Chapter 7
Unlucky Coulson, Honest Red Bean Bun?
"Have a seat, Coulson."
Li Ang pointed to the chair opposite him, where a cup of steaming black tea had already been placed.
Colson's pupils constricted slightly.
The other party knew his name.
This is not surprising; although S.H.I.E.L.D. is secretive, it is not a secret in certain circles.
Strangely, the other party's attitude was too casual, as if they were greeting a neighbor.
"It seems you've conducted a background check on me?"
Coulson walked into the store, and although the door was open, his muscles remained tense.
"Don't be nervous, violence is prohibited here."
Li Ang seemed to see through his thoughts. "As for a background check? It's not necessary."
"I know exactly how many donuts Nick Fury ate for breakfast today, if I wanted to."
"Two, even though the doctor advised him to give up sugar," Li Ang added.
Coulson remained silent.
This is a show of force.
There was no display of superpowers, yet it was a chilling intimidation.
He walked to the counter, but instead of sitting down, his gaze swept over the only item in the store: the bizarrely designed gashapon machine.
"Did Mr. Stark obtain that suit of armor here?"
Coulson cut to the chase and asked tentatively.
"You mean that Kuuga?"
Leon shrugged. "That's luck. Mr. Stark is incredibly lucky. As for you..."
Li Ang looked Coulson up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment on the shiny forehead.
"It seems like he's one of those unlucky players who only get the guaranteed pity reward when drawing cards."
Although Coulson didn't understand the online gaming terms like "European Emperor" and "African Emperor," his intuition told him that these weren't compliments.
"We are very interested in your technology."
Coulson quoted S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official rhetoric: "This technology, which can grant ordinary people superpowers, would cause enormous disaster if it fell into the wrong hands..."
"stop."
Li Ang raised his hand to interrupt him, his smile fading slightly.
"First, it wasn't about technology, it was about opportunity."
"Secondly, I'm just a gashapon seller. As for who buys them and what they do with them—whether it's to save the world or blow up the White House—that's outside the scope of after-sales service."
Li Ang leaned forward slightly, instantly creating a sense of oppression.
"Third, put away your arrogance of wanting to oversee the whole world. To me, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. is no different from a beggar on the street."
Li Ang paused for a moment, then pointed to the POS machine next to him.
"The only difference is whether or not you can afford it."
Coulson was rendered speechless, realizing that the usual official pressure tactics were ineffective here.
This shop, or rather this person named Li Ang, is completely outside the existing rules.
"All right."
Coulson gave a wry smile, finally sat down in the chair, picked up the cup of black tea and took a sip. "Since it's a shop, I'll follow the rules."
He pulled a black card from the inside pocket of his suit jacket; it was a high-level S.H.I.E.L.D. funding card with an astonishing limit.
"How much per session?"
"Ten thousand US dollars, one shot."
Li Ang raised a finger, his professional fake smile returning, even brighter than before.
"What? Ten thousand US dollars?"
Coulson's eyebrow twitched. Although his salary was considerable, he couldn't afford to squander it like this, could he?
Ten thousand US dollars is enough to support a family for half a year.
"Don't worry, Nick Fury will cover the cost. After all, compared to an Iron Man suit or a super soldier serum, this is a steal."
Li Ang pushed the POS machine in front of Coulson, like a devil tempting Faust.
"Come on, Agent Coulson."
"Let's see if your luck is good enough to match your potential as an Avenger babysitter."
Coulson didn't understand the meaning of the second half of the sentence, but he really had no other choice at the moment.
He had to bring something back, even if it was just an empty plastic eggshell, to report back to the research department.
"Let's do it then."
drop.
Card swipe successful.
The gashapon machine started spinning, and the cheerful background music echoed in the small shop, making Coulson's eardrums ache.
"Is this music... really necessary?" Coulson couldn't help but complain.
"It's about ritual; you wouldn't understand."
Li Ang stared intently at the exit; he was also very curious.
As a tragic hero who was extremely popular in the original work but ultimately died under Loki's scepter, what will Coulson get from this gacha?
Click.
A blue gashapon capsule rolled out.
"blue?"
Coulson blinked, a rare moment of blankness appearing on his face.
What lies inside the gashapon shell is not high technology, not serum, and not a miniature nuclear bomb.
That was... a steamed bun?
Its skin is white and tender, with delicate wrinkles, and it even exudes an enticing sweet aroma of red beans.
"This is... ten thousand US dollars?"
Coulson's voice sounded a little unsteady.
He'd signed plenty of outrageous expense reports in his life, but a $10,000 breakfast expense would definitely send the finance department chasing him for three blocks with a frying pan.
"No, no, no, Agent Coulson, don't judge my merchandise with such worldly standards."
Li Ang smiled and shook a finger, his eyes filled with the kind of affection one might have for a country bumpkin.
"This is an honest red bean paste bun."
"Honest...red bean bun?"
Coulson repeated the name, still looking completely bewildered.
Have you heard of Doraemon? It's okay if you haven't.
Li Ang leaned against the counter, looking like a quack doctor peddling miracle drugs.
"Just one bite, and even if you're a highly trained top agent, even if you're as stubborn as a mule, you'll instantly turn into an honest baby."
"In this world full of lies, the truth is the most expensive luxury."
Leon looked at Coulson meaningfully, "Imagine if you fed it to Hydra prisoners? Or to your bureau chief who talks a lot of nonsense?"
Coulson's heart skipped a beat.
Feed it to the bureau chief?
This rebellious thought flashed through his mind, but was immediately suppressed by his professional ethics.
"Does it really work?"
Coulson maintained his last shred of sanity.
"Everything produced in our store is guaranteed to be of the highest quality."
"However, the validity period is only five minutes, and..."
Li Ang pointed to the steaming buns, "It's best to eat them while they're hot, otherwise they'll get hard when they cool down."
Coulson took a deep breath, pulled a transparent evidence bag from his pocket, and carefully placed the priceless red bean bun inside.
His movements were so meticulous, as if he were handling a bomb that could explode at any moment.
Thank you for your patronage. Welcome to visit us again.
Li Ang waved goodbye to his guests.
Watching Coulson's hurried departure, Li Ang's smile deepened.
"S.H.I.E.L.D....this is going to be interesting."