The only one spared was Lux; it was still broad daylight where she was.
"Since Makima is being a corporate slave at S.H.I.E.L.D. for the sake of Modie-chan's great cause..."
Reze suddenly sneered and leaned forward, her exquisite face almost touching Su Modie's nose.
She directly reached out, pinched Su Modie's soft cheek, and pulled hard.
"Ow, ow, ow..."
Su Modie looked pitiful, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Pain? You know what pain is?" Reze's fingers slid down her cheek and directly gripped Su Modie's slender waist with a strength that made resistance impossible. "Since she's not here, shouldn't we settle the debt you owe us right now?"
"Exactly."
Perona also leaned in, fanning the flames.
They now had a common enemy.
The enemy of an enemy is a friend.
"What debt do I owe?" Su Modie felt a sense of helplessness at the two's inexplicable shared hostility, but she soon realized that things weren't that simple.
Reze didn't listen to a word Su Modie said. She bent down and, without a word, slung Su Modie over her shoulder like a sack of rice.
"Hey! Wait! Reze! You..."
Su Modie cried out as she was suddenly hoisted into the air.
"What am I doing? What do you think? Don't ask what you already know!"
Reze slapped Su Modie's perky little bottom, stuck out her tongue, and flashed a triumphant smile. "Makima-chan, are you watching? You have to work hard for us~ We'll take care of keeping Modie-chan company~"
Smug.jpg
"What are you doing! Help!"
Su Modie's tragic cries echoed in the hallway, but clearly, there was no one left in this house who could save her.
「villainess value +13」
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
Makima, who was currently processing documents, felt her fingers holding the pen tremble slightly.
The tip of the pen left an unnatural ink mark on the paper.
She took a sip from her coffee cup to calm her nerves, an imperceptible trace of annoyance flashing in her golden ringed eyes.
Makima naturally knew what was happening.
That Soviet woman was doing it on purpose.
Reze knew she couldn't leave S.H.I.E.L.D. right now, so she was intentionally making such a scene.
It was to show off, to make her, the "First Wife," also taste the torment of being thousands of miles away yet experiencing it as if she were there.
Yes, Makima considered herself the First Wife.
Even if she was Su Modie's fourth avatar.
Logically, her seniority should be the lowest, but there was no such thing as first-come-first-served in this matter.
"Truly... two disobedient, bad children."
Makima sighed softly, put down her pen, and rubbed her slightly warm earlobe.
For Master Modie, for their common plan.
This small sacrifice and endurance was something she, Makima, could handle.
She picked up her pen again and forced her attention back to the top-secret file on the Tesseract in front of her... After that, time flowed like sand through fingers, and several days passed in a flash.
The clerical work at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters was not thrilling like in the movies at all; in fact, it was so boring it was almost hair-raising.
Especially for a new recruit like Makima, her life was divided into two parts.
One part was processing "worthless" junk intelligence filtered out by field Agents, and the other part was dealing with the subtle and foolish interpersonal relationships in the office.
"Hey, Miss Makima, your latte, double sugar."
A male Agent wearing a tactical vest and reeking of excessive cologne leaned against the partition of Makima's workstation.
He was Mike from the strike team, three years on the job, and he considered himself the department's Casanova.
In reality, he was just a fool who couldn't walk past a pretty newcomer.
"Thank you, just leave it there."
Makima didn't even look up, and the rhythm of her typing didn't falter for a single beat.
The absolute sense of detachment beneath her politeness made the smile on Mike's face stiffen, but he clearly didn't intend to give up. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Don't just stare at the screen, beautiful. Are you free tonight?"
"I know a nice jazz bar..."
Makima sighed softly, but before she could refuse—
"Mike! Is your report finished? What are you loitering around here for!"
Not far away, a sharp roar interrupted his mating behavior.
It was Mrs. Higgins, a veteran of the Administrative Department... a middle-aged woman going through menopause with a natural hostility toward all young and beautiful women, standing at the office door and glaring.
Mike shrunk his neck, whispered "talk to you later" to Makima, and scurried away.
"And you, Makima."
Mrs. Higgins walked over and slammed a thick stack of folders onto Makima's desk, kicking up a cloud of dust. "File the traffic accident and fire reports for the entire U.S. from this week. I want to see the analytical briefing before you clock out."
"Yes, Mrs. Higgins."
Makima calmly accepted the work, as if she hadn't heard Mrs. Higgins mutter before leaving:
"Don't think you can just coast along here just because you're pretty..."
Just then, the automatic sensor doors slid open.
Two figures in suits walked quickly through the open office area, conversing in low voices.
Phil Coulson, and the notoriously strict and rigid Felix Blake.
They were essentially the core figures of the Index Asset Evaluation and Intake Procedure.
"...I still stand by my point, Agent Coulson." Felix Blake's brow was furrowed. He had short, graying hair and a cold expression, his tone carrying the forceful edge of a superior.
"Letting that Reze out of our sight is an absolute mistake, even if she has temporarily reached a cooperation with us... Moreover, the number of people on the Index is growing too fast. For those uncontrollable factors, monitoring and regulation are what's most important."
Hearing her "dear sister's" name, Makima couldn't help but quietly prick up her ears.
Inside Fisk Tower, Su Modie also raised an eyebrow. As expected, S.H.I.E.L.D. had already noticed their move.
It was just that they were currently in a stage of turning a blind eye.
They were unwilling to burn bridges with Reze, with whom they had finally reached a cooperation.
"We can't push them too hard."
Coulson wore that gentle smile of his. "Look at Tony Stark, or Agent Romanoff. If we had taken a hardline approach from the beginning, S.H.I.E.L.D. might be facing a group of powerful enemies right now instead of consultants."
The voices of the two faded away, soon disappearing at the end of the hallway.
This was just a common clash of ideologies.
Within S.H.I.E.L.D., the debate over whether to "regulate" or "guide" superpowered individuals had never stopped, acting like a small microcosm of the Sokovia Accords that would lead to the Avengers' civil war in the future.
This debate was meaningless to Makima; she cared more about the things they had filtered out and left in her hands.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had a massive intelligence network, there was no doubt about that, but even a rigorous Agent like Blake was limited by the current scientific understanding of this World, often appearing overly "materialistic."
They always tried to force all anomalies into existing logical frameworks for explanation—and if they couldn't explain it, they attributed it to data errors or human interference.
And these fish that slipped through the net were her opportunity.
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