Chapter 33: Classified as 084

The television station’s copywriters quickly went online to search for information, and soon enough, they found the answer. “Staged collision” refers generally to opportunistic tricks or acts of extortion, such as deliberately colliding with vehicles to blackmail the other party.

The female reporter pressed her earpiece, as if receiving instructions, and asked Luke, “Excuse me, Mr. Apostle, are you Chinese?”

Luke looked surprised. “Why do you ask?”

“Because, as far as I know, the term ‘staged collision’ originally comes from a Chinese expression. Are you Chinese?” The reporter keenly seized the crux of the matter and pressed him further.

Luke thought to himself, “Guarding against fire, theft, and reporters—how true it is…”

He replied, “I’m a true New Yorker.”

“An American?” the reporter asked.

Luke shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it.

He hadn’t admitted to being American, merely acknowledged being from New York, residing in Queens. Of course, that last part he couldn’t reveal.

The reporter pondered a moment and then asked, “Just now, you mentioned ‘unprofessional staged collision behavior.’ You described the French Air Force as unprofessional. How would you explain that statement?”

“Unprofessional is unprofessional; there’s nothing more to say. In this area, I consider myself the real professional,” Luke answered, glancing meaningfully at Tony.

Tony was so furious he nearly spat blood on the spot…

He thought, “I should never have touched this guy’s foot!”

No, it wasn’t touching—it was pulling!!

At this moment, sitting inside his mech, Luke received a system prompt: “Mission objective achieved. Mission complete!” Luke couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy.

So he said to the reporter, “Miss, is there anything else? If not, I’ll be going. I’ll have my assistant email your station the video evidence. I’m very busy—time is worth hundreds of millions every minute.”

Luke quietly added to himself: Vietnamese dong.

“Uh, yes, of course… Thank you for the interview,” the reporter replied, breaking into a sweat.

Amidst the cameras, the silver mech took off in a dazzling display, then accelerated away with equal flair.

Tony didn’t try to stop Luke from leaving this time. He stood there, his face dark, lost in thought.

Moments later, as crowds of reporters swarmed toward him, Tony lowered his armor’s faceplate, put his palms downwards, and, without another word, shot into the sky.

…

S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters.

Location: Classified.

Outside the Director’s office, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, knocked and entered.

The office was starkly furnished: a single desk and chair, with nowhere else to sit. The air conditioning was set low.

Nick Fury, always clad in his signature black trench coat, sat behind the desk. Once a legend in his own right, the African-American director, now orchestrating things from behind the scenes, had enjoyed his own glorious days.

He had borne many titles: King of Spies, the One-Eyed Man, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., the Wall Watcher, the Watcher, and so on.

But, alas, fortune treats all differently. Now, everyone just called him “Egghead”…

Natasha glanced at Egghead but said nothing. He picked up a tablet, set it on the desk, and pushed it toward her. “Take a look at this,” he said in a low voice.

Natasha picked up the tablet and hit play. On the screen was the recent French TV interview with Luke.

There were also several clips from different cameras capturing Luke’s battle with Tony on the French highway.

When she finished watching, her crimson lips parted in mild surprise. She’d been busy lately, with no time to follow the news. Only now did she realize so much had happened.

“I recall you said the two of them know each other?” Egghead asked.

“I don’t understand why they’d get into a fight,” Natasha shrugged, returning the tablet.

Egghead considered for a moment, his lone eye fixed on Natasha. “Your assessment of this individual is…?”

“Very dangerous,” she replied.

Coincidentally, the assessment Natasha made after returning that day matched Luke’s own evaluation of her. Luke thought this woman was too dangerous and wanted to stay far away.

After returning, Natasha had written in her report: This individual is extremely dangerous! Motives unclear, actions reckless. Recommend classifying as a high-priority surveillance target.

She hadn’t expected that in just a few days, he’d show up in Monaco and cause such a commotion.

And in broad daylight, before countless cameras, he’d fought Iron Man.

He’d even shot down a French Dassault Rafale…

Natasha found herself at a loss for words to describe him. Reckless? That hardly sufficed. He was utterly lawless…

“I’d very much like to know what kind of powerful background this person has,” Egghead said gravely. “I don’t believe a small-time group could build such a war machine. Not everyone is Tony Stark. ‘I am Iron Man’? Hmph. One Iron Man is enough. Do you have any leads on this person’s identity?”

Natasha furrowed her brows, then seemed to recall something. She looked at Egghead and said, “He said something once. It might be a clue.”

“What did he say?”

Natasha’s expression grew odd. “He said he made Tony Stark’s lunch…”

Egghead was taken aback. “What does that mean?”

Natasha shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s exactly what it sounds like.”

…

The two fell silent.

After a while, Egghead nodded. “It seems we’ll have to start with Tony’s circle. I’m assigning this task to you. Go undercover at Stark’s and get to the bottom of this.” With that, he tossed over a folder.

Natasha picked it up, skimmed through it, and frowned. “You want me to be Stark’s secretary?”

“Yes. In fact, I’ve been planning this for a while. Now’s the perfect time to investigate this individual as well.”

Natasha sighed. “All right.”

She took the folder and left Egghead’s office.

The wheels of fate rolled onward—Natasha would indeed go undercover as Stark’s assistant.

After she left, Egghead focused on another file before him, frowning as he reviewed it. It was a compilation of all known information about the silver mech.

“Monarch of Hebron? The Chosen One?”

After a long while, Egghead, still baffled, closed the file.

On the cover, the designation 084 was clearly marked.

He stood and locked the file in a heavy safe behind his desk.

084 was a code, a classification. It denoted S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most secret files, accessible only to the director and a handful of others with the highest clearance.

084 referred to objects of unknown origin, sometimes even S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn’t determine what they were. This category included objects, energies, even people.

Originally, 084 was simply the number assigned to a particular item: the Inhuman Terrigen Obelisk.

Later, the meaning of 084 expanded. The first person classified as 084 was named Skye.

After that, the Cosmic Cube and Thor’s hammer were also classified as 084s.

Luke had no idea he’d been designated as an 084 by S.H.I.E.L.D., now considered “highly dangerous, requiring vigilance and monitoring.”

Even if he knew, Luke wouldn’t be surprised.

He was always stirring up trouble—coming under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s scrutiny was inevitable. As long as he kept pushing the limits, it was only a matter of time before he faced them.

But Luke wasn’t worried about them uncovering his identity.

By the time S.H.I.E.L.D. found him, he’d probably have finished building his G-0 War Lord.

It took Luke less than two hours to fly from France back to New York.

Now, in his secret warehouse, he was happily admiring the rewards from his latest mission.

A Mechanic Skill Selection Box!

No nasty surprises this time. The box was filled with advanced mechanic skills—everything except the ultimate awakening skills, for both male and female mechanics.

Overjoyed, Luke decided to spare a certain octopus this time.

Poor Lotus would never know how narrowly it escaped the oven.