S.H.I.E.L.D., formerly known as the Strategic Scientific Reserve, was established during World War II. It is now a special force used by the International Security Council to handle various extraordinary events.
The director, Nick Fury, is seen by Yasuo as a true scapegoat. From TV shows and Marvel movies in his past life, Yasuo learned that Fury’s tenure was filled with the activities of supervillains and superheroes, the arrival of extraterrestrial beings like Thor, the loss of the Tesseract, the Chitauri invasion, the resurgence of Hydra, and then Fury’s eventual dismissal. In Yasuo’s understanding, Nick Fury was merely unlucky, having to deal with these incidents during his tenure, and he handled them quite well.
Melinda and Coulson were also familiar characters to Yasuo. They were Nick Fury’s most trusted subordinates. Seeing these real-life versions of them today, Yasuo realized this wouldn’t be an easy situation to get through.
“Sorry, could you repeat that more slowly? What did you say your department is called? The name is too long.” Yasuo played dumb, trying to bluff his way through.
“Alright, we ourselves complain about the name. You can call us S.H.I.E.L.D., a global special agency,” Coulson said casually.
“Okay, S.H.I.E.L.D. So, what do two senior agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. want with a poor orphan like me?” Yasuo continued playing dumb.
“Mr. Yasuo, S.H.I.E.L.D. is committed to safeguarding global security and eliminating potential threats. Based on this principle, we investigate any organization or individual we deem a threat. We are a line of defense between the world and more bizarre threats. I think you understand what I’m saying,” Coulson explained, then stared intently at Yasuo, trying to find any telltale signs.
Yasuo shook his head, feigning ignorance. “I only sold some smuggled knives. How does that threaten world security? Are you so idle that you come after my knife shop instead of stopping terrorists?”
Melinda, losing patience, took over. “We don’t care about your knife sales, even if they’re blessed by monks. Kid, how many gang members have died near your shop recently? All with identical wounds. And last night, a man in a red cloak created a whirlwind with his sword. These photos don’t lie. What do you have to say about this?!”
She threw a stack of photos at Yasuo.
Yasuo glanced at the photos, recognizing himself from last night. As he flipped through, he noticed the identical wounds. Damn, his system skills exposed him. But had they confirmed his identity or were they just suspicious? Yasuo decided to keep playing dumb.
“Some cross-dressing weirdo? What do these bodies have to do with me?” Yasuo shrugged.
Coulson interjected, “Melinda, he’s the cross-dresser. He hesitated and showed seven signs of lying.”
Yasuo protested this unfair treatment. As an untrained civilian, how could he lie convincingly to highly-trained agents?
“Alright, Yasuo, admit it. We’ve confirmed your identity. Continuing to deny won’t help,” Coulson pressed. “In fact, this could benefit you.”
Yasuo, feeling defeated, slumped like a beaten rooster. “Okay, S.H.I.E.L.D. is impressive. I barely used a bit of my ability, and you found me.”
Coulson gave Melinda a victory sign. “Got it on record. Confirmed: Yasuo, codename ‘Dragon Whirlwind’, is classified Level 6.”
“Well done, Coulson. Your tricks still work,” Melinda praised him with a thumbs-up.
Yasuo realized he’d been tricked. Agents’ lies couldn’t be trusted.
“So, what do you want from me? Are you going to arrest me for murder?” Yasuo didn’t think he could fight S.H.I.E.L.D. Even though only Hawkeye and Black Widow from the future Avengers were in S.H.I.E.L.D. now, there were countless regular agents and international support. Fighting S.H.I.E.L.D. was like fighting the world.
“Finding murderers is the police’s job. We’re here to assess your status and abilities. First question: Are you a mutant?” Coulson asked directly.
“Mutant? No, I’m not a mutant. I’m a normal human,” Yasuo insisted. He didn’t want to be monitored as a mutant.
“Not a mutant? Then how can you create tornadoes? This is no joke. Answer seriously,” Melinda said sternly.
Yasuo remembered a famous line from “One Piece” in his past life. “I’m a swordsman. That tornado is my flying slash. Every swordsman who can use flying slashes is called a master swordsman,” Yasuo explained seriously.
“A master swordsman? Flying slashes?” Melinda was skeptical about such claims from the East.
“Damn, even though I’m Asian, I haven’t been to any Eastern countries more than five times. How would I know this? Fine, I’ll believe you for now,” Melinda said, indicating she wasn’t convinced but would move on.
“Your flying slash creates a tornado. What power generates it? We need detailed records to assess the threat,” Coulson asked seriously.
“Energy. I channel energy into my sword, and the swing generates the tornado,” Yasuo explained, not sure where he’d read this setting in some novel.
Coulson, unsure of what to do next, thought, Damn, he’s not a mutant. What now? The mutant assessment protocol doesn’t apply. Should we have him report with the mutants? That’s not right!
Melinda, seeing Coulson’s confusion, said, “What’s your phone number? Keep it on 24/7 so we can monitor your status. Understand?”
Yasuo, meanwhile, had a new idea. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
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