Chapter 714

"You're saying you want to take leave?" Nick Fury sat in his office chair, feet propped on the desk, staring at Natasha.

"Yes, medical leave!" Natasha gritted her teeth.

"Medical leave? Are you sick? Then you should just see our psychologist." Nick shook his head.

"I got sick because I kept seeing psychologists!" Natasha raised her voice. "This week alone, I saw one at least fifteen times a day! Even if you want to cut our insurance budget, you don't have to use such underhanded tactics!?"

"What can I say? That's the cost of hiring multiple Shilers. After all, he's a psychologist." Nick shrugged. "Whether it's the Shiler who does accounting, the Shiler who leads Hydra, or the Shiler who does actual medical work—they're all psychologists. Without patients, they won't stay here quietly."

"That's still no excuse for using me as bait to lure three Shilers!" Natasha snapped. "There are so many agents in S. . . . . . why can't you just split the workload?"

"Come on, Natasha, how many agents in the entire S. . . . . . are actually trustworthy?"

Nick put his feet down and pointed to the next room. "In that office over there, nine agents total: eight are Hydra, one's from the CIA—probably a Hydra mole planted there."

"That office over there? Twelve agents, six clerks. Except for Agent Carter, they're all Hydra. The other six? Three are KGB agents posing as Hydra, three are KGB agents posing as CIA. You want them to see a psychologist?"

"I…" Natasha was momentarily speechless. "But I'm also a former Soviet. I was just investigated for suspected Soviet espionage not long ago…"

"Exactly. Shiler's a Soviet spy too. That's why it's you." Nick smiled.

Natasha took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and couldn't find a single word to describe S. . . . . .'s current state.

Right now, 100% of S. . . . . .'s professional agents, 99% of Hydra, half of Hydra are CIA agents, half of CIA agents are foreign spies, and half of those foreign spies are KGB.

And she—Natasha Romanoff—a former Soviet professional agent, neither Hydra nor KGB—had become the sole oddity in the vast S. . . . . .

So when the open Soviet spy Shiler needed a patient for psychological treatment, Natasha was unquestionably the first choice.

There were too many absurd points to even begin voicing. Natasha didn't know where to start—she only knew this couldn't continue. Any normal person would be driven mad after dozens of therapy sessions in a few days. The fact she hadn't gone mad only proved how professional she truly was.

"Anyway, I quit!" Natasha declared firmly. "If you make me go through another therapy session, I'll turn myself in to the IRS!"

Nick widened his eyes at her. "The IRS? I never thought those words would come out of a S. . . . . . agent's mouth! How heartless can you be?!"

"Every time I go to church and pray, I thank the IRS. It's the IRS that stopped you from cutting our insurance three times in one week. It's the IRS that gives me the courage to defy you, this corrupt boss!"

"Don't say that, Ms. Natalia. You and I both know this small sacrifice is merely…"

"Don't give me that!" Natasha was nearly furious. "Either let someone else do this job, or I quit—I'll call the KGB right now and have them send me to Siberia!"

"Alright, alright, don't get so worked up, ma'am…" Nick raised his hands to calm her. "I'll assign Agent Carter. Is that enough? But she's new—just started recently. You'll have to keep an eye on her…"

"If she reacts too strongly to Shiler, she might cause trouble. You know this is all for the greater good…"

"Enough. I'll notify her now." Natasha turned and walked out.

When Carter received the order, she was confused. What kind of mission was seeing a psychologist?

"Is this serious?" Carter held the order. "For the next week, I don't have to do anything except keep seeing psychologists? But… didn't I already get tested when I joined?"

"Agent Carter, do you remember the first rule of being an agent?" Natasha looked her in the eye.

"Listen more, watch more, ask less… Fine, I'll go. It can't be worse than waxing the helicarrier's deck." Carter set the file down and left.

Before nightfall, she rushed back to the office, grabbed Natasha, and asked: "Is something wrong here? Does this psychologist never rest? And why does he keep changing rooms and clothes? Is that part of the therapy?"

"Remember: listen more, watch more, ask less." Natasha turned back, saw Carter's confused expression, shook her head, and walked away.

In Nick Fury's office, Coulson held the newly prepared financial report and asked: "Boss, is this really okay? One Shiler handles finance, one handles experiments, another handles personnel transfers… This… this is going too far."

"What's the problem? We didn't get these Shilers through illegal means. We just used S. . . . . .'s intelligence network to identify multiple Shilers and brought them here to work for us. What's wrong with that?"

"The problem is there are too many Shilers!"

Coulson shouted. "How can there be so many Shilers?!"

"Coulson, some of your questions make me doubt your Level 8 agent rating has any merit. Remember the first rule of being an agent: listen more, watch more, ask less. What good does knowing the mechanism do? Will it fix this quarter's financial report?"

Nick spread his hands. "The first Shiler we acquired solved our next quarter's finances."

"Before this, last quarter, we hired three accountants. Two went on vacation to Moscow. One 'committed suicide' on the way there…"

"At the start of this quarter, we had zero accountants. You wanted me to hire those Russian extortionists? They even demanded a translation fee on top!"

"We found a Shiler. He took over all three accountants' duties and even proposed two financial optimization plans. God, I've never seen such a capable finance officer!"

Nick clenched his fist tightly. "If he stays here long-term, within a year we'll have a full helicarrier fleet!"

Coulson opened his mouth to speak, but Nick raised his voice again: "Then there's the second Shiler who arrived—he's a perfect physician. Brilliant skill, hardworking, and most importantly—no morals!"

Nick waved his hand emphatically. "He can participate in our illegal human experiments, and use hypnosis to extract intelligence. One man equals an entire interrogation team. If they stay long-term, we can recruit ten thousand more agents next quarter!"

"And the third Shiler who arrived—my God, I can't find enough praise. You can't imagine how much trouble he solved for me!"

"He alone manages Hydra personnel transfers and S. . . . . . field agent assignments. He created at least forty thousand agent workloads for me!"

"The missions he fabricated—and their completion rates—earned praise from Congress. They called me the best S. . . . . . director in history!"

Nick beamed with pride, but Coulson touched his conscience and felt uneasy. He said:

"The financial reports are optimized, the experiments and interrogations are illegal, the personnel are fictional, the missions are fictional, the work is fictional… What exactly are we doing here?"

Nick looked at Coulson like he was an alien. "If you keep asking stupid questions like that, next year you'll be promoted to Level 6 agent."

"What are we doing? S. . . . . . is protecting the world!"

"But we're not actually protecting the world," Coulson said reluctantly.

"I ask you—what's the purpose of protecting the world?" Nick stepped closer.

"The purpose… is obviously to protect the world," Coulson replied.

"No. The purpose of protecting the world is to make the world believe it is being protected. That's the entire meaning of S. . . . . ."

Nick shook his head. "As long as S. . . . . . exists, every government will believe someone will come to protect them when strange events occur."

"But if strange events happen and no one protects them, won't they feel disappointed?" Coulson asked.

Nick sighed again. "They never had any hope to begin with. How could they be disappointed?"

"No government believes an organization led by Americans, staffed entirely by Americans, and controlled by the U. . Congress will come to save them in a crisis. As long as we don't kick them when they're down, they'll consider us a rare fair and just organization."

In this world, no government would believe that an organization led by Americans, staffed entirely by Americans, and answerable to the U. . Congress would come to their aid in crisis; as long as we don't kick them when they're down, they'll consider it a rare fair and just organization.

Nick continued: "In truth, Congress doesn't need us to do anything. As long as we exist and are under their control, they can tell the world that America is protecting the world. That's the entire purpose of S. . . . . ."

"If you truly want to protect the world, don't rely on S. . . . . . or any organization that openly claims to protect it."

Coulson sighed. "Alright… By the way, here's this quarter's payroll. Director, you need to sign here."

Nick sat back down. Coulson placed the report on the desk. Nick picked it up casually, ready to sign—then saw the final number.

With a thud, Nick fell off his chair. "How can this be so high?! Why is S. . . . . .'s payroll this high this quarter?!"

"W-where's the payroll so high?" Nick gasped, scrambling off the floor and frantically flipping through the document. He saw the line item: "S. . . . . . Agent Psychological Treatment Costs."

Looking at the string of zeros, Nick took a deep breath—and his roar echoed across the entire S. . . . . . headquarters:

Looking at that long string of zeros, Nick took a deep breath, and his roar echoed across the entire S. . . . . . headquarters:

"Avengers assemble!"

"Assemble now!"

"Deploy everyone!"

"Arrest Shiler!"

All units, attack!

Capture Shiler!