In the early morning, the street was silent. As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the mist, the street welcomed another morning—a busy morning.
New York was a big city. Although it was still early, office workers were already stepping out of their homes, heading to work.
At this moment, everything on the street was bathed in gentle morning light. The trees along the roadside bowed their heads to greet the dawn. The street was quiet.
Yet the street was still filled with pedestrians and vehicles. Only a few cars were shuttling back and forth.
Suddenly, a long black dragon appeared on the horizon. Dozens of specially modified bulletproof SUVs formed a convoy, escorting a container-loaded truck, imposing and dominating the entire road.
Seeing this scene, all vehicles yielded, and pedestrians began taking photos one after another.
It was magnificent, something to show off.
The convoy seemed to have been on the road for a long time. Thick dew had left many marks on the vehicles, yet the convoy showed no signs of stopping, continuing forward steadily.
"Sir, have they arrived yet?" an agent asked a middle-aged agent with a receding hairline.
"To be precise—we have arrived," the slicked-back-haired agent replied, eyes fixed on the view outside the window.
"Should we order the convoy to stop?"
"Not yet. Have them circle along this street first."
"Yes, sir!"
Although he was puzzled by why his superior would do this, he didn't ask. He believed his superior had his own reasoning.
After giving the command through the intercom, he drove along the street, weaving back and forth.
The receding-hairline agent frowned as he closely examined everything outside the window. His gaze was fixed intensely on the street numbers, disbelief written across his face.
Just then, static crackled through the intercom, and someone contacted him.
He frowned and picked it up.
"What's going on?"
"Coulson, what are you doing? Why are you circling around after arriving? Don't you know this increases the risk?" A gentle voice scolded him over the intercom.
On the other end, inside an SUV, sat a stunning woman with wine-red hair, an angelic face and a devilish figure. Dressed in a black leather jacket, she wore an expression of displeasure.
"I know, but there's a little problem!"
"What problem?" the woman asked, frowning.
"I can't find the other person's house. It's like it vanished into thin air!"
"Coulson, seriously?"
The beautiful woman straightened her posture, her graceful figure accentuated, her face now serious.
"I'm not joking. I really can't find it!"
Wrong address?
"No, I've confirmed it at least ten times, but it doesn't matter. The street is the same, but the place we're going is gone!"
How could that be?
"It's true!"
"Then use GPS positioning—it should work!" The woman suggested.
Coulson stopped thinking and agreed it was a good idea. He had the agent in the car turn on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custom GPS locator, input the specific location, and begin tracking.
After a few seconds, the agent in Coulson's car said in disbelief, "Sir, I think you need to see this yourself!"
Hearing that, Coulson's eyes immediately turned to the GPS screen. What he saw stunned him.
The screen showed—they had arrived at the destination. The address was correct. The destination was right in front of their eyes, something they could see with their very own eyes.
But to them—it didn't exist.
"What on earth is happening?" Coulson's mouth fell open. Something was very strange.
After reporting the situation to the beautiful woman on the other end of the intercom, Coulson began waiting for her response.
"Do you think this might be a trap? Or maybe the other party used some special ability to distort our perception?"
"That's… possible, to some extent!"
"In that case, have the convoy stop. I'll run a test."
"Be careful!"
"Alright!"
The woman said, then got out of the SUV and walked toward the GPS location.
"It really… doesn't exist?"
She frowned, but didn't rush to test it. Instead, she thought for a moment, returned to the SUV, grabbed a coat from an agent, tore it into pieces, and walked back to where she had been.
Then, without hesitation, she tossed the pieces of cloth directly at the empty space.
The scraps fluttered like butterflies, scattering across the area.
Then, something magical happened. After drifting for a while, some scraps vanished right before her eyes, as if they had never existed.
"That must be it."
She stood still for a moment, then took a step forward—stepping into the place where the cloth had disappeared.
Suddenly, everything ahead of her became clear. A house—one that should have been there—reappeared in front of her.
"Just as expected."
With a smile, she walked up the steps and knocked on the door a few times, waiting for the owner to answer.
Creak—
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