He kicked off his mud-stained, ridiculously expensive custom leather shoes with no elegance whatsoever.
That island was his now.
But William didn't feel excited.
He knew S.H.I.E.L.D.'s modus operandi all too well.
Old fox Nick Fury never made a losing deal.
Him giving away an island meant William was about to take on a problem even hotter than that island.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
The sender was a string of garbled characters, typical S.H.I.E.L.D. style.
He opened the email; the attachment was an encrypted file package.
Download, unzip.
A folder named "Asset Assessment - EB" appeared on the screen.
He had a bad feeling, like the premonition before a lottery drawing that his ticket was destined to be a waste of paper.
He clicked open the folder.
Inside, there was only one PDF file.
On the cover was a blurry surveillance screenshot.
A burly, veiny green monster, with skin as rough as rock and sharp bones protruding from its body, was chained to a wall with thick metal shackles.
"Emil Blonsky."
Alias: Abomination.
William's phone almost slipped.
He thought Coulson would at most give him a super-powered individual with a bad temper, or a scientist whose experiment had gone wrong.
He never expected that these damned S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would treat Hulk's number one rival—
—the completely out-of-control monster with only destructive instincts, Abomination—as a "personnel issue" and dump him on him!
"To hell with your 'special asset'!"
William cursed under his breath.
"This is a biochemical weapon! And an uncontrolled nuclear bomb with a built-in building demolition function!"
He continued to scroll down through the data.
Asset Status:
Extremely unstable emotionally, highly aggressive.
Severe intellectual degradation, only basic instincts remain.
Refuses all forms of communication, shows strong resistance to all physical and psychological intervention methods.
Currently under multiple restraints and deep sedation.
Risk Assessment:
Extremely high.
The asset is considered one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest-level security threats.
His unparalleled strength, speed, and astonishing regenerative abilities all pose a destructive risk.
Intervention Goal:
Establish initial communication channels, assess the recoverability of his mental state, and attempt to revitalize his potential as a positive asset.
When William saw the words "revitalize," he almost laughed out loud in anger.
Revitalize?
How to revitalize him?
Give him a gym membership and have him teach weightlifting?
Or convince him to be a model worker in a demolition crew?
Every word in this document reeked of the shameless message: "We can't handle it, you deal with it, and if you mess up, you take the blame."
Coulson, you thick-browed old fox!
William threw his phone onto the sofa, irritably running his hand through his hair.
Sell insurance to Abomination?
The risk factor of this deal was no longer just high; it had directly broken through the atmosphere...
In a Loft apartment in Brooklyn.
The air was filled with the aroma of cheap cheese and ketchup.
Tandy shoved the last piece of frozen pizza into her mouth and mumbled to Tyrone, who was sitting opposite her:
"I told you this pizza must be a clearance item about to expire; it tastes weird."
Tyrone didn't speak, just sipped his milk in small mouthfuls.
The pizza box in front of him was already empty.
For a teenager who had long gone hungry, frozen pizza was a rare delicacy.
After eating, Tandy started pacing around the apartment again, like a trapped beast unable to settle.
Her gaze finally landed on the inconspicuous router, whose green light was blinking.
She grumbled about the Wi-Fi password, her face filled with disdain.
"Risk Management 888? How narcissistic is this guy? And why three eights? Does he think he's running a casino and loan sharking?"
She took out her old phone with the cracked screen and connected to the Wi-Fi.
Full signal.
She habitually clicked on an underground forum, a place where she used to get information and fence stolen goods.
When she entered the URL and pressed Enter, however, what popped up on the screen was not the familiar forum interface, but a warning page.
"Warning: The website you are attempting to access poses a serious security risk and has been intercepted by the 'Rodriguez Risk Management Network Protocol.'"
Below it was another line of small text: "Young people, please pay attention to your personal safety when surfing the internet. —A warm reminder from your boss."
"..."
Tandy's face was as black as a pot bottom.
She didn't believe it and tried a few similar websites.
The results were without exception: all were blocked by this damned "Rodriguez Risk Management Network Protocol."
"Bastard!"
She threw her phone onto the sofa in a fit of pique.
"He's monitoring our network!"
Tyrone looked up from the dark corner, his voice very soft: "He just... doesn't want us to go back to the past."
"Go back to the past? What past do we have? Isn't it just stealing things to fill our stomachs?"
Tandy's tone became sharp, as if she was defending herself.
"Otherwise? Wait to starve on the streets? Or wait for 'kind people' in suits like him to give us charity?"
Tyrone fell silent.
The shadow on him seemed to fluctuate slightly.
He knew Tandy didn't mean what she said.
Those days of stealing, running, and hiding, every day was like walking on a tightrope.
After venting, Tandy slumped onto the sofa as well.
She looked at the warning page, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
Being monitored felt terrible, but... that "warm reminder" also gave her a novel, absurd feeling of being disciplined.
Like a rebellious child caught by their parents for the first time sneaking into an internet cafe...
William paced back and forth in the apartment, like an ant on a hot griddle.
He forced himself to calm down and analyze the desperate situation before him.
Client: Abomination.
Client characteristics: Over-the-top combat power, negative mental state, zero communication ability, passive skill of "leveling a block if things don't go his way."
Sales challenge: How to deliver an opening speech without being slapped into a pulp by the other party.
William walked to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a large glass of whiskey, and gulped it down.
This business, from any angle, was a death deal.
But... that island.
A private, legal, secluded island.
A perfect Base, an anchor point that would allow him to truly develop himself and establish a foothold in this dangerous World.
Coulson's bait had bitten precisely on his soft spot.
"No pain, no gain; insurance sells heads."
Suddenly, this nonsensical phrase, he didn't know where he had heard it, popped into his head.
He picked up his phone and reopened Abomination's file, his gaze fixed on the photo.
There was no unsellable insurance in this World, only salesmen who weren't trying hard enough.
He took a deep breath and dialed Coulson's number.
"Rodriguez Consultant, got an idea so quickly?"
On the other end of the line, Coulson's tone remained steady.
"Not an idea, but I do have a demand."
William's voice was devoid of emotion.
"I want to see him. But not at any of your S.H.I.E.L.D. Bases."
"Oh?"
"Send him to my place."
William looked out at the Manhattan nightscape, enunciating each word.
"Send him to my island."
-------------------------------
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