“Ugh…” Sharon Carter stretched as she woke up, seemingly satisfied with her sleep quality after three restless days on a mission.
She weakly asked Yasuo, “Aren’t we there yet?”
Yasuo swallowed hard, staring at the beautiful sight of Sharon rubbing her eyes.
Sharon pushed herself up, noticing that only she and Yasuo were in the car. Outside, the sky was fully bright, and they were parked in a secluded forest area.
After checking her clothes and finding nothing amiss, she suspected Yasuo might have let her sleep undisturbed on purpose, though her instincts as a special agent made her slightly annoyed. “Where’s Stephen? Tell him to get back. We need to keep moving; we’re on a tight schedule!”
Yasuo casually replied, “We wanted to, but we ran out of gas. Stephen went to hitch a ride.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Sharon’s gentle demeanor vanished, replaced by an explosive reaction: “What? You’re on a mission and didn’t calculate the fuel?”
“You know I’m not a special agent. None of this is my concern,” Yasuo’s tone was unapologetic.
Sharon got out of the car with Yasuo, and they spotted Stephen on a nearby road, unsuccessfully trying to hitch a ride.
A shabby truck passed Stephen without stopping, and Sharon quickly pulled out her gun, firing three perfect shots into the passenger seat of the truck. Yasuo’s sharp eyes saw that the truck’s passenger seat was empty.
“Screech…” The truck came to an abrupt halt on the roadside. Sharon walked briskly toward it.
The middle-aged truck driver, clearly experienced, pulled out a shotgun from behind his seat. In a war-torn place like Sokovia, traveling without a weapon was risky.
When he saw the attractive blonde approaching, the driver aimed the shotgun at Sharon. “Hey, girlie, stop right there. Toss your gun over, and if you want a ride, maybe entertain me a bit.”
Ignoring his words, Sharon walked straight toward him, unfazed by the shotgun. The driver, encountering such boldness for the first time, hesitated. Was she a fool? If she weren’t so beautiful, he would’ve shot her already.
Seeing a red blur pass by her, Sharon knew Yasuo was dependable.
Yasuo, annoyed by Sharon’s reckless behavior, rushed ahead, using his Flash skill to appear behind the driver. Before the driver could react, Yasuo knocked him out with the back of his sword.
Sharon, reaching the unconscious driver, smiled at Yasuo before delivering a harsh kick to the driver’s groin. “Didn’t you hear what he just said to me? And you let him off so easily!”
Yasuo realized he had misjudged Sharon; she wasn’t gentle at all. Watching the driver’s face contort in pain even while unconscious, Yasuo felt a pang of sympathy in his own groin. Never mess with a tough woman!
After signaling Stephen, the rookie agent turned into their driver, and they continued their journey in the truck.
Sharon insisted Yasuo sit with her in the back. Faced with her dangerous smile, Yasuo chose the front seat, not wanting to lose face in front of his subordinate.
Now fully awake, Sharon borrowed Stephen’s special agent phone, not avoiding the other two as she dialed. “Hello, Director, it’s me.”
On the other end, Nick Fury’s voice was immediate. “Oh, thank God! If something had happened to you, I wouldn’t know how to explain it to your aunt!”
Sharon glanced out the window, then at Yasuo, smiling. “I’m fine. I’ve made a significant discovery. Send a team to Sokovia to take over.”
After reporting her safety and briefly summarizing the mission, she asked Nick Fury to send agents to clean up any remaining leads at the enemy’s destroyed base.
Yasuo, hearing the call end, tried to lighten the mood. “Talking to the director?”
“Director?” Sharon picked up on the odd term immediately.
Yasuo, caught off guard, realized he had slipped. In the Marvel Universe, no one called Nick Fury “the director.” How should he explain this?
“Director of an African tribe? If he knew you called him that, believe me, he’d have you taken out secretly!” Sharon’s imagination filled in the gaps, easing the awkward moment.
“Why do you always hide in that strange costume? Is there something wrong inside?” Sharon asked bluntly. After recent events, she saw Yasuo as her partner and wanted to understand him better. If he had a severe fetish for costumes, should she accommodate it?
Yasuo was speechless. The terms “fetish” and “weirdo” had stuck to him like labels he couldn’t shake off. How could he explain it?
Wasn’t every superhero supposed to have a unique outfit?
Didn’t he need a disguise?
Why did it make him a weirdo?
Seeing Yasuo’s silence, Sharon thought she might have touched a nerve.
“Can you take off your mask and let me see the real you?” Sharon asked, worried about what might be beneath. She could tolerate a bit of eccentricity, but an old, scarred face might give her nightmares.
Yasuo lifted his mask, revealing a slightly young face.
His Asian features were somewhat youthful but with a strong, determined look. His smile was a bit shy, yet he had a hint of handsomeness. Besides being young, everything met her standards, Sharon thought.
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