Thor departed, leaving Jane Foster behind. She didn't wait for his return that day. In his efforts to save the Frost Giants' homeworld of Jotunheim from destruction, Thor had shattered the Bifrost Bridge with his hammer, severing his path back to Earth. Yet Jane refused to give up. Her mind raced with ideas, rapidly forming a theory that could bridge worlds. If Thor couldn't come to her, she would go to him.
It was a touching sentiment, but Hong Fei couldn't help feeling perplexed. "What does this have to do with me?" he wondered aloud. Across from him, Dr. Erik Selvig sat with his hands nervously rubbing his legs. After a long pause, the scientist spoke cautiously. "Sir, I believe you know Thor—perhaps even before he knew you. If—just hypothetically—if you know how to find him, I hope you'll tell me. Jane Foster thinks of him constantly."
"Have you taken her as your daughter?" Hong Fei asked.
"You could say that," Selvig replied. "But I see myself more as her research assistant. She has extraordinary potential."
"Hmm," Hong Fei mused. "I don't know how to find Thor, but I can tell you this: he'll be able to return in a little over a year. Oh, and you might want to suggest she find a hammer like Thor's to play with in her spare time. It could come in handy."
Seeing Hong Fei's sincerity, Selvig couldn't hide his disappointment. "I'll pass that along to her."
"Good. Oh, and Fury will probably come looking for you soon. Remember, don't mention me to him. He might change his mind if you do."
Selvig nodded, then studied Hong Fei with curiosity. "How did you manage those things?"
Hong Fei smirked. "I've done many things. Which one are you referring to?"
The doctor blinked, surprised by the candid response. After a moment, he leaned forward, his gaze earnest. "The tank. It's all anyone can talk about online. People have proposed all sorts of theories—magic, space teleportation. Though I suppose magic might be real now, given Thor's existence."
Hong Fei shook his head. "Neither of those guesses is correct. It's more of an... ability. Energy aggregation at its core, with mimicry as the primary output method."
Selvig's expression was blank, like an old man staring at a confusing phone screen.
"Forget it," Hong Fei said, standing. "Come with me."
He led Selvig from the living room into the underground chamber below. The doctor's eyes widened at the vast space beneath the house. When they reached an open area, Hong Fei equipped a skill card and channeled his energy. "Don't blink," he warned.
Selvig obeyed, his eyes wide open. In the next moment, a tank materialized out of thin air, piece by piece, from bottom to top, left to right. The doctor's mouth hung open the entire time. When the tank fully formed, Hong Fei stepped aside and gestured for him to inspect it.
Selvig swallowed hard, then slowly approached. He reached out, his fingers brushing the cold metal. A light tap confirmed its solidity. "Can I... go inside and take a look?"
"Of course," Hong Fei said.
Hong Fei walked to the side and gestured for him to come forward and inspect it.
Erik Selvig climbed up, deftly opened the hatch, and disappeared into the tank. For what felt like an eternity, there was no movement. Then, with a creak, the hatch swung open again. His head emerged, face a mask of shock, excitement, and bewilderment. "This is incredible!" His voice trembled. "I served as a gunner in the military—I know tanks. This is the real deal!"
Hong Fei reached out to help him down. "So that's how the tank appeared," he said. "No wonder no one's been able to explain it rationally until now. If you don't make it public, no one will ever know the truth. Your method… it's beyond unreasonable." Erik stared at him, his mind reeling. Outrageous. That was the only word he could muster. The meeting concluded with that unspoken thought hanging in the air.
Hong Fei escorted him to the door. Before Erik climbed into his car, Hong Fei handed him a black belt that looked utterly ordinary. "Take this. If you're ever in danger, flip the switch inside the buckle. Someone will come to your aid immediately. If you don't activate it, it won't emit any signals, so you can take it anywhere without raising suspicion."
The belt was a collaboration between Big Head and Ivan, though Big Head had taken the lead. Since Hong Fei had given him the green light to pursue his scientific passions, his team had churned out all sorts of bizarre gadgets. Most were dismissed by Hong Fei as "useless junk," but this belt was a rare exception—a genuine success.
Erik accepted it without a word. As he opened the car door, Hong Fei added casually, "By the way, I arranged a little surprise for your family. You're welcome." Erik froze, then nodded silently. Once Hong Fei stepped away, he immediately called home. His wife answered, her voice bubbling with excitement—she'd won the lottery yesterday, netting 5.6 million after taxes.
It wasn't on par with the 50-million-dollar research fund, but it was still a life-changing sum. Erik, a man who cared little for wealth, had always poured his earnings back into his work. His family had never complained, but like anyone, they dreamed of better living conditions. Standing by the car, Erik gazed at the sprawling manor, his thoughts churning. Beneath Hong Fei's generosity, he sensed a quiet warning.
Your family's living well now, old man. Don't cause trouble, or I won't hesitate to roll up in a tank and blow you sky-high. That was the unspoken message. Hong Fei believed in securing every advantage, no matter how extreme. Whether he'd actually act on it was beside the point—the threat alone was enough to keep Erik in line.
As for the current manor, the laboratory had already been relocated to the Sokovia castle. Hong Fei had purchased the entire estate for 500 million, along with the surrounding hills and the nearby lake. In the world of capitalism, money bought privileges most people couldn't even imagine.
The eastern border held a sprawling freshwater lake spanning seven square kilometers. To the west, barely a hundred paces from HYDRA castle's gates, the land answered to him. Southward, beyond the chain-link fence of Sokovia's modest northern airport, the deed still bore his name. Five kilometers north, the national border marked the only limit to his domain.
With Sokovia's government weak and economy faltering, these thirty-eight square kilometers might as well have been his personal kingdom. A glance at any map would show Hong Fei's claim swallowing a significant chunk of the nation's already meager northern territory—forests and jagged peaks too rugged for urban development, which explained why the desperate government had sold it. Though if they'd known about the armories hidden beneath those pines, the deal would've died before ink touched paper, possibly sparking open conflict.
Frank's earlier concerns weren't paranoid speculation. This land would become Hong Fei's true stronghold on Earth—a base meant to withstand sieges and launch counterstrikes. Securing it properly topped his current agenda. He turned back toward the manor.
No. 1 had vanished into Africa hunting Ulysses Klaue, with only sporadic confirmation of the target's survival. No. 2 managed daily operations. No. 3 worked alongside Frank overseeing Sokovian affairs. Numbers 4 and 5 had infiltrated a Russian oil survey team, maintaining radio silence. Meanwhile, Big Head and Ivan remained buried in their lab work.
Abomination lurked in the Underground Room these days, mastering the brutal art of mace combat when not donating blood samples or skin flakes for Big Head's research. Tonight, Hong Fei summoned Jessica to the copse behind the manor. She arrived suspiciously prompt, clearly having prepared for the occasion.
Black knee-high boots hugged her calves. Skinny jeans the color of faded denim clung to every curve from waist to ankle. Her leather jacket bristled with silver studs, catching moonlight with each movement. Thick eyeliner smoldered around her eyes, the rest of her makeup equally dramatic.
The motorcycle's kickstand snapped down. She blew a pink bubble until it popped with a wet crack, radiating defiance. Then Hong Fei's fist dropped her like a sack of bricks. "You look like a neon sign screaming 'shoot me.' People will think you're clubbing, not hunting vengeance. What the hell's wrong with your brain?"
Dragging her by the collar left twin scuffs on her jeans' knees—fashionably distressed now. Big Head spotted them approaching and barked orders about drawing a bath. "Screw your bath! Where's my AI?" The scientist bolted before the sentence finished. Ivan's laughter leaked through the lab window until Hong Fei snarled, "Keep laughing and I'll stitch your lips shut!" The pane slammed shut.
Abomination at least knew his place. Hong Fei dumped Jessica on the foyer tiles just as—
Abomination suddenly poked his head out from the Underground Room's entrance. "Not bad, aside from the clown makeup." The death glare Hong Fei leveled at him sent the creature ducking back with a reverberating thud. "No. 2, fetch a water bucket. Wake her up."
"Right away, Boss." Loyal as always—that one deserved a bonus.
No. 2 spun around, then froze mid-step. He turned back with an awkward cough. "Boss... the carpet. It can't get wet."
Hong Fei arched one brow. "You think I can't replace it?"
"Not that, it's just..." The man shifted his weight. "This one's... special. Costs about 3.2 million."
Hong Fei's foot hovered above the fabric like he'd stepped on a landmine.
He had money now, sure—but this was a carpet. Something people trampled daily. Who the hell spent that much on floor decoration? The original owner must've been swimming in cash. At least guns served a purpose. What was this good for? Suffocating enemies?
"Sell it tomorrow," Hong Fei snapped. No. 2 hesitated. "Small problem... Dr. Cho's kinda fond of this one." A beat of silence. "Pack it up. Ship it to Sokovia tonight." Hong Fei jabbed a finger at the door. "No—get it out now. Then bring the damn water."
No. 2 assembled a team to lift the carpet with the reverence of handling a bomb. He returned moments later, lugging a bucket of steaming water.
Hong Fei's features couldn't help but wrinkle inward simultaneously. Was the whole universe conspiring against him tonight? Or had his crew forgotten whose knives stayed sharpest?