Chapter 296: Nick Fury’s Concerns
A lot of the time, what people called democracy and freedom was really just capital pulling the strings.
The wealth gap was absolute, leaving the lower classes vastly oversized and struggling.
Then there were all kinds of messy institutions, along with several political parties constantly maneuvering against each other for power.
How was a country supposed to be governed properly under those conditions?
Compared with ordinary people who knew little about what was really happening, Coulson was a senior S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with access to plenty of secrets—some that could be spoken of, and many that could not.
S.H.I.E.L.D.’s official responsibility might have been maintaining global balance and dealing with supernatural incidents.
But they also handled plenty of foreign organizations, terrorist groups, and similar threats.
No matter how respectable its stated mission sounded, S.H.I.E.L.D. was ultimately an intelligence and espionage agency—one with the authority to decide who lived and who died.
If Terra and the demons had never appeared, Coulson probably would have simply carried on as before.
No matter how flawed it was, America was still the country where he had been born.
All he could do was contribute what he could within the limits of his position and eliminate a few more people who harmed the country and its citizens.
But the situation was different now.
Anyone with even a little understanding could see what Terra had been trying to accomplish with all the commotion it had caused lately.
Establishing an empire, publicly displaying its power, and everything else it had done—
clearly, Terra had no intention of staying confined to that small patch of land in Eastern Europe.
The title of Terra’s Emperor already made that obvious.
He was called the Emperor of Mankind.
Terra’s ambitions, and the Emperor’s ambitions, were plain for everyone to see.
Could anyone stop them?
Obviously not.
The arrival of a new era had already become irreversible, and compared with America, Coulson actually preferred Terra’s ideals.
At the very least, judging by what Coulson knew, Terra was far better at governing its country than the United States.
America’s political system meant that many policies were inevitably influenced by political parties and capital.
When it came to policymaking, the slogans always sounded impressive, but in reality, many policies tilted toward vested interests. Very little of what was promised ever truly reached the people at the bottom.
Meanwhile, the country’s former industrial and manufacturing strength continued to decline year after year.
Even its supposedly world-class healthcare system was riddled with problems. Hospitals were funded by private capital and existed to make money.
The healthcare industry served money, not poor people.
Then there were insurance, taxation, and the information bubbles created by public opinion. Together, they were gradually pushing America toward the edge while trapping the lower classes from every direction.
Beneath the appearance of freedom was a kind of slow death.
Even something as basic as daily food reflected the problem.
The average body weight in America ranked among the highest in the world.
Why?
Because food corporations had gradually reshaped people’s eating habits by using the cheapest possible ingredients.
From drinking water to meals, snacks, and nearly every other part of the daily diet, excessive amounts of sugar had been added—far beyond what was healthy for the human body.
Very few people truly understood this.
Ordinary people at the bottom knew even less.
Coulson, however, understood it clearly.
He simply had no power to change any of it, so in the end, he had settled for getting by as best he could.
Now that there was clearly a better choice, clinging to the old system and shouting about loyalty would just be foolish.
Coulson wanted to move forward too.
He was already middle-aged, and his hair was even starting to show signs of thinning. He wanted to see more of the world, experience more, and live a little longer.
So instead of making him reject the order outright, Nick Fury’s assignment gave Coulson a few ideas of his own.
Of course, Coulson was a top-tier agent. He was exceptionally good at controlling his expressions and body language. Even an elite agent like Nick Fury failed to notice the thoughts forming beneath the surface.
Coulson simply kept a puzzled expression and asked calmly,
“Director, why do you want us to infiltrate Terra?”
“Do you believe Terra could become a potential enemy?”
Sure enough, Fury completely failed to notice that his seemingly honest, increasingly bald right-hand man had already started thinking for himself.
He shook his head and looked directly at Coulson and Clint Barton.
“They’re too mysterious.”
“We can’t uncover anything about their background, and we all know the ambition they’ve displayed.”
“Maybe the direction they’re taking is the right one, but who can guarantee that the person guiding that direction will never change?”
“A ruler with power comparable to a god, commanding three immensely powerful armies, might lead human civilization to its peak—but there’s no guarantee he won’t also lead it toward destruction.”
“We can’t place all our hopes entirely on Terra. We need to leave ourselves another path.”
Nick Fury understood where the tide was heading. The momentum had already formed, and he had neither the ability to stop it nor the power to change it.
What worried him was that Terra was simply too powerful—and too forceful.
Their war against Hell made that perfectly clear.
Everything had two sides.
Being forceful could be a good thing, but it could also become a problem.
A warmongering tyrant was often the beginning of a dynasty’s downfall.
Fury could not stop Earth from eventually being unified, but he still wanted to leave humanity a way out.
Ideally, it would never be needed.
But if things truly went wrong, at least there would still be a spark of human civilization left behind.
“I understand. I’m willing to take the assignment.”
Coulson put on a thoughtful expression. Only after a long silence did he take a deep breath and accept the mission with apparent reluctance.
Melinda May and Clint both widened their eyes and turned to stare at him.
Seriously? You’re actually doing this?
“Good. Clint, you still have time to think about it.”
With Coulson settled, Fury finally relaxed a little. After saying that to Clint, he ended the meeting.
Hill turned and left immediately. She still had plenty of work to deal with and had no time to linger.
Coulson left the conference room, with Clint and Melinda following behind him.
Later that evening, Coulson reached the parking garage and got into his beloved car, ready to leave.
But before he could go, Clint opened the passenger door while Melinda got into the back seat.
Coulson glanced at the two of them. Seeing their expressionless faces, he couldn’t help smiling. He shook his head, started the car, and drove off.
They headed toward Rock Creek Park, a 1,700-acre stretch of natural woodland. The creek running through the city was hidden almost entirely beneath dense forest.
Aside from the main trails, many of the smaller creek banks and shallows were completely deserted.
Coulson deliberately drove to one of those secluded shallows beside a branch of the creek and stopped the car.
He pressed a button inside the vehicle.
When the light on the button turned red, he shut off the engine and leaned back in his seat.
He did not turn on the interior lights. The only illumination came from a faint glow filtering through gaps in the distant trees and the bright moon overhead.
The surroundings were peaceful, filled only with the occasional calls of unknown birds and insects.
It was surprisingly pleasant.
“Alright, what did you want to say?” Coulson took the initiative to ask.
“What are you thinking? Why did you accept this mission?”
Clint did not even wait for Melinda to speak before asking impatiently.
“Because we don’t have a choice, Clint.”