Chapter Twelve: You Are in No Position to Negotiate with Me

"But I refuse." Zhong Shenxiu shook his head, turning down Nick Fury's invitation.

Join S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent? That would just be moving from one prison to another. He wasn't Tony Stark, with money to burn and the kind of connections that made him practically S.H.I.E.L.D. royalty.

Others could mess around in S.H.I.E.L.D., bugging rooms, planting spyware—Fury would turn a blind eye. But Zhong Shenxiu was just an ordinary person with no background. If he really joined S.H.I.E.L.D., they'd start brainwashing him from day one at the academy, drilling it in again and again, until Fury decided he was sufficiently molded—a machine-like agent, absolutely obedient, in a rigid hierarchy.

That was a double imprisonment of body and mind, far more terrifying than Xingge Prison.

"Then you'll return to prison and be executed in ten days. I doubt the electric chair will malfunction again by then," Fury replied.

Zhong Shenxiu's refusal was unexpected. Fury had thought he controlled the conversation entirely. Zhong Shenxiu's response was not what he had anticipated.

But Fury quickly settled on a new tactic: the threat of execution.

After all, who isn't afraid to die?

When Fury laid the death penalty on the table, Zhong Shenxiu finally understood what the system meant by "opportunity" earlier:

In twelve days, Nick Fury would come to Xingge Prison, and it would be through this bald-headed man that Zhong Shenxiu would have a chance to get out.

But the reason it was described as a chance, rather than a certainty, was because everything depended on Zhong Shenxiu himself. His words and actions would determine what shape that opportunity would ultimately take.

At this moment, it seemed there were two possible outcomes ahead.

One: he accepted Fury’s offer, joined S.H.I.E.L.D., and walked free.

Two: he refused, stayed in prison, and awaited execution.

Neither outcome was acceptable to him.

Therefore, he needed to forge a third path!

"Of course," Zhong Shenxiu agreed at first, then gently changed tack: "But I have a suggestion. Let's both compromise a little. You get me out of prison, and I go back to my life. If you ever have anyone injured, you can come to me for treatment—I won't refuse."

"Of course, the first few times will be free. After that, I'll have to charge. A small business has to survive, after all."

Since his healing power was now in the open, why not use it as his bargaining chip?

As long as the true extent of his mutated healing ability stayed secret, he didn't care what else was exposed. This was why, even when he saw footage of himself using the skill, he hadn't panicked.

On the surface, this proposal might seem like a loss for Zhong Shenxiu, but only he knew the truth. Fury's agents, the superpowered individuals he came into contact with, and eventually the Avengers—these were all extraordinary people with an array of talents.

If he could establish a long-term partnership and leverage his healing power, he could reap endless benefits.

So this seemingly mutual compromise was, for Zhong Shenxiu, an all-out win.

Seeing this eighteen-year-old negotiating with him, Fury let out a mocking laugh, his white teeth flashing. Then his expression hardened.

"I think you're mistaken. You’re not in a position to bargain with me. I have access to the best doctors in the world. What injury can’t be healed?"

"Then why haven't your 'best doctors' fixed your one good eye?" Zhong Shenxiu interrupted, raising a hand and pointing at Fury’s black eyepatch.

Fury was momentarily at a loss for words.

Of course he had tried to heal his eye. But it had been wounded by one of the most terrifying creatures in the universe—a Flerken. Whether he replaced the retina or even tried transplanting a cloned eyeball, nothing restored his sight. It was as if some god had whispered above him: From now on, Nick Fury’s left eye shall never see again.

"You can do it?" Fury challenged.

Zhong Shenxiu nodded. "Of course. For a minor injury like this, I only need three seconds."

Fury remained skeptical, thinking this arrogant kid had no idea how strange and stubborn his injury really was.

But Zhong Shenxiu took a step forward, moving toward Fury.

Step by step.

Fury's face remained impassive.

Step by step.

Click—click—click—click—

The sound of guns being cocked exploded through the warden’s office. In an instant, agents seemed to materialize out of nowhere, surrounding Zhong Shenxiu, the black barrels of their weapons trained on him without mercy.

Zhong Shenxiu glanced around.

There was Phil Coulson, famous in the Avengers for his kindness; Maria Hill, a level-nine agent; and other familiar faces from the movies.

All of them now stood by his side, guns drawn, eyes cold and expressionless.

Quite the show of force...

Zhong Shenxiu couldn't help but marvel inwardly. He would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but he understood as long as he said nothing wrong, those guns wouldn’t fire.

Raising his hands, Zhong Shenxiu spoke to Fury: "You seem skeptical. I just wanted to demonstrate."

Fury didn't answer him directly. Instead, he called out, "Coulson."

The ever-polite Phil Coulson immediately understood. He holstered his gun, drew a sharp little knife, and slashed his left palm.

The skin split, blood gushed out, but Coulson didn’t even flinch. He stepped forward, hand outstretched, wearing his trademark gentle smile. "Please treat me, sir."

Seeing Coulson’s unhesitating compliance, Zhong Shenxiu couldn't help but admire these agents' discipline.

He extended his right hand, holding it about eight inches above Coulson’s wound, silently activating his healing skill.

A green glow lasted but a second, then faded.

And Coulson’s palm was as good as new.

He even held his hand up to his eyes, inspecting it carefully. There was no trace of the wound, not even the scars that had accumulated over the years.

He then offered his left hand to Agent Hill for her inspection.

A moment later, both agents maintained their professional calm, but the slight widening of their eyes betrayed their shock.

"Well, do you believe me now? No doctor on earth could achieve this. Even someone at death’s door—as long as they’re breathing—I can bring them back," Zhong Shenxiu said.

"So, the choice is yours. Help me walk free, and I’ll happily cooperate with you for treatment going forward."

Returning tit for tat. Just as Fury had threatened him with the death penalty, now Zhong Shenxiu was threatening Fury in turn, using his healing power as leverage.

Fury’s single eye narrowed.

He removed his eyepatch, revealing the ghastly white orb beneath.

"Try healing this," he said.

He wanted to see whether Zhong Shenxiu’s bargaining chip was merely of earthly value—or something that could shake the universe itself.