Chapter 54

“Understood, understood...”

Fury cleared his throat twice to mask the awkward atmosphere.

“Good, our S.H.I.E.L.D. is dedicated to protecting humanity from extraterrestrial threats.” To bridge the gap, Fury followed his line of thought: “From this perspective, our goals are the same, Mr. Valthus.”

“Is that so?” Alvin’s eyes lit up as if he’d found an interesting topic: “You also believe all beings other than humans should be eradicated, right?”

You seem a bit too extreme... Fury tugged at his mouth, speaking dryly: “Your idea... is admirable, worth acknowledging—but isn’t it a bit extreme?”

“No, Mr. Fury, I do not accept your view.”

Alvin’s expression turned solemn, like a devout yet fanatical believer: “All heretics must be utterly exterminated—only then can humanity’s purity be guaranteed!”

This time, Coulson and Black Widow were startled by the intensity of his tone.

“Aren’t you being a bit too radical?” Coulson grew uneasy; if the Director truly brought this kid in, he feared it might unleash a disaster.

“Radical? No, no, no,” Alvin sighed with regret: “I often regret not being conservative enough.”

“That’s great—sometimes, sheer rigidity isn’t the right choice.”

Fury exhaled inwardly; at least the boy wasn’t beyond redemption—he understood that dealing with aliens required caution.

“Yes, you’re right.” Alvin nodded in agreement, speaking slowly: “But what can I do? I simply lack sufficient radicalism.”

“wht？？？”

Fury and the two others stared, utterly confused by the meaning of those words.

The man who constantly spoke of exterminating all non-human life to preserve human purity was now claiming he wasn’t radical enough?

Wait... your “conservative” doesn’t by any chance mean the radicals aren’t radical enough, and are thus too cautious, does it?

“Mr. Valthus, exactly where are you from?” Fury asked instinctively.

“Believe me, you wouldn’t want to know.”

Alvin wore a cryptic smile as he tapped his finger on the table: “Enough small talk. It’s time to discuss real business, Director Fury.”

Fortunately, Fury had no intention of probing further; he looked Alvin squarely in the eye: “The truth is, you may not realize how complex this world truly is—it hides countless dangers. S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded to establish humanity’s first—and last—line of defense!”

“Go on...”

Alvin sipped his iced Americano, his expression indifferent, seemingly uninterested.

“Lately, more and more people like you have been appearing.”

Fury handed over a file: “In this very city beneath us, there’s a doctor turned into a lizard by gene therapy, a student mutated by a spider bite, and the Shadowhand ninja faction in Hell’s Kitchen—yet these... are merely the tip of the iceberg!”

Shadowhand?

Alvin’s interest slightly stirred—he recalled this organization had stolen the “Immortal Dragon Bone” from Kunlun.

“We sense the world is undergoing a drastic transformation!”

Fury’s voice grew low and grave as he clasped his hands tightly: “Thus, to prepare for the coming catastrophe, S.H.I.E.L.D. plans to form a special unit—its mission: to unite forces and confront powerful, unknown enemies threatening Earth and humanity!”

Alvin stared blankly for a full half-minute, then pointed at his own chest in disbelief: “So... you’re asking me to join this team?”

Logically, he’d expected Fury to seek him out—perhaps even suspect or investigate him—but he never imagined he’d be invited to join the Avengers!

Something’s off. Extremely, profoundly off.

With Nick Fury’s paranoid nature, something’s wrong here.

“Both of you, step outside for now.”

Seeing Alvin’s suspicion, Fury seemed to sense something; he turned to Coulson and Black Widow.

Though confused, they obeyed the Director’s order and took up guard outside the café.

At that moment, Fury removed his listening earpiece. Under Alvin’s puzzled gaze, he solemnly withdrew a worn iron box from his coat.

“What is this?”

Alvin asked, puzzled.

“You can open it and see.”

Fury pushed the iron box toward him, smiling mysteriously.

From its appearance alone, the box clearly bore the marks of long years—rusty, worn, and seemingly harmless.

Alvin hesitated slightly, then opened the rusted iron box.

Inside, wrapped in soft silk, lay a golden medal.

The medal hung from a pure white ribbon; though the design was unfamiliar to Alvin, the skull symbolizing human purity, combined with the sun, wings, and gear motifs, made his heart freeze—his blood surged violently to his skull!

“Where did you get this?!”

Alvin forcibly controlled his nearly uncontrollable emotions and asked in a low voice.

He didn’t recognize the medal—but the skull, the gear, and the pure ribbon—he knew them all too well!

Aside from the Warhammer universe, Alvin couldn’t imagine any other group using a human skull, gear, and wings as a medal’s distinctive emblem!

But the problem is... why does a Warhammer medal appear in the Marvel universe?

“I don’t know.”

Yet Fury’s answer left Alvin stunned.

Meeting Alvin’s skeptical gaze, Fury sipped his coffee before speaking slowly: “In truth, I still don’t know the medal’s origin. I only felt intuitively that it was important—someone asked me to deliver it to someone who recognizes it.”

He gave Alvin a meaningful look, then set down his cup: “Now it seems I didn’t make a mistake—you are the rightful owner of this medal, Alvin Valthus!”

“Wait—if you don’t know its origin, why give it to me?”

Alvin was even more confused; his mind spun in chaos.

“I’m a spy, Mr. Valthus.”

Fury smiled: “In my decades as a spy, I’ve never placed such weight on a single medal. I suspect my lost memories were deliberately erased. Though I don’t know why, if the man I was before the erasure trusted him, then I trust him too—this medal must hold significance.”

“Then how are you certain it’s me?”

Alvin found this stranger still—this medal didn’t specify a recipient. How could Fury be sure he was the one?

“You’re not the first, Mr. Valthus.”

Fury spoke calmly: “In fact, before you, I suspected over a dozen others—but sadly, none recognized the medal’s origin upon seeing it.”

“How do you know they didn’t recognize it? Couldn’t they have pretended?” Alvin pressed.

“Remember—I’m a spy.” Fury pointed to his eyes and smiled: “I can’t claim perfect accuracy, but at least 90% of people can’t deceive these eyes.”

He paused, then continued: “Besides, this medal has no special properties—it’s just a medal. Even if someone else obtained it, it would serve no purpose. Only in the hands of the right person does it fulfill its true function... though perhaps it has no function at all, and is merely a medal. These are all my speculations.”

In truth... he had studied this medal.

But no matter how hard S.H.I.E.L.D. analyzed it, the medal remained utterly ordinary.

Thus, Fury speculated that perhaps the medal only revealed its purpose when returned to its true owner.

“Now, it’s yours, Mr. Valthus.”

Fury pushed the iron box toward Alvin: “In doing so, I’ve fulfilled my promise.”

“How long have you kept this thing?”

Alvin frowned, suddenly asking.

Fury seemed lost in memory; he fell silent for half a minute before speaking in a hoarse voice: “Since 1963. Exactly forty-five years.”