For Pierce, witnessing space teleportation and body immobilization made him realize that mind control magic might not be impossible either.
To make matters worse, William was effortlessly wielding the Tesseract—a cosmic artifact S.H.I.E.L.D. had spent decades researching without figuring out how to control. This confirmed that William's mastery of magic was on a terrifying level.
"Are you hoping the gunshot will bring your men rushing in?"
William sat comfortably on the sofa, sipping his whiskey, a smile on his face. "Sorry, but everything that just happened could only be seen and heard by the two of us. So..."
He gestured toward the growing pool of blood on the floor and warned, "Don't forget, the bullet passed clean through your lower back. You've got two bleeding wounds. If you don't take care of them soon..."
William glanced at his watch. "In about a minute, you'll start feeling cold. In five minutes, dizziness and confusion will kick in. Ten minutes later... well, I won't need to negotiate with you anymore. And I might even thank you—dead men keep secrets the best."
"Shit!"
With no other option, Pierce grabbed the jade talisman from the floor and snapped it in half.
A green glow burst from the talisman, entering his chest and spreading across his body. His wounds began to heal visibly, the torn flesh knitting itself back together in seconds.
"You'd better stand up or lie flat," William advised. "Otherwise, the muscles and skin might not heal properly if they're compressed from sitting."
Pierce quickly gripped the edge of his desk and stood up. Within five seconds, both entry and exit wounds had fully healed. He pressed on his abdomen, even pushing his hand in deeply, but felt no internal pain. Everything was completely restored.
"Thirty million dollars for one of these?"
Pierce, now recovered, forced a calm demeanor. Despite his frustration, he gave a polite nod and walked into the adjacent room to change clothes.
After ten minutes, he returned, wearing a fresh suit. He sat on the sofa across from William, poured himself half a glass of Macallan whiskey, and drank half of it in one gulp. Letting the alcohol linger on his tongue for a moment, he exhaled deeply and muttered, "It's good to be alive."
"Ha! Cheers to that!" William chuckled, raising his glass in a toast.
Pierce shook his head in resignation, took another sip of whiskey, and then asked, "So... was that really thirty million per talisman?"
William didn't answer directly but instead smiled and asked, "Do you think it's not worth the price?"
"For us, of course, it's worth it. But for our combat teams, thirty million per piece is too steep," Pierce replied after a moment's thought. "At that price, only level nine or ten agents in S.H.I.E.L.D. could qualify for one. If we issued them to regular combat units, their annual budget would be drained in less than a month."
William tapped his temple, prompting his AI, Sunday, to provide relevant data. The AI quickly summarized the situation for him.
"Close to a thousand injuries annually, over a hundred deaths last year... No wonder your Hydra faction has infiltrated the combat units so thoroughly. Most of the surviving veteran field agents probably belong to your side by now."
"Is that so surprising?" Pierce replied casually, unfazed by the implied accusation. "Losing rookies every year is perfectly normal. The real rarity—and tragedy—is when no one dies. If casualties decrease, the bureaucrats sitting in their offices will see it as an excuse to slash our already insufficient funding."
He took another sip of whiskey before continuing. "Only those who've truly faced life and death can transform into elite agents. After a few near-death experiences, rookies often go through a phase of disillusionment where their youthful idealism fades. That's when they become easiest to recruit."
"Alright, enough," William interrupted, tapping his glass. "The dead aren't my problem, and S.H.I.E.L.D. has nothing to do with me. So, don't try to play the sympathy card. Even if I lowered the price of the talisman to three million, the World Security Council still wouldn't approve its distribution to combat personnel."
William then produced another healing talisman and tossed it to Pierce. "You think this is simple to make? It's not. The crafting process is incredibly difficult, and the materials are becoming scarcer."
"What's so difficult about it?" Pierce frowned. "Even if jade mines are depleting, there's still plenty of previously mined stock."
"Sorry, but maybe you should have that talisman analyzed. You'll find that it's not made of Earth materials—it's extraterrestrial."
"Extraterrestrial?"
Pierce stood up abruptly, moving to the floor-to-ceiling window. He held the talisman up to the sunlight and observed the faint green glow within the milky-white jade, which shimmered and flowed like liquid.
"How about this," William said casually. "Five of these talismans per year as payment for the Tesseract. Deal?"
Pierce, who had been mesmerized by the talisman, froze in disbelief. He slowly turned to face William, his hand trembling as he pointed.
"William Devonshire... you are the most shameless man I've ever met!"
"Come on, old man. Shameless? This is a treasure that can save your life five times a year! Even if you don't need all of them yourself, you could give them away as incredible favors. Imagine the gratitude you'd earn. You've experienced it yourself—being brought back from the brink of death is a profound blessing."
Pierce sighed and sat back down, raising his glass. "So... should I thank you for shooting me and giving me a new perspective on life?"
"No need for that," William said, grinning. "In fact, I should probably apologize. I swear, it was just an accident."
"Accident, my ass," Pierce growled, barely holding back his anger. "Don't forget, no matter how precious this thing is, it still has a price. Thirty million per talisman... five per year is just $150 million. Over ten years, that's only $1.5 billion."
Pierce narrowed his eyes. "Calling you shameless doesn't even begin to cover it. Maybe we should start referring to you as—"
"Shut up."
Pierce's words died in his throat as William glared at him. Swallowing his frustration, he slumped slightly, fully aware of the power imbalance between them.
At that moment, Pierce finally understood the harsh reality: when someone possesses enough personal strength, they can do as they please.
(End of Chapter)
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