The way things unfolded was nothing like Herman had expected.
The drawn-out back-and-forth he imagined, maybe even ending up in court, never happened. Instead, the insurance company agreed to pay out immediately.
The speed was uncanny.
Shouldn't they have first inspected the site, assessed the damage, checked for human causes, then sent in a team of agents to haggle with him over the settlement?
How could they just agree to pay $1.3 million in one go?
Herman received compensation far beyond what he'd estimated. It was enough not only to rebuild the bar on the same site but to make it bigger, and even turn the whole place into a flirtation paradise.
Yet he wasn't happy.
All the effort he'd poured into preparing materials—dozens of pages of arguments stacked on his desk—was wasted. Even the blind lawyer's number he'd tracked down was useless now. It almost felt worse than having to pay damages to the state of Texas himself.
Would any normal insurance company ever be this generous?
Of course not.
"Damn S.H.I.E.L.D.!"
Herman wasn't stupid. He realized the truth on the spot. He was already under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s watch, so naturally his assets were under surveillance too. That operator on the other end had to be S.H.I.E.L.D., and for all he knew, Nick Fury himself could've been standing right next to them.
He'd bet ten years of Nick Fury's lifespan on it.
...
In the end, Herman's curse proved true.
Because just as he suspected, the "insurance company" call had in fact been handled by S.H.I.E.L.D.—and Nick Fury really was standing right beside the operator.
Herman knew how S.H.I.E.L.D. worked.
Out at sea, a massive black helicarrier moved steadily forward, like some prehistoric beast looming over the waves. Even from a distance, its presence was overwhelming.
Inside this behemoth was the world's most powerful organization—S.H.I.E.L.D.
Countless agents busied themselves across sleek, high-tech command rooms, the hum and chatter of electronic instruments filling the air.
Incidents from all over the world were processed here, most of them involving supernatural events hidden from public view.
Though it didn't employ many extraordinary individuals itself, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mission was to preserve the fragile peace and stability of the world.
Setting aside its habit of meddling and its tendency to botch things, the organization's original purpose was undeniably noble.
"How did he respond?"
Nick Fury stood beside the operator, his face stern and serious. After learning of the incident in Texas, he had immediately traced the accident site to property belonging to that suspicious director.
His instincts told him the Texas incident was no natural disaster. Coulson's on-site inspection only reinforced that belief. What kind of natural disaster could destroy underground defense cables?
If such a catastrophe existed, the damage would have been far more widespread. And the meteorologists should have seen it coming.
"The target said… 'Motherfucker.'"
The operator hesitated before answering Nick Fury's question.
"Huh? After we paid him enough to build two bars, he's still ungrateful enough to curse at you?"
Nick Fury frowned. He was already convinced the man had a rotten attitude.
"No… he wasn't insulting me…"
The operator still looked uneasy, clearly conflicted.
"I want his exact words." Fury sounded irritated. He had just taken off his earpiece to clean his ear a moment ago.
"He told me to pass a message to the person standing next to me… 'Motherfucker.'" The operator glanced nervously at Fury, forcing an awkward, helpless smile, as if to say, "Boss, you told me to repeat it word for word."
"…"
Fury's already dark expression grew even darker.
What the hell was this?
He knew Herman must have sensed their presence, and with Charles having already told him about S.H.I.E.L.D., it wasn't surprising he was aware.
But did he have to be this brazen?
Did he really think S.H.I.E.L.D. was that easy to mess with?
"Leave that last line out of the report." Fury gave the order curtly, then stepped into another room, his face still stormy.
He was furious.
But he also knew this wasn't the time to lash out.
He had to keep himself in check.
"Well? Have you figured out what this guy's deal is yet?" Fury asked, suppressing his anger. The only reason he was holding back was because of a video intercepted online yesterday.
Inside the room, Natasha, Agent Hill, Agent May, and even Coulson were gathered.
They were all huddled around a large screen, watching a video with heavy expressions.
The footage was sharp and clear. It began with stars twinkling in the night sky—then suddenly, a figure streaked across the lens like a meteor.
The person filming seemed to realize something and tried to catch it on camera again, but the figure never reappeared.
"My god! That was a person?"
Startled voices could be heard in the recording.
If Herman had been there, he would have recognized it at once.
The figure in the footage was him—after his battle with Blackheart, he'd rushed back to New York, and along the way he'd been caught on camera like a careless UFO.