, you still haven’t finished dealing with them?” Yang Xin gestured at the letters spelling ‘HYDRA’.

“The roots run deep. Careful screening is required.”

“Time waits for no one. Don’t you have a time ship? Let Melinda pilot it, set the timeline, and audit the agents in the key departments one by one,” Yang Xin asked, puzzled.

“Activating the time ship requires energy, and the only power source we’ve confirmed it uses is electricity. Conventional energy systems can’t meet its needs. So now, I have a task for you,” Fury suddenly said.

“What task?” Yang Xin felt an ominous premonition.

“Go to Tony Stark and purchase an Arc Reactor. Preferably, obtain the blueprints and manufacturing process as well.”

“You think Tony Stark is a fool? How could he possibly sell such core technology?” Yang Xin’s eyes widened.

“He wouldn’t sell it to just anyone. But you—Tony might consider giving it to you,” Fury replied, his face impassive, his words loaded with meaning.

Yang Xin was also curious about what the Treasure System would generate when he met Tony Stark. Besides, he was contemplating whether he could acquire a suit of Iron Man armor from Stark. Therefore, he nodded in agreement, accepting the task, and held up a finger. “A standard load of weapons and equipment, plus half an Asgardian warship.”

Fury nodded in satisfaction. This had been his plan all along—to exchange Yang Xin’s treasures for the Arc Reactor and its manufacturing technology. As for the Asgardian warship, whether Sif would keep her promise remained to be seen.

Even with an interstellar warship, a crew would be needed to operate it. How could a solitary man like Yang Xin make use of so many ships? Whoever manned them could only be drawn from S.H.I.E.L.D.—who else? In name, they would belong to Yang Xin, but in practice, they would be S.H.I.E.L.D.’s.

So Fury agreed readily.

But Yang Xin thought differently. With Asgard’s advanced civilization, surely they had automated piloting functions. In interstellar warfare, automation might be clumsy, but outside of battle, or in a world not yet capable of interstellar travel, such ships would be divine artifacts—unbeatable weapons.

After reaching an agreement with Fury, Yang Xin set off with Natasha and Hill, heading straight to Stark Industries, eager to meet the legendary egomaniac in person.