Motherf—!
Peter Parker, you have no heart!
Inside his head, Nick Fury was screaming bloody murder.
I was the one who set up the direct line with the President for you! I broke my back trying to maximize your interests! And now, you turn around and slaughter the donkey once the grinding is done? You're stealing my damn job?! Is there no justice? Is there no law?!
Noticing the look of pure, agonizing betrayal in Fury's eye—as if he had just been backstabbed by his own reflection—Peter raised an eyebrow.
"What's the matter, Mr Fury? You got an objection?"
The moment the words left his mouth...
BOOM!!!
An indescribable, terrifying aura erupted from Peter's body like an invisible spiritual tsunami, sweeping across the entirety of Brooklyn in an instant!
Thud! Thud! Thud!
In the distance, the NYPD officers and onlookers who were busy blockading the scene fell like wheat before a scythe. One by one, they collapsed, eyes rolling back, foam bubbling at their mouths.
Near Peter, the high-ranking General Ross, Nick Fury, and Colonel Rhodes felt as if they were suddenly standing before a primordial god. That supreme, kingly will crashed against their minds, shattering their iron discipline inch by inch.
With a heavy thud, General Ross—who had only just stood up—hit the dirt again. Colonel Rhodes followed immediately after.
The veins on Fury's forehead throbbed violently. He gritted his teeth, desperately trying to withstand the crushing pressure.
But in the face of that power, all struggle was futile. After only five seconds, he too was forced to his knees.
Eventually, his entire body was pinned flat against the ground, finding it impossible to even lift his head.
Aside from Peter, only Tony, George, Gwen, Felicia, and Cap remained standing. Though Peter had shielded them from the direct impact of the pressure, they still felt a heart-stopping dread, their respect for Peter deepening into something approaching awe.
Peter himself was actually a bit startled.
Is this... the one-in-a-million Conqueror's Haki?
It awakened on its own under these circumstances?
He had assumed he would have to wait for the shop to refresh and gamble his sacrifice points to get this power.
But it made sense—this was the power of those with the qualities of a king. Peter was currently threatening the leader of the world's "superpower."
Someone capable of that naturally possessed the disposition of a ruler. The awakening was simply a natural progression.
Glancing down at the prostrate Nick Fury, Peter turned back to the screen.
"Mr. President, it seems Director Fury—or should I say, Agent Fury—has no objections. Do you have any other concerns?"
The President stared blankly at Peter's youthful face. Although the screen shielded him from the physical weight of the Haki, the sheer intensity of Peter's gaze and his regal bearing translated perfectly through the camera.
For a moment, even the President felt his heart skip a beat.
As for the Secret Service... how many divisions did they have? Could they tank that lightning orb from earlier?
Without even consulting his advisors, the President blurted out:
"I agree! Mr. Arbiter, as of today, I appoint you as the new Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. with absolute control! You have the authority for all internal personnel appointments and removals.
But... you must stay true to your word about following the rules. We cannot have a repeat of today!"
The moment the President conceded, the suffocating Haki vanished. Peter instantly reverted to his usual, "refreshing as a spring breeze" demeanor.
"Of course. As I said, I am a man of rules. Provided, of course, that everyone else follows them too!"
With the President granting the conditions, the call ended. Peter looked at Nick Fury, who was shakily climbing to his feet.
"Nick... oh, wait, we should use professional titles during work hours. Agent Fury. From today on, you are a Level 8 S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Do you have anything you'd like to say?"
Fury stood up with difficulty, panting. He looked at Peter for a long time before muttering, "I have nothing to say, Director."
"Good~!" Peter patted Fury's shoulder encouragingly. "Work hard, I have high hopes for you! Don't look so miserable. Think about it—my becoming Director isn't all bad. At least those two favors you owed me... wait, that reminds me."
"Agent Fury, your chance to repay those favors has arrived. Give me your eyepatch and your eye, and we're even. As compensation, I'll restore sight to your left eye."
Motherf—!
Fury nearly spit out blood. Peter Parker, are you even human?! You're the Director now, and you're still counting favors?!
Moreover, how did he know about the secret in his left eye? He wanted the eye right off the bat?
Before Fury could process the question, Peter lost his patience. In a move that paid homage to the legendary "Uchiha Madara school of ophthalmology," Peter's hand moved in a blur.
Fury didn't even realize what had happened. He felt a sharp sting in his eye socket, followed by a surge of soothing coolness. When he came to, his blind left eye could see the light of day again—and in Peter's hand sat his black eyepatch and a dull, grey eyeball.
[Detected Blue Rare: Nick Fury's Eyepatch]
[Nick Fury's Eyepatch: The iconic symbol of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director. While it has no functional use, it possesses extraordinary collectible value.]
[Sacrifice for: 900 Points]
Tch, a loser is a loser. Even as a Blue item, it's only worth 900. Peter sacrificed it without a second thought.
Having finished his business with Fury, he turned to Tony.
"Hey, Tony. Any interest in coming to play around at my S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
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