"Alexander, you know, moving people across borders, especially people carrying 'trouble'… is complicated. But don't worry, I'll do my best…" he drawled, leaving ample room for the other party to sweeten the deal.
Pierce cursed inwardly—that greedy one-eyed bastard! His "do my best" meant he wouldn't do it for free! But… damn it, he had no choice but to rely on him now. Fury must have already smelled the connection between Bates Capital and me…
Pierce took a deep breath, as if making a hard decision. "Nick, I know this request is a little… unusual. And of course, I won't ask for a favor without offering something in return. We've recently been cleaning up some 'failed projects,' and we happen to have cleared out a batch of research data and preliminary analysis reports on 'Special Ability Individuals,' codenamed Witch. This is… highly sensitive but incredibly high-potential material. I believe that given your interest in 'expanding the boundaries of human potential,' it should be of some value?"
Fury was secretly startled. Is Pierce really that desperate? But this was certainly substantial.
The finger Fury had been tapping on his desk paused for a moment; it was the only signal of "interest" he allowed himself to show. His voice took on a trace of imperceptible scrutiny: "Witch? Sounds… fantastical. Be specific. You know, I always approach things that sound ethereal with… well, reservations."
"It involves gene enhancement, neuro-potential development, explosive power, and superpower creation," Pierce chose his words carefully. "It includes some successful physiological data and in-depth analysis of failure cases. While they aren't as 'perfect' as the final products, the breakthrough thinking and the exploration of limits within them will definitely offer a fresh perspective for your Avengers Initiative. The core files… I'll arrange for an absolutely secure, encrypted channel to send them to your designated address within 24 hours."
Hmm, not bad, not bad! While Fury didn't know everything about Project Witch, he knew enough to realize the products of the program were incredibly formidable, though the drawback was the long cultivation period, which had to begin from the embryonic stage. It required nearly twenty years to reach maturity in terms of age, mind, and power, making the time cost astronomical. However, the advantage for Fury in getting this material was that it could be cross-referenced with the ongoing Super Soldier Serum research, filling in gaps and potentially accelerating the program.
He briefly considered it, then decided to accept the request.
"Alexander, you're always so generous," Fury said, making every word crystal clear. "Protecting a few financial professionals who desperately need to retire, getting them safely out of the United States, and finding them a scenic place to live out their days… I'll take the job. As for your research data, I don't want to wait 24 hours. I want it now. You know I have a great passion for anything that enhances our ability to deal with 'special situations.' Deal?"
Hearing Nick Fury's words, Pierce was internally cursing furiously: That damned Hawk Lane! That damned Busan! That damned Fury! But he had to stabilize Nick now. Even if he didn't hand over this data now, with Fury's nose for trouble, he'd dig up some of it sooner or later.
Consider it… damage control!
"…Deal, Nick," Pierce's voice was heavy, like a piece of flesh being cut away. "The files will be delivered promptly. As for Bates… I'm counting on you. Make sure their safety is guaranteed." His last sentence carried a strict warning.
"Don't worry, Alexander," Fury's smile widened as he watched a huge compressed file—full of Project Witch data and research findings—transmit from an unknown IP address to his screen. He hung up the phone decisively.
Listening to the dial tone, Pierce slammed the satellite phone hard onto the floor, the expensive communication device instantly cracking apart. The loss was devastating!
....
The Triskelion.
Inside the Triskelion, Nick Fury looked at the terminated call screen, the smile instantly vanishing from his face, replaced by cold intensity. He pressed the internal comms button: "Hill, I'm sending you an encrypted file, code name 'Witch.' Highest priority decryption. Also, initiate 'Safe House Transfer Protocol' for targets Richard Bates and his core team. Destination: Hong Kong, China. Move fast…"
....
Steinway Tower, Penthouse
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows was the entire, brilliantly lit, sleepless city of Manhattan. Hawk Lane, dressed only in a dark silk robe, stood quietly, holding a glass of aged Port. He had just finished an encrypted call with a Swiss bank, confirming that the last colossal sum of money stripped from the "ruins" of Bates Capital had safely flowed into the offshore companies under his control.
Andy stood a short distance behind him, also in a simple silk robe, her long hair loose, a lingering flush on her face. The tablet in front of her displayed a news alert confirming the formal bankruptcy filing of Bates Capital.
"The Bates Capital affair is finally over," Andy sighed in relief.
Hawk turned around, took a sip of the mellow Port, and a cruel curve appeared on his lips. "Over? No. This is just the beginning."
At that moment, a knock sounded on the door. Andy went to open it.
The person who entered was Goo Ja-yoon. She walked in with a natural expression, dragging a petite, coat-wrapped female figure behind her. She looked as though she was dragging a worn-out doll, carelessly tossing Won-bin, wrapped in the coat, onto the cold, polished marble floor.
The coat fell open, revealing a frail body in a thin hospital gown, covered in a mix of old and fresh scars. Won-bin was curled up, her delicate face white as paper, showing deep-seated fear and pain. She trembled instinctively but forced herself not to make a sound when she hit the cold floor. Her eyes, once so fiercely cruel, now held only a frightened side-glance, fixed desperately on the edge of the carpet, afraid to look up at the room's owner.
Andy closed the door and returned to Hawk's side, her gaze calmly sweeping over the Won-bin on the floor as if evaluating an object. Goo Ja-yoon, meanwhile, naturally walked to the bar, poured herself a glass of water, and leaned against the edge, watching everything with detached indifference, as if this were just a normal daily occurrence.
The enormous window framed the dazzling night view of Manhattan, a stark contrast to the grim tension inside the room.
Hawk didn't speak immediately. He took another slow sip of the Port, the rich liquid sliding down his throat, his gaze landing slowly on Won-bin like an invisible yoke, carrying an almost indifferent pressure.
The air in the room seemed frozen, broken only by Won-bin's barely suppressed, tiny gasps.
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