Peter, on the other end of the phone, was clearly bewildered by the sudden "job offer."
"Part-time… Field Consultant?"
The young man's voice was filled with disbelief.
"I… I was planning to go to a newspaper, be a part-time photographer…"
"That's a good plan, Peter. It's very meaningful for you to record the city's light and shadow with your camera."
William's tone was relaxed.
"But meaning doesn't pay the bills, right?"
"Think about it, how many rolls of film could a newspaper intern's salary buy you? Or would it even cover the cleaning fee for your tights?"
"Don't you want to help out at home and ease the burden on your Uncle Ben and Aunt May?"
"Our salaries are high, and you don't have to worry about your identity being exposed. Because your direct superior, which is me, is even more afraid of exposure than you."
William's voice was full of temptation.
"How about it? Think about it? No rush, our company's department… well, it's still quite understaffed. This job opportunity is valid long-term."
"I… I need to think about it."
Peter's voice sounded flustered.
He hurriedly said "goodbye" and hung up the phone.
William put down his phone and let out a long sigh of relief.
He felt as if he had just finished a three-hour debate.
Dealing with a teenage superhero was much harder than dealing with a drunk billionaire.
He glanced again at the two terrifying craters on the helipad.
Who should bear the cost of this?
Tony Stark?
Or should it be considered a necessary expense for the company to entertain high-profile clients?
Or, why not simply insure this helipad under his company with a "Special Aircraft Accidental Landing Damage Insurance"?
He was pondering whether this "empty-handed" business was feasible.
Just then, a figure quietly appeared behind him.
He was like a ghost merged with the shadows.
"Boss, you've been very busy tonight."
Emil Blonsky stated the fact.
He was wearing a fitted gray tracksuit.
His blonde hair was meticulously styled.
His blue eyes were like cold probes.
They swept over the mess on the helipad, finally resting on William's back.
William turned around, a wry smile on his face:
"More than busy, it's been spectacular. I just saw off two clients who like to drive their aircraft like bumper cars."
He scrutinized Emil before him.
There was a special, well-honed dangerous aura about this man.
Even though he was in human form now, the inherent ferocity of the Abomination, hidden deep within his bones, was like a dormant volcano ready to erupt at any moment.
This made it impossible to relax even slightly.
But William knew that the person standing before him at this moment was more of the former elite British Royal Marine.
He was a top tactical expert.
"It seems you're adapting well to your new life."
William said casually.
Emil didn't take up the topic.
His gaze sharply scanned the isolated island shrouded in night.
He also looked at the deep, bottomless East River water surrounding the island.
"This place is a perfect cage."
He spoke slowly, his voice low and powerful.
William raised an eyebrow, still not understanding what he wanted to say.
"It's very secluded, isolated from the outside."
Emil's gaze shifted from the distant lights of Manhattan back to the island beneath his feet.
"But it's also a perfect trap."
"A trap?"
William's brows furrowed deeper; the word made his heart tighten.
"Yes, a trap."
Emil turned and looked directly at William.
"I've studied the island's structural map. There are only two entrances and exits — the dock on the sea, and the helipad in the sky. Once the dock is blockaded and the air is suppressed by firepower, this place becomes a dead prison where no help can be called."
He accurately dissected the fatal flaw beneath North Brother Island's glamorous exterior.
"What if,"
Emil's tone became more oppressive.
"One day, a client with a 'worse temper' than me arrives. He loses control."
"Or, if a certain organization, like your old friends at S.H.I.E.L.D., suddenly turns hostile. They send a fleet to surround this place. What do you plan to do?"
He gestured towards the direction of the apartment.
Tandy and Tyrone's rooms were over there.
"How will you, and your two employees, leave?"
A fine layer of cold sweat seeped from William's back.
He was stumped.
He had been immersed in the joy of "empty-handed" dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D. and acquiring a private Base.
But he had overlooked the most fundamental issue.
Would Nick Fury, that old fox, be so kind as to give him a flawless sanctuary?
Perhaps, from the beginning, this island, in Fury's plan, was an "asset" that could be abandoned and sacrificed at any time.
It was an isolation zone used for observation, probing, and even direct elimination when necessary.
William looked at Emil.
This monster, who once only had the instinct for slaughter, was now clearer-headed than anyone else.
The keenness and insight of a top warrior were returning to him.
This gave William a sense of reassurance.
It also made him even more certain of how wise a decision it was to keep this "client" on the island.
"You're right."
William frankly admitted his oversight.
"I was too focused on reinforcing the cage's bars, but forgot to leave myself an escape route."
He looked at Emil, his eyes becoming incredibly serious.
This was a stance of equality, seeking professional advice.
"Mr. Blonsky, no, Emil. You were once the elite of the elite. You carried out the most dangerous missions on the most complex battlefields. From your professional perspective, what do you suggest?"
Hearing this question, a subtle change occurred in Emil's eyes.
It was no longer a conversation between client and boss.
Nor was it a confrontation between monster and guard.
William was seeking Emil Blonsky's professional knowledge, not the Abomination's destructive power.
This was a long-lost feeling of being respected as a "person."
He was silent for a moment.
He seemed to be constructing a complete tactical map in his mind.
"Conventional methods, such as building an undersea tunnel, would be too massive an undertaking. And it wouldn't escape S.H.I.E.L.D.'s satellites and sonar. Their engineering team has been here for so long; they know the geological structure here inside out."
Emil rejected the most direct solution.
He walked to the giant New York City map.
His finger lightly tapped the location of North Brother Island.
"What we need is not a 'road' in the conventional sense."
His finger traced the flow of the East River, moving towards the vast and complex underground system of Manhattan Island.
"This city's underground is much more fascinating than its surface. Abandoned subway lines, crisscrossing sewers, old canal beds from a century ago, and even some unknown secret fortifications… They are like a huge capillary network, spread throughout the entire city."
William's eyes lit up.
He seemed to understand something.
"You mean…"
"We need a 'backdoor.' A backdoor that allows us to discreetly access this network in an emergency."
The corners of Emil's mouth curved into a grim arc.
"A passage no one would think of."
He turned to look at William.
"The problem is, from here to the underground pipe network on the other side of the river, there's hard rock and hundreds of meters of wide, bottomless river water in between. Conventional drilling equipment would make too much noise; it's simply not feasible."
William's gaze roamed across the map.
The dense lines were like an invisible spiderweb, each representing a possibility.
His finger tapped the table, and a bold idea began to form in his mind.
"Conventional drilling is indeed not feasible." William looked up, "But you said we don't need conventional methods."
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