He finally turned around, fixing Cloud with his battle-worn single eye.
"Mr. Cloud, let's not beat around the bush." Fury got straight to the point. "Who exactly are you? What's your purpose in coming to Earth?"
"Me?" Cloud also turned, leaning against the window. He fished a cigarette from his pocket, stuck it in his mouth, then flashed Fury a brilliant smile.
"Name's Cloud. Male. Hobbies include beautiful women. Currently in retirement."
"As for my purpose... does tourism count?"
Fury's eye narrowed into a dangerous slit.
"Tourism? A 'tourist' who can freeze water in midair, conjure food that's never existed, wipe out an entire gang with one breath, and walk in and out of reality-distortion fields at will?"
"Oh, those?" Cloud wore an expression of "Oh, you mean that?" "Just a few little tricks from back home. Nothing worth mentioning, really."
"Little tricks?" Fury's voice turned cold. "As far as I know, no 'trick' can accomplish what you've done!"
He slammed his palm on the command console.
Instantly, countless gun ports descended from the walls and ceiling around the command center! Every single one locked onto Cloud!
Simultaneously, the sound of synchronized footsteps echoed from outside—squads of fully armed elite agents surrounded the entire command center, sealing it airtight.
The air froze in that moment.
Natasha and Hill both broke out in nervous sweats.
But Cloud, standing at the center of the encirclement, remained completely unperturbed.
He even had the leisure to pat himself down searching for something.
"Strange, where'd I put my lighter?"
He searched for a while without success.
Then he looked at the energy cannon muzzles before him—already charged and glowing with dangerous blue light—and his eyes lit up.
Cigarette dangling from his lips, he leaned toward the nearest cannon muzzle and took a drag.
Fzzt—
Under the gobsmacked expressions of everyone present, the energy cannon—capable of blasting through a building—fired not a destructive beam, but a tiny, gentle flame at just the right temperature to light a cigarette.
Cloud took a satisfied puff and blew out a perfect smoke ring.
The smoke ring transformed mid-air into the shape of a middle finger.
"Thanks, buddy." He nodded at the now thoroughly stupefied cannon.
Fury felt his heart about to stop.
His proudest defense system—capable of threatening even the Hulk—was nothing but a fancy lighter in this man's eyes?
This wasn't provocation anymore. This was naked, dimension-crossing humiliation!
Before Fury could recover from the "lighter" shock, Cloud made another move.
He glanced at the cup of still-steaming coffee prepared for him on the table and shook his head.
"Weather's too hot for hot coffee."
Then he blew gently on the cup.
A visible wave of cold air instantly froze the entire cup of coffee into a crystalline ice block.
Following that, the ice block's surface crackled as a thin layer of frost, delicate as snowflakes, formed over it.
The entire process was imbued with the aesthetic beauty of ice sculpture art.
He picked up the "coffee ice block" and bit into it like a popsicle with a satisfying crunch.
"Mm... not bad. The coffee beans could be better quality though. Next time I'll have Kula send you some Absolute Zero Special Blend from our homeland. Guaranteed to make even your souls feel refreshed."
The command center fell utterly silent.
Every agent stood frozen, staring at the man who was smoking a "S.H.I.E.L.D. Special" cigarette while crunching on "Absolute Zero" coffee ice.
They felt that the scientific worldview, worldview, and life philosophy they'd built over their entire lives had just been mercilessly crushed.
Fury, too, finally gave up.
He waved his hand weakly, and all the weapons retracted.
He knew that all probing, all threats, were nothing but jokes to this man.
He slumped into his chair and asked in a voice of near-resignation: "What... do you actually want?"
Cloud finished the last bite of his "coffee ice," stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table, then dusted off his hands and resumed his lazy smile.
"Already told you. I'm retired. Just here for a vacation."
"I have zero interest in your power, your technology, or your territory."
"I just want to peacefully eat some hot dogs, drink some cola, see the sights. Maybe study the interesting laws of your world while I'm at it."
He paused, looking at Fury's face that clearly said "I don't believe you," and added:
"Of course, on the condition that you don't bother me."
"And don't send your lovely lady agents to probe me with such old-fashioned methods anymore. Next time, be more direct. Like... invite me to a movie or something." He winked meaningfully at Natasha nearby.
Natasha's face flushed bright red in an instant.
"Also," Cloud stood up, preparing to leave, "I'm quite interested in your little alliance. A soldier, a tin can, a big oaf... interesting combo. If there's any alien invasion excitement in the future, give me a heads up. I like front-row seats."
With that, he strode toward the exit, completely ignoring Fury's face—now dark as the bottom of a pot.
The agents at the door instinctively parted to make way for him.
Just as he was about to exit the command center, he suddenly stopped, turned back, and flashed Fury a smile like a businessman about to close a major deal.
"Oh, right, Director Fury."
"About your invitation to join forces and maintain world peace—I'm not entirely opposed to considering it."
A spark of hope flickered in Fury's single eye.
"However, I have one small condition."
"What condition?"
Cloud pointed at the massive vessel beneath his feet—the Helicarrier, representing Earth's pinnacle of technological achievement.
"Unless..."
"...you give me this ship."
"I happen to be in need of a yacht to take my girls out for joyrides."
...
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