Natasha had lied. Fury hadn't sent her to contact Hong Fei last night. Her mission was personal—she'd been chasing leads for Barton, one of her few remaining friends. Even if Fury knew, he wouldn't have stopped her. It fell within her jurisdiction, after all. But that was only part of the story.
She'd shared some of Hong Fei's intel with Barton—details about the crackdown on organized crime and the incident in Tokyo Bay that night. But she'd kept other things to herself. One sentence in particular stuck in her mind: "Has the Red Room really disappeared?"
It shouldn't have bothered her. She'd been the one to blow up Dreykov, the Red Room's leader, leaving herself with scars that still haunted her. She and Barton had destroyed the Red Room together! So why had Hong Fei asked that question? If he were just some minor player, Natasha might have brushed it off with a laugh.
But Hong Fei wasn't insignificant. After those two major events, he'd become a key figure for S.H.I.E.L.D. What nagged at Natasha was his response—he hadn't admitted anything, but he hadn't denied it either. Was it a roundabout confession? Or some kind of open provocation? Troubled, she joined Fury's video conference from her home.
Coulson led the briefing, presenting a series of photos. "In New Mexico, I met Hong Fei and spoke with him briefly," he began. "He was calm, but I sensed something off about him. He felt different from when I saw him in Singapore." He clicked to the next slide.
"The first image is a reconstruction based on eyewitness accounts. It shows Hong Fei lifting the hammer, with Dr. Helen Cho by his side." Another click. "The second is surveillance footage from a nearby town. It captures the masked man summoning the hammer from fifty kilometers away and handing it directly to Thor."
"The third photo shows Hong Fei buying a stable in town and selling it when he left." Coulson advanced to the final image. "The fourth depicts Thor riding an Arabian white horse from Hong Fei's stable to the hammer's landing site. That's the night we detained him."
He paused, then added, "According to Matt Murdock's tracking, Thor clearly knows the masked man and holds him in high regard. But when I pressed him, Thor denied it outright."
"We have video and photos, but no matter how advanced our analysis systems are, the masked man's physical data doesn't match Hong Fei's. It makes me question whether we're even tracking the right person." Coulson sighed. "As always, there are more traces and doubts, but no concrete evidence."
The room fell silent after Coulson's report. Fury broke the tension. "Suddenly, Thor—a figure straight out of myth—is standing right in front of us. Doesn't it feel like the world's gone strange?" No one answered, but Fury could read their thoughts.
Truthfully, Fury wasn't immune to surprise. He'd just experienced it differently. After years of dealing with aliens, Thor struck him as merely a more powerful one. "Since the Tokyo Bay incident, we've known Hong Fei possesses unusual abilities. Tanks appearing out of nowhere, summoning Thor's hammer—a hammer even Thor couldn't lift at first. Should any of this really shock us?"
He leaned back, his tone cool. "Barton, your turn." Barton nodded. "The salvage operation in Tokyo Bay hasn't yielded much. After a thorough search with professional diving equipment, we've called it off."
The suddenly appearing tanks, now summoning Thor's hammer, and even that was a hammer Thor couldn't lift initially—it all pointed to something extraordinary. Yet Fury's calm demeanor suggested this was just another puzzle in a world full of them.
I tracked the case's origins and widened my search, uncovering another incident that occurred elsewhere in the city that same night. Barton projected a series of images onto the screen. The photos revealed a sprawling factory floor littered with bodies. Tools and piles of pure white finished products were scattered across tables, making Natasha and the others exchange uneasy glances.
"It's a drug factory," Barton explained. "Located right in the heart of a busy district. Thirty-one deaths, over two tons of product seized. Based on the kill patterns—sharp precision shots and blade wounds—it matches the MO from the Edogawa District villa case."
He paused, then added, "And here's the kicker: the factory belongs to the same owner as that villa." Fury's brow furrowed deeply.
Barton hesitated before continuing, "This pretty much rules out the idea of an internal vendetta in the villa case. If it were their own people, they wouldn't just abandon a goldmine like this." Fury remained silent.
Hill broke the quiet. "Regardless of whether it's internal or not, The Hand has to be our primary target now. Based on what we've seen, it's our duty to take them down." Coulson nodded. "Agreed. An organization like that shouldn't exist in the first place." Natasha chimed in, "Same here."
Barton crossed his arms. "Right. This just means there's another player involved, but The Hand still needs to go. This factory proves they're too dangerous to leave standing."
"Good," Fury finally spoke. "Keep this under wraps until we've dealt with The Hand. Hill, update us on your end."
Hill flipped through her notes. "Our investigation into Yegor, the old bartender, shows a spotless past. He even has a photo with Captain America. But he's completely alone—no family, no ties. His actions don't line up with someone selling information for profit. We're still digging." Fury gave a curt nod, then turned to Natasha.
She shook her head. "Nothing new on my end."
Fury leaned forward, his voice low and deliberate. "We've got plenty of leads. The more he acts, the more he leaves behind. Take New Mexico—he practically handed himself to us by lifting that hammer."
"I don't trust photo comparisons. He's got ways to manipulate our systems, or he wouldn't have stayed off our radar this long." He slammed his fist on the table. "This has dragged on too long. I'm not wasting more time on some twenty-something kid!"
"Sure, he's strong. Probably has some kind of power. But remember—we're S.H.I.E.L.D.! The operation against The Hand is nearly complete. Once they're gone, bring him in for questioning. I don't want him waltzing out of here. I want him in a courtroom. Understood?"
The team responded in unison, "Understood!"
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit room, Hong Fei sat before a computer screen displaying Frank's face. Big Head leaned in from the side. "Boss, according to our network tracking, a lot of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents have been moving into New York. Reinforcements are arriving too. Something big's going down."
Hong Fei studied the screen. "Thoughts, Frank?"
Frank's voice was grim. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is almost ready to close the net. Whether The Hand knows it or not, they're surrounded. Unless they can teleport, they're not getting out."
Hong Fei nodded. "Exactly. So it's time for us to make our move."
Frank raised an eyebrow. "Wait—what do you mean by 'us'?"
Frank scratched his head, baffled. "If you want those Hand fingers, why not just sneak in and grab them? No need for a full-blown confrontation with S.H.I.E.L.D. We could avoid all this drama."
Hong Fei let out a weary sigh. "I wish it were that simple. But someone's not giving me the chance. I'm trying to be a decent person here, and he's telling me to turn myself in to the cops. Does that sound reasonable to you? It's like he wants me dead!"
Frank raised an eyebrow. "Speak plain English, will you?"
"Fine," Hong Fei snapped. "First, I'm annoyed. I don't have time to waste on some one-eyed bald guy. They've been hounding me—openly and covertly—for weeks now. You know how much I've got on my plate. I'm not interested in their mind games, and I sure as hell don't have time to play hide-and-seek. This is my chance to show them why the grass grows red."
"Second," he continued, "once S.H.I.E.L.D. finishes with The Hand, I'm next on their list. If the first two incidents made them aware of me, Thor and the hammer debacle sealed the deal. They're not going to let me slip through their fingers."
Frank frowned. "They've got no proof, though."
Hong Fei rolled his eyes. "Come on, Frank. Since when do they need proof? They're Agents, not cops! Someone once started a war over laundry detergent. Reasons? They can pull a hundred out of thin air!"
Frank fell silent for a long moment before speaking again, his tone grave. "Have you thought this through? We're talking about New York."
"Of course I've thought it through," Hong Fei replied. "We don't need an army—just the five of us."
"Got a plan?"
"Kill in, kill out," Hong Fei said with a shrug.
Frank looked like he was about to explode, so Hong Fei hastily added, "That's just the broad strokes. We'll hammer out the details later. The point is, I want S.H.I.E.L.D. to know they can't touch me without evidence—and even with it, they won't dare come after me."
Frank stared at him, incredulous. Big Head, who'd been listening quietly, looked equally stunned. He wondered if he should start scouting locations for his own mountain hideout.
"Why wouldn't they come after you with evidence?" Frank demanded. "They'd bring the whole damn agency down on your head!"
Hong Fei grinned. "Trust me, Frank. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't as invincible as you think. Sure, they've got numbers and tech, but that's about it. There are plenty of organizations—even individuals—more powerful than them. You've seen Thor. You know how vast the universe is."
"If I spent my time hiding from S.H.I.E.L.D., playing their games, I'd never have gone to the Middle East to buy weapons in the first place. I wouldn't have sought you out when you didn't even know who I was. From the moment I took that first step, nothing could stop me—except myself, or death."
"What we're doing isn't just about grabbing those fingers. It's about showing them that there's more to this world than Liberty Island and Tokyo Bay. It's about showing what I—what we—are capable of."
When Hong Fei finished, the room fell silent once more.
After a while, Frank shook his head and said, "Your tone and expression just now—they reminded me of the supervillains I used to see on TV."
Big Head nodded vigorously in agreement.
Hong Fei smirked. "Not the same. I've got no interest in destroying or ruling the world. And if anyone tries, I'll be the first to stop them."
"Frank, when I act, I dig to the root of the problem. I don't just slap on a band-aid and call it a day." Hong Fei leaned back in his chair. "Take Ivan, for instance. Everyone saw him out for Tony's blood, but did anyone bother to ask why?"
He raised an eyebrow. "His father tried to profit from the reactor, got branded a spy, and died in poverty." Hong Fei spread his hands. "Now look at Tony's armor. If Tony can wield that tech, why not Ivan? The man's using it because he believes his father got a raw deal. Isn't vengeance justified? Tell me, Frank, what's wrong with backing his play?"
"They know the truth," he continued, voice sharpening. "They just choose not to think about it. Who wants to stand up for some middle-aged Russian with no clout? I do." Frank opened his mouth but found no rebuttal. It dawned on him that Hong Fei's Liberty Island operation ran deeper than he'd imagined.
Big Head blinked, stunned. These angles hadn't occurred to him, but he made a mental note to relay this to Ivan later. The boss needed to know he had thoughtful employees too. Meanwhile, Hong Fei glanced at a glowing skill card before continuing. "Everything I do has a rationale that satisfies both of us."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Even by their standards, after every so-called bad deed, I actively perform a good one. Flip that perspective—isn't that self-motivation?" Frank stared at him, incredulous. "You're crazier than anyone I've ever met."
"Smart," Hong Fei corrected smoothly. "Now, tell me honestly—what does the law mean to you?" Frank hesitated. Hong Fei chuckled. "High-level question. Let's analyze specifics. In this world, I'd tentatively call it..." He trailed off, a smirk playing on his lips.
If this weren't Marvel, Hong Fei mused, he'd have sold New York real estate, bought property back home, and settled into a life of collecting rent, much like his previous world. But it wasn't. And if this were DC? Worse. Far worse.
Just like that, two people who didn't want to waste time on each other were about to have a meeting that would definitely not be friendly. Of course, Master Hong was more proactive.