Chapter Thirteen: The Ugly Apple Pie

From their earlier conversation, Nick Fury had already gathered that Zhong Shenxiu was not a madman. Surrounded by so many agents, he trusted that Zhong Shenxiu wouldn’t dare try anything reckless. Even so, by nature deeply suspicious, Fury was fully alert as Zhong Shenxiu drew near; should anything go awry, his reflexes would respond instantly.

When that faint green light appeared silently over his left eye, Nick Fury’s first sensation was one of warmth. How to describe it? It reminded him irresistibly of the apple pie his mother used to make at Christmas when he was a child. He loved the crispy pie crust best, and his mother would always make it extra wide just for him, using extra flour to craft those broad, ungainly edges. Each time, the family would tease her for her awkward, oversized pies, but only young Nick understood that it was her way of indulging her son’s peculiar tastes.

That tender warmth of home—buried deep within his heart—had surfaced so unexpectedly. He had thought that his long years as a secret agent had erased all trace of such memories.

It all ended abruptly after three seconds.

Nick Fury snapped back to himself, jerking his head up to glare at Zhong Shenxiu, who was just withdrawing his right hand. For a moment, Fury thought some mind-bending sorcery had been worked upon him. Yet—

He saw all the surrounding agents staring at him, shock plain in their eyes. Fury quickly realized his field of vision had changed; it was wider—broader than before. Instinctively, he reached up to cover his long-damaged right eye, but instead of the familiar abyssal darkness, what greeted him now was the long-lost light of vision.

His left eye—miraculously—had been restored!

Even for Fury, whose will was as unyielding as ancient wood, this revelation sent shockwaves through his soul. To heal wounds left by the Maw Beast—such a feat was beyond the power of almost anyone on Earth, perhaps even the entire universe. And yet, this eighteen-year-old youth had done it with seeming ease.

At last, Fury understood why so many powerful figures had become entangled in what should have been an ordinary death penalty case.

This was an ability on a cosmic scale.

In that instant, Fury’s estimation of Zhong Shenxiu underwent another profound shift.

Compared to Fury’s shock, Zhong Shenxiu himself was far more composed. He had long since realized, while healing White earlier, that his healing power was unlike the medical ninjutsu of the Hidden Leaf, which accelerated cellular regeneration to repair wounds. His own healing resembled something more like a reversal of time—forcing the “concept of injury” back to the state before harm was ever done.

If anything, it was akin to Orihime Inoue’s ability in “Bleach.”

After eleven days of healing prisoners, Zhong Shenxiu’s belief in this theory had only grown stronger, which was precisely why he was so confident in restoring Nick Fury’s sight.

“So, what do you say? Can you accept my proposal?” Zhong Shenxiu prompted, seeing that Fury had been silent for so long.

At last, Fury replied, “I can.”

He then turned to Coulson and said, “Take him to process his release, and personally see him home.” He placed a heavy emphasis on “personally.”

“Yes, boss,” Coulson answered, and then offered Zhong Shenxiu a warm smile. “Mr. Zhong, please come with me.”

—

From behind the window, Nick Fury watched as Coulson drove Zhong Shenxiu out through the prison gates. Only then did he turn to Agent Hill at his side and say:

“Upgrade Zhong Shenxiu’s personal file to security level ten.”

“Yes, sir,” Agent Hill replied, tapping swiftly at her portable computer.

Then, as if from nowhere, Fury produced a pitch-black USB drive and plugged it into the warden’s computer. He opened it.

A long list of meticulously organized files appeared on the screen. Fury opened them, one by one, and read them carefully.

The drive contained evidence from Zhong Shenxiu’s case. Zhong had been imprisoned and sentenced to death for murder. Yet every piece of evidence here—alibis, witness statements, testimonies, surveillance footage—clearly indicated that Zhong Shenxiu had nothing whatsoever to do with the murder.

If this evidence were presented to the chief justices across New York, Zhong Shenxiu would be acquitted beyond any doubt.

And that was exactly what Fury had done.

This was why he had dared to intervene so boldly, even knowing how many powerful interests were watching Zhong Shenxiu’s death sentence. He was unafraid of making enemies—what he feared was that, when crisis struck, there would be no one left to defend Earth.

But why was Fury reviewing these documents again now?

That was linked to a secret—one he had never shared with anyone:

This USB drive was not his.

Nor had he, nor S.H.I.E.L.D., compiled these files.

Twelve days earlier, in the early hours of the morning, Fury had returned to his Washington headquarters office to find a USB drive inexplicably placed on his desk. Reviewing security footage, he saw no evidence that anyone had entered his office. Yet there the drive was, as if conjured from thin air. When he opened it, he found this evidence, and learned that someone named Zhong Shenxiu was about to be unjustly executed at Sing Sing Prison in New York.

He had then looked up Zhong Shenxiu’s personal information, discovering the video he’d later shown Zhong himself, and realized this person possessed the power to heal superhuman abilities.

His interest only grew.

He even visited the hospital to question Skrull Agent, who had been undercover at Sing Sing and was now severely injured. Upon returning, Fury dug deeper, finally uncovering the turbulent currents beneath the world’s quiet surface.

So many powerful individuals were, in one way or another, connected to this death penalty case.

Fury immediately began sending the evidence from the USB drive to New York’s chief justices. The greater the power, the more legitimate the justification required—this was why Fury, rarely, chose to follow proper legal channels, though he expedited the process.

He also prepared a backup plan; if this proved inadequate, he was ready to take the evidence straight to the President. Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary. That very morning, he had received notice of Zhong Shenxiu’s exoneration, which was why he had come to the prison himself.

Though he suspected that whoever left the USB drive had intended to use him to save Zhong Shenxiu, Fury trusted his own judgment. Given Zhong Shenxiu’s abilities, he was worth saving.

Fury had always entertained the idea of forming a team of superpowered youths. While Zhong Shenxiu’s powers were not suited for combat, properly utilized, they could prove even more valuable than the destructive abilities of other superhumans.

Whether or not Zhong joined the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division after his release was of little concern.

That earlier scene had simply been Fury’s way of testing Zhong Shenxiu’s abilities.

And besides, who said someone couldn’t be watched simply because they weren’t officially part of the organization?

—

“19 Ingram Street, Queens, New York.”

Zhong Shenxiu sat in the passenger seat, studying the address on his driver’s license.

The more he looked, the more familiar it seemed.

Queens... Could this be the same Queens where Spider-Man lived?

As it turned out, there was only one Queens in all of New York.