"Mr. Harold, isn't it? You're very aggressive right now, and your heart rate is over 110. But I know it's not because you hate me; it's because you're feeling very anxious."
She tilted her head slightly, her gaze falling on the collar of Harold's wrinkled shirt. "There are two fresh scratches on your shirt collar. From a cat? No, those are marks from a woman's fingernails..."
"Combined with that white mark on your left ring finger from wearing a ring for a long time, yet the ring is missing..."
"Mr. Harold, you're going through a nasty divorce lawsuit recently, aren't you?"
Harold's pupils shrank suddenly, the aggression from a moment ago freezing on his face. "You..."
"Please don't misunderstand, I'm not accusing you."
Makima didn't give him a chance to breathe, continuing in a tone so gentle it was like telling a bedtime story. "I know that roaring at newcomers in this little dark room isn't because you enjoy it, and certainly not because you're a jerk."
Her fingers tapped lightly on the cold iron table with a rhythmic sound. "On the contrary, it's proof of how desperate you are. You're desperately maintaining this 'mad dog' persona at S.H.I.E.L.D. just to prove your worth and keep this paycheck... After all, private school tuition and the fees for that Vampire lawyer are astronomical sums."
"You're very tired, Mr. Harold."
Makima watched the middle-aged man's back gradually hunch over, like watching an old dog whose spine had been broken by life.
"You've sacrificed sleep, sacrificed dignity, and can't even bear to buy a decent bottle of Bourbon to comfort yourself, relying instead on this free instant coffee provided by the agency to keep going."
"You've pushed yourself to this point clearly to protect that home, yet you return home to nothing but arguments and accusations..."
"It's not fair, is it?"
Harold opened his mouth, but all the biting words he had prepared were stuck in his throat.
At that moment, the psychological defense he took pride in was easily shattered by Makima, and his eyes turned red at a visible rate.
"Damn it..." Harold took off his glasses and covered his face with his hands, his voice carrying a hint of sobbing and trembling.
"That bitch even wants to take my dog... That's my dog!"
[simulation value +211]
Makima leaned forward slightly, her eyes full of pity. "I can understand you, Mr. Harold. I like my dogs very much, too..."
Miss Makima is as understanding as an Angel~
...Outside the door, the corridor was deathly silent.
Agent Sitwell kept checking his watch, fine beads of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
It's been twenty minutes... Why is it taking so long?
Ordinarily, Harold's roars or the sound of a newcomer slamming the door and crying would have been heard by now, but today, it was eerily quiet.
Could that mad dog Harold have pissed off My Lord Makima and been... disposed of?
If My Lord Makima couldn't help herself and went on a killing spree at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters... this wouldn't end well... Even he wouldn't have the power to settle something like this... "Damn it... should I rush in?"
Sitwell paced anxiously at the door, his hand already on the doorknob, hesitating whether to make some noise to interrupt the "act of violence" inside.
Just then.
Click.
The door opened.
Makima walked out with a calm expression.
Not a drop of blood, not even a single extra wrinkle on the hem of her clothes; she still maintained that inscrutable elegance.
Immediately after, Agent Harold followed her out.
Sitwell instinctively looked at Harold.
Fortunately... he wasn't missing any limbs, but then Sitwell's eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost.
Harold, known for being mean and sharp-tongued, now had bright red eyes and was clutching a wad of soaked tissue. The look he gave Makima... what kind of look was that? Gratitude? Admiration? Reluctance to part?
"Miss Makima, really, I feel much better after talking to you."
Harold gripped Makima's hand tightly, his voice heavily nasal and even somewhat choked up. "I gave you the highest score on the report. If you need anything in the future, just come to me. You're the only one who understands how hard it is for me."
Sitwell's jaw nearly hit the floor.
What the hell just happened?
Makima smiled and nodded, withdrawing her hand. "Then thank you, Agent Harold. Remember to be kind to yourself."
Not until the two entered the elevator and the doors slowly closed...
...did Sitwell dare to steal a cautious glance at Makima beside him, swallowing hard and asking tentatively:
"Officer... you didn't do anything to him, did you?"
Makima looked straight ahead and said casually.
"No, I just gave him a simple psychological consultation and chatted a bit."
This wasn't a lie.
She didn't need to hide her abilities or identity from Sitwell at all now.
After all, he was already completely under Makima's Control.
To deal with an ordinary person like Harold, whose heart was full of cracks, Makima didn't need to use her Control Devil abilities at all.
Just a little bit of insight and a little bit of well-timed empathy could make him treat you like a savior.
Only... why did those words sound so off to Sitwell?
What do you mean by "simple psychological consultation"?
Wasn't Harold supposed to be giving you a psychological evaluation?
How did it end up with you taking over and giving Harold a psychological consultation instead?
Is... is that right?
"This is your workstation, My Lord Mak... Agent Makima." Sitwell led her to the open office area of the Administrative Department.
Although it was in a corner, the view was good, allowing her to observe the movements of the entire office area.
"Your current clearance is Level 5, specifically responsible for the Indexing Asset Evaluation and Intake Procedure. To be honest, this job is a bit..." Sitwell scanned the surrounding Agents buried in documents, choosing his words carefully.
"A bit boring."
Su Modie chuckled at this; she happened to know about this procedure.
"Indexing Asset Evaluation and Intake."
It sounded like something related to wealth management or finance, but the "assets" here actually referred to superpowered individuals and anomalous objects.
Among the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, Coulson once thought Skye—that is, Daisy Johnson—was well-suited for this.
Because she could see the good in people, and in some ways, she was very similar to Nick Fury.
This was also why Skye could later become another Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
However, both Skye and Coulson felt the name of this procedure was stupid and ugly—just like S.H.I.E.L.D.'s previous name, the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, it was long, clunky, and ambiguous, reeking of bureaucracy.
Su Modie very much agreed with Skye and Coulson's complaints.
Which genius was responsible for coming up with these names for S.H.I.E.L.D.?
As for why this job was boring, Su Modie also understood—in the Marvel World, it wasn't until after the Battle of New York in "The Avengers" that various superpowered individuals and monsters began to spring up like mushrooms.
Before then, out of a hundred so-called supernatural events, perhaps only one or two were real... The other 99.9% were basically urban legends or the ramblings of junkies. Makima's job was to sift through tons of false intelligence for that 1% of truth and list the real "Gifted" in the index.
Then decide whether to monitor their lives or... put them in a cage.
"It's fine."
Makima sat down with a smile, her fingers lightly brushing the keyboard emblazoned with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo.
"I like the quiet."
—Because only by quiet waters is it easy to cast a long line and catch the big fish.
No matter which World she's in, she's always a civil servant.
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