Chapter Fourteen: Release from Prison

Queens, New York.

By the mailbox marked 19 on Ingram Street.

Coulson took a business card from his pocket, handed it to Zhong Shenxiu with a smile, and said, “Mr. Zhong, here’s my contact information. If you run into any trouble, don’t hesitate to reach out to me.”

Zhong Shenxiu nodded and accepted the card. He was well aware that even if he didn’t contact them, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would arrive on the scene the moment anything happened. Knowing Nick Fury’s character, he expected no shortage of surveillance in the days to come. Still, this was preferable to prison or to joining S.H.I.E.L.D. only to be brainwashed.

“Well then, I’ll be going. Mr. Zhong, have a wonderful day.” With that gentle smile, Coulson boarded the old Ford and drove away.

Come to think of it, in his previous life, Coulson truly deserved his “nice guy” reputation. He was genuinely kind and courteous. Along the way, Zhong Shenxiu tried to probe for information under the guise of casual conversation, but Coulson always answered politely without betraying a single secret of S.H.I.E.L.D. His professionalism and discretion were both impeccable.

Zhong Shenxiu glanced up at the somewhat rundown yard before him. The wooden fence had been painted white, but the peeling paint betrayed its age. The lawn in front of the house, long neglected, was overgrown and messy. Litter danced along the street, and the dark green trash bins overflowed, ignored by all.

Yet after the monotony and orderliness of prison, this disorder felt like a breath of life to Zhong Shenxiu.

So… he was out.

There was an unreal quality to it all, a sense of disbelief. Just a few days ago, he had been in his cell, wracking his brain for ways to escape. The thought of breaking out had seemed impossible—he wasn’t clever enough to talk his way out, nor strong enough to fight his way free. Ever since the Rhino’s escape attempt, security at Seagate Prison had been ramped up by several notches.

And yet today, after just a brief conversation with Nick Fury and revealing his bargaining chips twice, he had managed to walk out, completely legally, no less. That was the power of S.H.I.E.L.D.

He couldn’t know, of course, that even though his release appeared effortless, Nick Fury himself had been running around for days to make it happen.

From the bag containing his personal effects, handed to him by a prison guard, Zhong Shenxiu took his house key. He pushed open the creaking gate and stepped inside.

Chaos greeted him. Household items lay strewn across the floor, the sofa overturned, the whole place looking as if a gang of thieves had ransacked it. Yet when he checked, he found all his electronics and valuables—watches, jewelry, and the like—still in place.

Which meant: it definitely wasn’t a burglar.

He could also largely rule out S.H.I.E.L.D.; their agents were far too skilled to leave such a mess.

No, this looked more like a group of burly mercenaries had brazenly rummaged through his house in search of something.

Whether anything was missing, he couldn’t say—he had no memory of the life of his body’s previous owner. Still, Zhong Shenxiu couldn’t help rubbing his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Clearly, the original owner had crossed some bigwigs in the Marvel universe.

He’d realized as much ever since the death sentence incident three months ago. So even now, free from prison, his situation remained grim. All signs pointed to someone out there watching him for reasons he didn’t understand.

And S.H.I.E.L.D. was no safe haven. His relationship with them was purely transactional. He had demonstrated his value—his healing abilities—to Nick Fury, and Fury had repaid him with freedom, a reward commensurate with his worth.

It couldn’t be plainer: a business deal, nothing more.

If someone appeared whom even Nick Fury couldn’t handle, S.H.I.E.L.D. would drop him in a heartbeat, he was sure. It was harsh, but it was rational—and if Zhong Shenxiu were in Fury’s shoes, he’d do the same.

So, in the end, he could only rely on himself.

Now that he was out, he needed to grow stronger as quickly as possible.

“System, open personal panel.”

A glance at his panel showed the countdown at the corner of his vision had finally vanished—he was truly free of the death sentence threat.

His combat power, though, remained at thirteen points, likely because he hadn’t yet converted his mastery of magic into offensive capability. But with the main story mission complete, a new line had appeared under his active abilities: “Synthesis Technique: 1+1=3.”

Zhong Shenxiu tapped to view the description.

1+1=3 Synthesis Technique: Did you know that, philosophically speaking, 1+1 is not always equal to 2? Sometimes it’s more than 2; sometimes, less. When two complementary things are combined, they can produce a force greater than the sum of their parts—a realm that transcends “2” and reaches “3.” This principle applies not only to people, but also to abilities.

Current combinable abilities: Firearms Mastery + Street Fighting + Intermediate Boxing = ???; Rogue Mastery + ??? = ???

So, this “1+1=3 Synthesis Technique” was essentially the skill synthesis system found in most games.

Only, in games, skill fusion could be hit-or-miss. From the description, Zhong Shenxiu understood that each time he fused abilities, the result would always be stronger than the originals.

What was there to hesitate about? Of course he should combine them.

“Synthesize Firearms Mastery, Street Fighting, and Intermediate Boxing.”

[Affirmative, host. Please wait… Synthesis complete. New ability: Gun Combat Mastery.]

At the instant the synthesis succeeded, a torrent of combat knowledge flooded Zhong Shenxiu’s mind. His body felt as though it had been through countless battles; his control over every muscle had reached a new pinnacle.

He picked up a cardboard tube nearby, wielding it as a pistol. With a thought, he began flowing through perfect, practised maneuvers, executing moves that belonged to a true expert. Every shot, every movement was fluid and deadly—he almost felt invincible, even if he was just holding a cardboard tube.

His combat power rose to fifteen points.

He had to admit, this Synthesis Technique was an excellent new feature. It solved the problem of accumulating too many disparate abilities and ending up with a mess of useless skills. With this, even the most lackluster of talents could, with enough time, be refined into something powerful—an approach that would greatly shape Zhong Shenxiu’s future plans, in a highly positive way.

“Hey, Xiu! You’re back—haven’t seen you in three months!”

A man in his thirties or forties called out with a hearty laugh upon spotting Zhong Shenxiu in the house. Without the least bit of hesitation, he strode into the yard and walked right up to him.

Seeing Zhong Shenxiu’s look of surprise, he grinned and pointed to the tall building next door. “What’s wrong, don’t recognize me just because I shaved my mustache? I’m Ben Parker, your neighbor at number 20.”

At that, Zhong Shenxiu came back to himself and smiled in return. “How could I not recognize you? I was just distracted, lost in thought.”

Ben Parker—Peter Parker’s uncle!

My God, the original owner had been Spider-Man’s neighbor. Judging by Ben’s casual manner, the two families must have been on pretty good terms.

If that was the case, Zhong Shenxiu thought, he’d better act more familiar.

“It’s been, what, almost three months? You just vanished without a word. I thought you’d ended up in jail,” Ben joked.

“No way, I just had to go home unexpectedly,” Zhong Shenxiu replied offhandedly.

“Oh, so you went back home? How’s the burger in New Mexico? I hear they’re spicier than the ones here in New York.”

He even knew the original owner was from New Mexico. Clearly, their relationship really was close.

“Come on, Xiu. Haven’t had Mei’s cooking in three months, right? I bought some fresh beef today, and Mei’s making dinner now. Come eat with us tonight—Peter will be glad to see you too,” Ben invited.

“Alright,” Zhong Shenxiu nodded, following Ben.

It was perfect timing—he’d just returned, had no groceries at home, and nowhere to eat. Besides, he was curious to meet Spider-Man himself.

According to the MCU timeline, it was 2008. Peter Parker should still be a little kid.