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Having just made a big deal, Mike was in a fantastic mood—even the bursts of gunfire now sounded melodious to his ears.
Sloan put his phone away, looked at Mike, and after a moment's thought, said, "I want to make another deal with you."
Mike gestured toward the factory, where the gunfire continued to echo.
"You want me to deal with that?"
"Exactly."
"No thanks." Mike patted Sloan on the shoulder. "You've got enough money to live in luxury. Do you really want to keep relying on those people inside to control others' destinies—even the fate of the world?"
Sloan's expression flickered for a moment.
Mike chuckled. "Come on, don't kid yourself. Those people in there? To those who wield real power, they're not even worth a damn."
Sloan fell silent, then suddenly said, "Like you, for example?"
Mike smiled without replying. "Out of respect for the years we've known each other, I'll give you some advice—this is your best chance to walk away."
Sloan pondered briefly, then nodded, a sense of ease washing over him.
Maybe it was time to get out...
Perhaps he should find some scenic, peaceful place to retire—and maybe a couple of young women to enjoy life with.
"What about the people in there? Are you going to kill them all?" Sloan asked.
Mike gave him an exasperated look. "Do I look like some kind of bloodthirsty maniac to you?"
Sloan squinted at him. "Have you forgotten the missions you used to carry out?"
"Alright, alright." Mike waved him off. "Hurry up and leave. I'll have someone take care of the mess inside—he'll love those assassins."
Sloan nodded again and said to Mike, "Thanks."
He paused, then added, "Tell that guy to go easy on them."
With that, Sloan turned and walked away.
Watching Sloan's back, Mike's lips curled into a faint smile.
Smart guy. As for the people inside...
Mike thought for a moment and couldn't help but laugh.
Maybe there's another deal to be made.
Pulling out his phone, he walked toward the factory while dialing Nick Fury.
The call connected...
"Hey, Fury!"
"Let me guess, you need me to clean up your mess again?"
Nick Fury asked, all too familiar with the routine.
Mike stroked his chin. "When have I ever asked you to do that?"
"Let's be real. The only time I'm even useful is when it comes to these situations. If you can't handle something, what the hell can I do?"
Fury's voice was tinged with frustration—an inexpressible, simmering resentment.
As an ordinary man, he'd never been much help to someone as powerful as Mike—especially now...
He could barely trust anyone anymore—everyone seemed like they might be Hydra.
Just thinking about how all his years of effort had been quietly devoured by Hydra, how he'd had to secretly move S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources, made his blood boil.
*Fuck. Fuck!!*
Cursing internally, he took a deep breath and asked, "What is it?"
"I want to make a deal with you."
"A deal?" Fury sounded intrigued. "What kind of deal?"
"You're rebuilding from scratch, right? Need manpower?"
"You're offering to help me?"
Fury asked in surprise.
"Sure—if you eat one hundred round slices of bread in a row, I might consider it."
One hundred round slices of bread?
And he'd only consider it?
Fury paused.
Just seeing round slices of bread made him nauseous—eating them was out of the question.
No way. Too risky.
"What's the real deal?"
"You know about the Assassin's Guild—the group I used to be part of years ago?"
Fury nodded, and an idea sparked in his mind, a glint of excitement in his eyes.
Mike grinned. "There's been some upheaval in the Guild. I imagine a lot of them are ready to switch jobs. If you want, I can sell them to you—as a package deal."
Fury's heart skipped a beat.
Those assassins, with a bit of retraining, could easily become competent agents.
"Sell them to me—are you kidding? Do I look like a slave trader?"
"If you don't want them, I'll just kill them all."
"Wait!" Fury shouted, "That's a huge waste!"
"So, do you want them or not?"
"Yes! Name your price! But don't go overboard—this is just repurposing junk."
Mike had originally planned to let Fury decide the price, but knowing how shameless Fury was, he'd probably offer him a dollar.
So instead, he said, "Not much—just enough to buy two of Charles' mansions."
"Goodbye," Nick Fury said coolly.
Mike blinked, then hung up the phone without hesitation.
Nick Fury: "…"
He's not even allowing room for negotiation?
Fury's mouth twitched. He called Mike back and said, "Let's make it cheaper—one mansion."
"One and a half."
"One."
"I'm hanging up!"
"Mike! You're a damn vampire!"
"Want me to use actual vampire powers to come chat with you?"
"Sorry—my bad, Papa Mike."
"I don't have a son like you," Mike replied flatly, but both men burst into laughter at the same time.
Their banter was just like the old days.
As the laughter faded, Mike gave him the address. Fury hung up with a slight smile tugging at his lips.
Did Mike really care about that bit of money?
No.
Mike just didn't want him to owe any favors.
Sometimes with friends, the more you owe, the less it feels like a friendship. And Fury already owed Mike plenty.
At the same time, Mike gave himself a mental pat on the back as a familiar card appeared in his hand again—Professor X.
This ability was incredibly convenient. Mike liked it more and more, but…
He couldn't help running a hand through his hair.
The strands felt secure—no problems.
With a thought, Mike unleashed his psychic power, instantly gaining a clear view of everything happening inside the textile factory.
The battle was locked in a stalemate. Fox and her team were wounded and looked battered.
Mike pressed a finger to his temple. In an instant, an invisible force froze everyone in place and guided them out of the building.
Using fabric lying around the factory, Mike had the enemies tie each other up, then turned to Fox and her companions.
With a snap of his fingers, he released them from his control.
The moment the three were free, they immediately raised their weapons.
Their minds had just resumed from the heat of battle, their thoughts still locked in combat mode.
When they saw the bound assassins standing like lifeless puppets, they hesitated slightly and turned toward Mike.
Fox smiled through the pain, clutching her wound. "Thanks!"
Cross and Wesley looked at Mike with genuine gratitude.
Mike casually tossed three *Rejuvenation* cards, and green energy flowed over the trio.
Watching their wounds quickly vanish, the three stared at Mike in astonishment.
Mike said, "Fox, got the situation figured out?"
Fox nodded calmly. "Yes."
"Sloan was the one who betrayed the faith. He was the one 'Fate' had sentenced to death!"
(End of Chapter)