Nick Fury-nicknamed the "Black Braised Egg" behind his back—had learned his lesson this time. When things went wrong, he knew to call for help early. If something truly uncontrollable happened, it would be too late to save himself. Better to deal with criminals using minimal cost and maximum efficiency.
Sure enough, the black stewed egg was still the same as ever.
"Top floor of Stark Industries."
"On my way."
There was a lively party underway on the top floor of the Stark Industries building.
In one of the rooms, Nick hung up his phone, frowning.
"Tell me what's going on?"
A sudden voice startled him.
He looked up quickly—and there stood a man in a black cloak right in front of him. The Bounty Hunter. Had this guy been here the whole time? How had he not noticed his presence before? After a brief shock, Nick calmed himself. This was typical of Blaine. The man could appear or vanish at will, move through time and space, even stop time itself. Fury knew him too well—exactly why he'd called him now.
Outside, the party music thumped, lights flashing across the room. Blaine looked through the glass with mild confusion. Everything looked perfectly normal.
"Isn't this just a party? You called me here for this? Shouldn't I be out there drinking with them—or making sure they get home when they pass out?" He squinted at the crowd. "Judging by how things look, Ultron probably hasn't even met J.A.R.V.I.S. yet."
"Huh? How should I put this…" Nick hesitated.
"The truth," Blaine said flatly.
"Oh my god, Mr. Hunter really doesn't beat around the bush. Fine, I'll say it straight."
"If I'm not mistaken, the Avengers just raided a HYDRA base and recovered Loki's scepter. You already know that, don't you?"
"I know," Blaine replied casually. "What's that got to do with this?"
Nick stiffened. How the hell did he already know that? Did he have surveillance on S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers?
"Stop pretending. Let's get to the part about our cooperation," Blaine said dryly.
Nick coughed awkwardly, forcing himself to focus.
"I don't know why, but ever since they came back, I've had a bad feeling. An ominous premonition. I can't explain it, and I don't know why. Maybe it's because I've been in this chair too long—my nerves are fried."
"You called me just because of a bad feeling? When did you lose your mind?" Blaine asked bluntly.
"I'm not joking, I'm serious—especially about Tony. Ever since he returned, I've been on edge. My right eyelid keeps twitching."
"There's a saying.," Blaine said. "Left eye for money, right eye for disaster. So you think something big's coming soon?"
Nick nodded gravely.
"So you're hiring me in advance, hoping it'll be cheaper later," Blaine muttered.
"Mr. Hunter, you're really too sharp. I admire your intelligence, truly—ashamed before your brilliance—"
"Stop it. You know my fee."
"Name your price."
"Two hundred billion dollars. Not a cent less."
The old fox really was an old fox. Fury had come prepared, and Blaine knew it. He'd been planning to cash in later—once Ultron appeared and chaos erupted—but apparently, Fury's sixth sense had kicked in early. The man was sharper than anyone gave him credit for.
"Deal."
"Huh? Wait—okay? You realize I said two hundred *billion*, not twenty *billion*?"
Blaine nearly fell off his chair. He had only tossed out that number to scare Fury off and maybe negotiate higher later. But Fury had agreed—just like that?
He'd planned to use the absurd amount as leverage, to drive the price up slowly. Now, he'd trapped himself with his own greed.
Old fox indeed. You walk by the river long enough, and your shoes are bound to get wet. Hunt geese long enough, and one day you'll get pecked.
"Yes," Fury said firmly. "Deal."
"No bargaining?" Blaine asked, still stunned.
"Mr. Hunter is worth every penny."
This time, Fury wasn't playing games. If trouble was coming, he'd rather spend the money now than deal with the fallout later. Hiring Blaine was expensive, but it was insurance—the best kind there was.
"Well, fine. I'll take the job," Blaine said at last, resigned.
He'd dug his own hole, and now he had to lie in it. For the first time, he understood Fury's earlier frustration—the pain of being too clever for your own good.
"So it's settled. If nothing happens, does that count as mission failure?"
"Don't worry," Blaine replied coolly. "Integrity is everything in my business. If nothing happens, I'll only take half."
"Uh… okay," Fury said hesitantly.
In truth, he was already planning to avoid paying at all if nothing went wrong. A hundred billion was still no small sum.
Of course, Blaine didn't bother to tell him—his hunch was right. And what was coming would happen soon.
"The party's begun, Mr. Hunter," Fury said. "Please, stay alert."
Meaning: stay here, enjoy the party—but keep your eyes open.
"Understood," Blaine replied.
Take someone's money, solve their problems—that was the rule. With a flicker of teleportation energy, he appeared in the main hall.
Seeing Blaine materialize outside, Fury finally exhaled. Yet, for some reason, his right eyelid twitched even harder.
Could his instincts be right?
"Please," he muttered, rubbing his temple, "let it just be my nerves."
Because if the Bounty Hunter had to make a move… that meant something truly big was about to happen. And that was exactly what Nick wanted to avoid.
But for now, at least, he could rest a little easier. If anyone could stop a disaster, it was Blaine—the one man who seemed to know everything and could do anything.
If gods existed in this world, the Bounty Hunter was proof.
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