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Carrying the colossal weight of Nick Fury's grand ambitions, along with several armored crates of pure, unrefined gold bullion, the steadfast Agent Phil Coulson materialized once more at the glittering new Manhattan headquarters of the Home of the Devil Fruits.
Moments later, after breezing through the strict security protocols, he was standing directly across from Rosh in the sweeping executive office.
"Manager Rosh, I am here today on behalf of Director Fury," Coulson said, bypassing any unnecessary small talk and getting straight to the point after a brief, professional greeting. "S.H.I.E.L.D. wishes to officially upgrade its corporate status to your new VIP membership tier."
An elite customer practically throwing a literal fortune at his feet was naturally cause for a swift, enthusiastic response. Rosh wasted absolutely no time, immediately summoning his specialized logistical staff to haul the heavy, reinforced crates inside. Within minutes, the system processed the massive influx of wealth, finalizing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s formal upgrade.
"Congratulations to Nick Fury," Rosh offered with a smooth, formal smile as the holographic verification flashed between them. "He is officially our first verified VIP member."
"Indeed. A monumental step forward for the Director," Coulson agreed, nodding solemnly. Then, in the quiet, fiercely guarded privacy of his own thoughts, he couldn't help but add: 'And more importantly, congratulations to me.'
"So, Coulson," Rosh continued, leaning forward on his desk, his eyes locking onto the agent with a knowing, highly confident smile. "Aside from setting up the multi-billion-dollar membership account, I take it you're also planning to walk out of here with a new Devil Fruit today?"
It was an incredibly obvious deduction. The sheer, staggering volume of gold Coulson's tactical team had wheeled into the loading bay far exceeded the single metric ton required for the VIP upgrade.
"You have a remarkably sharp eye, Manager," Coulson replied, a genuine smile finally breaking through his rigid professional mask. "Thanks to Director Fury's long-standing mentorship, I've been fortunate enough to be allocated a personal quota for a Devil Fruit this time around."
'So it's finally the honest man's turn, huh?' Rosh mused internally, watching the agent's subtle excitement. 'Took that bald bastard long enough.' Rosh couldn't help but feel a quiet twinge of silent sympathy for the guy. He'd been the unsung backbone of S.H.I.E.L.D. for years. 'Well, at least with whatever power he buys today, maybe he can completely avoid getting brutally run through by Loki's scepter when the time comes.'
"That's fantastic news, Agent," Rosh said with a light, welcoming laugh. "Did a particular Devil Fruit catch your eye while you were browsing our newly updated catalog?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," Coulson replied without a single hint of hesitation. "The website recently listed a brand-new addition to the Paramecia class called the Return-Return Fruit. I found its description... intriguing, to say the least."
"The Return-Return Fruit? A formidable choice," Rosh nodded, his expression turning appreciative.
Without waiting for the agent to prompt him for a sales pitch, Rosh smoothly took the initiative, leaning over the desk to detail the exact metaphysical mechanics behind the Devil Fruit.
"Just as the brief entry in our online encyclopedia suggests, this fruit grants its user the absolute authority to reverse the age of any biological organism or inanimate object. When you consciously activate the ability, a highly distinctive, vibrant pink energy manifests around the user's hands. The moment that energy strikes a target, whether it's a living human being or a solid block of steel, time is forcibly dialed back. They instantly become 'younger'."
"What an extraordinary, terrifying power," Coulson muttered, genuinely awed as he stared at his own hands, imagining that pink energy dancing across his knuckles.
Humanity had spent millennia claiming that time was a strict, one-way street, a fundamental cosmic law that could never be bent, let alone broken. Yet, the moment this specific Paramecia entered the picture, that foundational rule of reality was utterly shattered. It transformed the impossible, sci-fi concept of turning back the clock into a tangible, weaponized reality.
"But, Manager, what exactly are the baseline limitations on this reversal process?" Coulson asked, pressing for specifics, his analytical S.H.I.E.L.D. training kicking into high gear. "What I mean is, how many years can it strip away from a target during a single application?"
"There is no hard, universal cap on the total amount of time you can reverse," Rosh explained, his voice calm and clinical. "The core mechanics are actually quite simple, Coulson: each time you strike a target with that pink energy, their chronological age is reduced by a set, fixed number of years. The exact number can vary slightly depending on the user's personal mastery and emotional intent, but it is always a significant generational jump."
Rosh paused for effect before delivering the real kicker. "However, a user can strike the exact same target multiple times consecutively to make them younger, and younger, and younger. There is absolutely no limit to how far back into the past you can drag them."
A sudden wave of understanding dawned on Coulson. The fruit's power didn't allow the user to arbitrarily select an exact age like a slider on a screen; rather, it worked in fixed, compounding increments based on a structural multiplier.
But as he considered that logic, a potentially fatal flaw occurred to him. If the base multiplier of a single touch were too large, the restriction would be crippling, even monstrous. For instance, if a single accidental tap stripped away a century of life, how many people on Earth were even old enough to survive the touch? Wouldn't a single contact instantly blink ninety-nine percent of the human population straight out of existence?
"Manager, you mentioned the years removed per strike depends entirely on the user's output, but there must be a standard baseline for a novice, right?" Coulson zeroed in on the exact nuance.
"Under normal, unawakened circumstances, it typically defaults to exactly twelve years per strike," Rosh gave a firm, reassuring answer.
Hearing this, Coulson finally let out a long, quiet sigh of relief, the tension draining from his shoulders. Twelve years was perfectly manageable.
"Then, Manager... what happens if you repeatedly trigger the reversal on an object or a person until the cumulative years subtracted actually exceed its total existence? What becomes of them?"
Coulson's voice dropped into a low, solemn whisper as he posed the critical question. Though his sharp mind already harbored a terrifyingly strong suspicion of what the answer would be, the sheer geopolitical and lethal weight of the implications forced him to get an official confirmation from the source.
"They vanish," Rosh said, his tone entirely absolute. "They cease to exist, returning to a time before they were ever created or conceived."
A cold, heavy chill ran straight down Coulson's spine.
This meant the Return-Return Fruit wasn't just a convenient utility for support or healing; it was a terrifyingly efficient, absolute weapon. If you struck an enemy enough times, you could erase their very existence from the timeline, leaving behind no crime scene, no body, and no evidence, nothing but a fading memory that the world would eventually forget.
Of course, that was merely a theoretical, baseline application. For a reality-bending treasure of this magnitude, wasting its power on basic combat would be absolute lunacy. S.H.I.E.L.D. had an entire army of highly trained, elite operatives to handle the heavy lifting on the front lines; there was absolutely no rational reason for an executive agent like Coulson to be charging into active firefights.
The true, priceless value of this fruit lies in its ability to bend time, to grant eternal youth, and even reverse the process of aging entirely. A miracle that had previously belonged only to fairy tales, forbidden alchemy, and ancient myths was now a concrete, accessible reality.
"Oh, and Coulson, I'm sure your analytical mind has already deduced this next part," Rosh continued, smoothly breaking the agent's spiraling train of thought. "The Return-Return Fruit doesn't just work on external targets. It works on the user as well."
Rosh leaned across the desk, looking him dead in the eye, his usual casual demeanor replaced by complete seriousness. "So... congratulations, Coulson. If you truly go through with purchasing this fruit today, immortality is yours. You can keep yourself young forever."
Coulson felt his breathing completely catch in his throat, a sudden, suffocating tightness gripping his chest.
Immortality.
It was a concept that had driven ancient kings to madness and completely ruined entire civilizations throughout human history. To have the rigid boundary between life and death, the cruel, inevitable march of aging, simply erased with a single bite was almost too massive a concept to wrap his head around. To think that a single Devil Fruit could cross the ultimate threshold of mortal biology was simply mind-blowing.
"However, before you get ahead of yourself, I must offer a crucial word of caution," Rosh added, instantly dousing Coulson's rising excitement with a cold splash of reality. "Like all god-tier powers, the Return-Return Fruit has a major catch. The temporal reversal you inflict is tied directly to your ongoing state of being."
Coulson blinked, forcing his professionalism back to the surface. "What exactly does that mean?"
"The effect only remains active as long as you, the user, remain fully conscious and relatively healthy," Rosh explained, tapping his fingers on the desk for emphasis. "If you are knocked out cold in battle, put under anesthesia, or suffer a life-threatening, fatal injury, the ability's hold on reality will instantly shatter. The timeline will aggressively correct itself."
"Anyone or anything you've aged backward will instantly revert right back to their original, true biological age."
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Next Chapter: The Immortal Agent and the Tree from Home
Next Next Chapter: Captain America, Have You Heard of Devil Fruits?
Next Next Next Chapter: The Soldier Whose Worldview Shattered
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