Agent Hill
The system's prompt sound had just faded when a plain-looking ring materialized in Xu Mo's hand.
The ring appeared unremarkable—an ordinary circular band, its material indistinguishable. Xu Mo slipped it onto his finger and directed his telekinesis into it.
Instantly, his mind connected with the object. Within, he sensed a cubic storage space measuring ten meters in length, width, and height. The interior shape could be altered at will according to his thoughts.
"Good."
Xu Mo nodded with satisfaction. With a light gesture, he willed the armor beside him into the storage ring.
---
By the time Xu Mo returned home, the sun was nearing its zenith.
The moment he stepped into his villa, a servant hurried forward.
"Sir, someone claiming to be an FBI agent is here to see you."
"FBI?" Xu Mo's brows furrowed. His only knowledge of the FBI came from movie disclaimers. Seeing a real agent was a first.
Minutes later, in the reception room, Xu Mo sat opposite a tall woman.
She wore a tailored black suit that accentuated her lithe figure. Her hair was tied neatly back, and a pair of sharp blue eyes studied him with curiosity.
"Hello. Maria Hill, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."
Xu Mo blinked. S.H.I.E.L.D.
Hill had expected a hulking man with brute strength—someone whose frame matched the reputation of the Kingpin he'd slain. Instead, she found herself staring at a fair-skinned man of balanced build, more refined than imposing.
When they shook hands, recognition dawned on Xu Mo. Of course—Agent Maria Hill. Right hand of Director Nick Fury.
The context became obvious. Natasha Romanoff must have passed word along, and now S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted him recruited.
Sure enough, Hill confirmed it at once:
"Mr. Xu, I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. We'd like to invite you to join us."
She handed him a folder. Xu Mo gave it a cursory glance before tossing it aside. A smirk tugged at his lips.
"Trading a comfortable life to hunt criminals? Ms. Hill, that doesn't sound like a good deal."
Hill didn't flinch. Instead, she drew a tablet from her bag, brought up a video, and slid it across the table.
"Watch this. You may reconsider."
Xu Mo's expression sharpened as he accepted it. The recording showed a dimly lit hall, filled with mutants of varying appearances. The shaky perspective suggested a hidden camera.
At the head of the gathering sat an elderly man in a polished metal helmet.
"Magneto," Xu Mo muttered. "The Brotherhood."
The video made their intentions clear—they wanted him recruited into the Brotherhood of Mutants. Their true aim, however, was his immense wealth.
Xu Mo's face darkened. He had already suspected the Brotherhood's hand behind Kingpin and the Red Hulk, but this confirmed it. The real question was: why did they need such vast funds? Were they preparing for another large-scale operation?
He had no patience for their schemes. Normally, he'd leave Magneto to the X-Men. But if they were plotting against him personally, he couldn't afford to sit idle.
Hill's voice broke his thoughts.
"If you join S.H.I.E.L.D., we can help protect you from them."
Xu Mo chuckled coldly.
"Protect me? More like use me."
S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't ignore mutant threats—after all, their founding purpose was to contain such dangers. They wanted him as a weapon, nothing more.
Hill didn't deny it. She only replied evenly:
"Does it matter? They're targeting you. Either way, you'll need to fight."
Xu Mo leaned back, considering. She wasn't wrong. At last, he said,
"I won't join any organization. But… we can cooperate."
Hill raised a brow. "What kind of cooperation?"
"This time, I'll work with you against the Brotherhood. Consider it payment for the intel. If the cooperation goes well, we can continue in the future. Every time you provide me intelligence, I'll deal with the problem."
Hill studied him, weighing the offer. Intelligence had always been S.H.I.E.L.D.'s strength. For Xu Mo, it was invaluable. If not for Hill, the Brotherhood's plans might have blindsided him.
After a pause, Hill rose. "I'll need clearance from my commander."
"Of course." Xu Mo gestured for her to step out.
Ten minutes later, she returned, her expression unchanged.
"It's a pleasure working with you. From this moment, I'll be your sole contact. Only the Director and I will know of this arrangement. Expect Brotherhood intel soon."
---
After seeing her out, Xu Mo sank into thought.
The Brotherhood had marked him as a target. Waiting passively meant inviting disaster. Magneto's power was legendary—he could manipulate steel on a massive scale, even move submarines. Yet Xu Mo's telekinesis rivaled that in versatility, and his body was enhanced far beyond normal limits.
More importantly, he had weapons.
He ascended to the study on the top floor. At the press of a hidden button, a section of the bookshelf slid aside, revealing a secret armory.
The 30-square-meter room was lined with firearms: Desert Eagles, M500 revolvers, AKs, Remington shotguns, Barrett anti-material rifles. Xu Mo swept his hand, storing them all in his ring.
At the back, a low-temperature storage unit stood. He opened it, revealing rows of neatly stacked magazines. Unlike normal ammunition, these contained slim, glinting syringes.