After answering Natasha's call, Nick Fury's expression grew so grim it looked like rain could pour right off his face.
"Sir, what's wrong? What did Natasha say?" Coulson asked, stepping aside with a serious look.
"That damn kid's demanding twenty kilograms of vibranium as ransom," Fury growled. "If we don't deliver it within two hours, we'll be collecting Natasha and Barton's bodies instead."
"!!!" Coulson gasped.
"Twenty kilograms?! He's got the nerve to ask for that? That's two hundred million dollars' worth!"
"It's not about the money," Fury snapped. "It's about how he knew S.H.I.E.L.D. even has twenty kilograms of vibranium in reserve."
"You don't think… Natasha and the others leaked it?"
"Forget that now. Natasha and Barton are among S.H.I.E.L.D.'s finest. We can't afford to lose them."
He turned sharply. "Grab the vibranium. We're heading to Morgan Manor. I want to meet this kid myself—and find out who's really pulling his strings."
"Understood," Coulson said, nodding before rushing off to prepare.
An hour later, a military jeep rolled to a slow stop at the gates of Morgan Manor.
Nick Fury stepped out, clad in a black windbreaker and his signature eye patch. Behind him, Coulson—impeccably dressed in a suit—carried a heavy, reinforced safe.
"Mr. Morgan," Fury called out, arms spread wide in a show of theatrical confidence. "I'm here. Care to open the gate and let me in?"
Before the words fully left his mouth, a black-clad figure dropped from the sky and slammed a fist straight into Fury's face.
The blow knocked him out cold before he could react.
"I'm already here," said the figure, voice laced with dry sarcasm. "So why all the posing?"
It was 2B.
"You—!" Coulson lunged forward, fury flashing in his eyes at the sight of his director crumpled on the ground.
But before he could get another word out, 2B flicked her wrist—and struck him across the temple.
Coulson collapsed instantly.
"'You'? When you step onto my boss's territory, you follow his rules," 2B said coolly, dragging both unconscious agents toward the manor's villa. "No outsider enters with their eyes open unless the boss permits it."
If any S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had witnessed the scene, they'd have been stunned into silence. Nick Fury and Phil Coulson—two of the organization's highest-ranking, most respected operatives—were being hauled across the gravel like sacks of grain. The sheer indignity of it was almost surreal.
Five minutes later, the two men knelt on the marble floor of the manor's grand, opulent hall—still dazed, but very much awake.
"Loren Morgan," Fury said through gritted teeth, "is this how you treat your guests?"
"How despicable," Coulson added, rubbing his temple. "A sneak attack? Really?"
Nick Fury, who had just woken up from a coma a minute ago, felt a ball of anger burning in his chest.
He was the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.—what a noble position! How could he have suffered such humiliation?
Even generals in the military and the President himself would show him respect when they met him.
He wouldn't say he felt at home, but at least he'd always been treated with dignity.
But it would have been tolerable—if only the boy standing before him, barely eighteen years old, hadn't come out to "welcome" him.
Worse yet, the boy had even sent his men to knock them out. Was that what passed for hospitality?
This wasn't just rude—it was outright thuggish!
If his life weren't in someone else's hands, Fury would have unleashed his full strength without hesitation.
"Guest?" Loren sneered. "Do you have any misunderstanding about your identity?"
Hearing this, Loren smiled coldly, his face twisted with mockery.
He slowly rose from the sofa.
Suddenly, an inexplicable, terrifying aura radiated from him, sending chills down the spines of the four men kneeling on the ground.
They never imagined this eighteen-year-old could possess such overwhelming presence!
His gaze, his expression, his posture—everything about him was suffocatingly oppressive.
In an instant, the Loren before them seemed like a completely different person.
Just moments ago, he'd seemed cynical and carefree—but now, he resembled a monster crawling out of the abyss.
The way he looked at them was as if he wanted to devour them alive.
"Nick Fury," Loren said, his voice icy, "do you really think I'm just some clueless kid?
I never wanted any conflict with your S.H.I.E.L.D. After all, an organization that's been infiltrated by HYDRA for years without even realizing it isn't exactly worth mentioning in polite company.
To be blunt—you're nothing but trash. A bunch of useless fools not even worthy of my attention.
But you—this overconfident, self-important fool—somehow believe S.H.I.E.L.D. can control everything.
Fine. If you're so in control, then control something!
Yet you insist on meddling with me. Do you really think the Morgan family is easy to bully?"
Loren spoke in a chilling tone as he paced slowly in front of Nick Fury.
The moment he finished speaking, his right foot lashed out like lightning.
Fury shot backward as if he were a kite with a severed string, hurtling over ten meters before crashing into a stone pillar in the hall.
"Ugh… cough! Cough! Cough!!"
The impact sent blood surging to his throat, and he vomited violently, stars flashing before his eyes. He looked utterly wretched.
He never expected Loren to attack without warning. Fortunately, he'd been wearing a bulletproof vest—if not, he'd be dead.
What he didn't know was that Loren had used only 30% of his strength in that kick.
Had he struck with full power, not even a steel plate would have stopped him—let alone a vest—and Fury would have been reduced to a corpse.
"Master Loren," Coulson stammered, horrified that their leader had been struck so casually, "this is a misunderstanding! We never meant any harm. We were only conducting a routine investigation.
We've never considered you an enemy—and now that everything's been clarified, we'll never interfere with you again!"
"Oh? A 'routine investigation'?" Loren arched an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Coulson, you are S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Level 8 agent—you've certainly mastered the art of smooth talk.
Fine. I'll believe you—just this once. Consider this kick a lesson for your superior.
But if there's a next time… I won't hesitate to dismantle your entire organization.
You should know the Morgan family has that kind of power."
After delivering his warning, Loren's gaze shifted to the safe beside Coulson.
"It's time to hand over what I want," he said, extending his hand.
Coulson didn't dare hesitate. He quickly entered the password, opened the safe, and placed its contents reverently before Loren.
Inside lay the object of his desire—
Vibranium.
At last, Loren smiled.