Lucas took the small earpiece from the box and placed it behind his ear. Almost immediately, Nick Fury's deep, gravelly voice came through.
At the same time, Coulson pulled a small cube from his coat and placed it on the counter.
"Mr. Norman, this is Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I assume you've heard of me."
"Oh, wow~~ the world-famous director himself," Lucas replied lazily. "Who hasn't?"
The cube flickered, projecting the shiny bald head and single stern eye of Nick Fury in holographic form.
"Mr. Norman," Fury began, "I want to know—how do you truly view this world?"
"How do I view it?" Lucas smirked. "With my eyes, obviously."
He couldn't help it—this guy always had to play mysterious, acting like he knew every secret under the sun.
What a joke. Lucas knew perfectly well S.H.I.E.L.D. was basically HYDRA wearing sunglasses. And Fury still wanted to act cryptic? Please.
Fury's expression darkened instantly.
"I'm not joking, Mr. Norman. The Earth we live on is just a speck of dust in a vast universe filled with countless threats."
"So what's your point?" Lucas asked flatly.
"I'm inviting you to join us," Fury said. "Or rather—to join me."
"'Us?'" Lucas raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room. Then it clicked—Fury meant Peter and Gwen.
"Forget it," Lucas said, leaning back in his chair. "I have no interest in joining S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm not exactly the type who likes being on a leash."
He rejected the offer without hesitation.
Work under Fury? Not a chance. Nothing beat being your own boss.
And besides, Lucas knew exactly what kind of organization S.H.I.E.L.D. really was.
Fury opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, Gwen cut him off sharply:
"I'm with him."
Fury wasn't surprised. He already knew who Gwen and Peter were—their identities were in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s restricted archives, viewable only by him.
Peter scratched his head. "Uh… I don't really know what's going on here, but, uh, I'm still a high school student, so… yeah, hard pass."
Fury didn't press the issue. He'd half expected this outcome anyway. For now, he couldn't afford to expose his real plan.
Lucas, however, saw right through him.
The Avengers Initiative, of course—Fury's pet project. A team supposedly independent from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the World Security Council, but in reality, micromanaged by both.
They'd use you, chain you, and stab you in the back the second you disagreed. Typical politics—filthy, hypocritical, and manipulative.
"Mr. Norman," Fury said calmly, "I sincerely hope we don't become enemies. Please, reconsider my offer."
Lucas waved a hand dismissively. "No need to talk about joining S.H.I.E.L.D. again. I'm not interested."
He paused, grinning slightly. "But… there is one thing."
At that, Coulson perked up a little, while Fury kept his stoic poker face.
"I happen to run a business now," Lucas said, voice playful. "The Devil May Cry agency accepts any supernatural contracts. If S.H.I.E.L.D. ever needs help, you can always hire me. Price is negotiable~~"
He rubbed his hands together with a greedy grin. After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. was loaded. They had U.N. funding, Fury's secret budgets, and god knows what else. Lucas wouldn't be surprised if Fury had a few million tucked away in his personal account.
Fury's expression turned even darker. Somehow, he'd failed to notice before that this powerful sorcerer was also an incorrigible money-grubber.
"…Very well," Fury said finally. "Then our conversation is over. I hope we can work together in the future, Mr. Norman."
The hologram blinked out.
Lucas handed the earpiece back to Coulson. "Here—oh, and this is my business card. If you guys ever need something done, contact me. Like I said, price is always negotiable."
Coulson accepted the card, slipping it into his jacket pocket before standing up to leave.
But when he reached the door, he hesitated and turned back.
"Uh… this might sound a bit rude, but… could I maybe take one of those chestnut parfaits to go?"
He looked genuinely embarrassed—but the craving was written all over his face.
"No problem!" Lucas said cheerfully, pulling five parfaits from the fridge, along with a few servings of Soft Slime Pudding and Princess Custard for good measure.
Coulson's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. He thanked Lucas, then jotted down his personal phone number and handed it over before leaving.
It seemed he'd already decided Lucas was a friend, not just a potential ally.
Lucas actually respected Coulson quite a bit—professional, calm under pressure, kind yet pragmatic. The kind of guy you could trust in a crisis… and have a drink with afterward.
Once Coulson was gone, Lucas didn't even bother acknowledging the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents still covertly watching the building.
Let them try—thanks to Skye's upgrades, the entire apartment was a digital fortress.
Every single external signal passed through her filters; if she pressed just one key, every bug, camera, or drone within range would instantly fry.
That paranoia was Natasha's fault. The last incident had given Skye a wake-up call, and she'd overhauled their entire network security afterward. Now, even S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best surveillance tech was just expensive scrap metal inside their walls.
"Phew~ finally! That guy's presence was suffocating," Peter groaned, yanking off his mask. Sweat dotted his forehead.
He was still just a kid—no matter how brave, facing government agents made him anxious.
Gwen, on the other hand, seemed much calmer. She trusted Lucas completely; as long as he was there, no one could hurt them.
"Alright," Lucas said with a grin. "Crisis averted. And Peter—you were smart not to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Let me tell you something about those guys…"
He leaned forward, sharing just enough dirt to make Peter's jaw drop.
"Whoa, seriously? That bad?" Peter gasped.
Lucas nodded. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been infiltrated by a terrorist organization. They don't even know it yet—they're still patting themselves on the back."
Peter shuddered. "Good thing I didn't join them! But… Lucas, shouldn't we tell them? Coulson seems like a decent guy."
Lucas shook his head. "Not yet. We'll tell them when the time's right—after I've wrung a nice fat paycheck out of them first."
Peter just stared, mouth hanging open. He'd known Lucas for a long time, but somehow he'd never realized just how greedy the guy was.
"Oh, right," Lucas said suddenly, snapping his fingers. "You two interested in joining my Devil May Cry office? There are benefits~~"
"Benefits?" Peter and Gwen asked in unison.
Lucas grinned mysteriously. "You'll find out soon enough…"
In truth, there were no benefits—unless you counted the chance to pet a moogle.
Seeing his evasive smile, Gwen rolled her eyes. It was obvious he was bluffing again.
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