Chapter Ten: The Lich King Is Training a Headline Genius [New Book—Please Add to Your Collection and Recommend!]

This defied all scientific reasoning.

But it was nothing short of magic.

Coulson had already braced himself mentally, but witnessing Barton being reeled in from hundreds of meters away as if he were a yo-yo left him not only astonished, but also wary.

This meant that long-range sniping would likely be useless against the target, removing one method of dealing with him.

“Sir, your actions constitute an assault on S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Have you considered the consequences this could bring you?”

Not only Natasha, but Coulson’s expression also darkened. “What you’re doing is a threat.”

“No, Agent, I’m merely stating facts,” came the reply. “Just like his arrows of fate.”

Roald gestured to the man holding a compound bow, a quiver enhanced with modern technology slung across his back—the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent known as Clinton Francis Barton, codename Hawkeye.

“I’ve heard that every arrow he shoots, the enemy’s head will find its way to it. If an arrow fails to hit, it’s only because fate has not yet arrived, and the target is not meant to die. Now, his head has landed in my hands—don’t you think that’s fate coming to fruition?”

With that, Roald ignored the way Coulson was bristling with agitation.

“I believe this Mr. Peter Parker—no, this journalist—has witnessed everything. He’s been filming and recording, and has likely captured how Agent Natasha abused her power and threatened a law-abiding citizen. And you, Agent Coulson, disregarded the fate between the little elven prince and me, and took it as a threat. I am nothing more than an ordinary, civic-minded citizen.”

He turned to Peter, “Did you get all of that down? I’ve even thought up tomorrow’s headline for you: ‘Shocking! Two Men and a Woman from S.H.I.E.L.D. Do the Unthinkable on a City Street!’ Make sure you use that title.”

“These people squander taxpayer money, abuse their authority, flout the law, and inflict indelible psychological trauma upon innocent citizens. As for whether you get a raise or a promotion, that will depend on how sensational you make this story.”

After issuing his instructions, Roald looked back at Coulson. “Am I right, Agent? I imagine a lot of people tomorrow will be happy to see S.H.I.E.L.D. made the laughingstock.”

“Hey, man, I have to hand it to you—your ideas are amazing. But you’re right, standing up for one’s rights is every citizen’s freedom!”

Peter Parker scribbled furiously, his mind opened to a whole new world by Roald’s explosive headline. He shouted gleefully, “That title is just too cool...”

“Of course; if freedom isn’t absolute, then it isn’t freedom at all. Every citizen must learn to defend their rights and dare to oppose evil!”

Though there was some compulsion and suggestion involved, Peter’s performance was so on point that Roald was thoroughly satisfied. Beside them, Erica withdrew her hand—controlling Peter Parker had been a bit taxing.

Coulson, the calmest among them, focused all his attention on Roald, holstering his weapon to indicate he meant no harm.

He spoke softly, “So, Mr. Roald, what will it take to resolve this matter? As you can see, the agent in your grasp is very important to us.”

When one possesses sufficient power, most people are fond of saying, “Why should I reason with you?” and live by that principle.

But faced with an opponent beyond their ability to handle, they tend to adopt, “Let’s talk this out,” as their motto.

It’s just like when your boss asks you to work overtime and tells you to treat the company like your own home. But if you’re late, the boss will say, “Do you think this company is your house?”

Such paradoxes are ever-present.

At this moment, Coulson found himself in just such a predicament. Realizing the person before him was a threat he couldn’t handle, he began to reason with Roald.

“Mr. Roald, I think we really can talk this through. Please don’t escalate things further. As it happens, I know an excellent restaurant—we could settle this somewhere appropriate, and you could name a reasonable price. As for compensation, I’ll need to clear that with my superiors.”

“I understand your predicament, Agent Coulson.” Roald offered a look of sympathy. “It’s a government agency; procedures are necessary, I get it.”

“So, to avoid putting you on the spot, I’ve already thought up two options: First, you ensure that the little elven prince in my hands is no longer a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.; second, you pay me ten times his worth as compensation. What do you think, Agent?”

“Of course, if you refuse compensation, that’s fine too.” Roald smiled at Coulson. “My principle is to proceed logically and convincingly, and if persuasion fails, I’ll compel compliance. There’s always a professional team ready to collect what’s due—like this temp by my side.”

With that, Roald gestured to Erica.

Erica obligingly removed her hood, tried her best to look menacing, and conjured blue frost in her hand, causing Coulson and the others to shudder involuntarily.

“See her pointed ears? There are plenty more elves even tougher than me. If you won’t hand him over, I’ll take him myself.”

Coulson’s gaze shifted instinctively to Erica’s pointed ears; only now did he realize how unusual she was, and he caught a new term for the first time—

Elves, the stuff of legend.

Of course, if elves exist, it’s only natural that they’d practice magic.

But natural? Far from it. In the world of humans, why bring up legendary elves? Are there also demons, undead, and angels lurking about?

Coulson felt his worldview broadened once again. He had clearly underestimated both New York’s capacity for the bizarre and the degree to which this world had become unhinged.

In the past, S.H.I.E.L.D. missions dealing with civilians were always handled with bureaucracy and policy—he’d never encountered such a troublesome citizen. And with the possibility of unknown forces backing the opponent...

Elves—creatures of legend. Real or not, he had to tread carefully.

Gazing at the chill emanating from the frost in the woman’s hand, he found her arguments unassailable—utterly convincing.

His blood pressure was rising!

His fists clenched!

But he probably couldn’t win.

Clearly, the other side had the upper hand. Any conflict would only result in needless casualties, and Hawkeye was still in their grasp.

Coulson took a deep breath, his tone becoming genuinely sincere.

“Sir, please, don’t be impulsive. We can discuss anything. Let’s talk things through—everything is negotiable. But first, I need to consult my superiors.”

Ten minutes later...

A furious shout echoed from a certain room in the Trident headquarters.

“What the hell do you mean, the suspect is actually a sorcerer—and an elf?”

“That’s not scientific! Coulson, I hope you haven’t been reading too many bedtime stories or fairy tales.”

Nick Fury’s voice was practically bursting from the phone, as if he wished he could crawl through the line and box his most capable agent’s ears.

And another thing—

This would definitely be coming out of his paycheck.