Chapter Thirty: Nick Fury's Tactics (Part One)

A Kun-class fighter jet arrived to pick up Yang Xin and his companions. Instead of heading to the headquarters of S.H.I.E.L.D., the jet flew straight to the Sky Carrier. Since Yang Xin was already aware of the Sky Carrier's existence, Nick Fury made no effort to impress or wager with him.

"Ivan Vanko? You’ve already managed to win him over?" Yang Xin stared at the display in the operations command room aboard the Sky Carrier, watching the disheveled Ivan Vanko lead a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists in white coats as they tinkered with various advanced devices.

"Honestly, I have you to thank for this. While this eye isn’t quite as formidable as Shisui Uchiha’s Kotoamatsukami, its hypnotic and illusionary abilities are almost on par. I merely made a subtle adjustment to his memories," Nick Fury, clad in his black leather coat and as cool as ever, stood there. Those who knew him recognized Nick Fury; those who didn’t might mistake him for a member of the Akatsuki.

"You altered his memories?" Yang Xin asked, surprised.

"No, I simply made a few suggestions. Even regarding the old grudges between his father and Tony Stark’s father, I hinted to Ivan Vanko that he should create a more advanced reactor and defeat Tony Stark in his proudest field…" Nick Fury replied, his demeanor calm and collected.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Yang Xin couldn’t help but give a thumbs-up. Nick Fury hadn’t forcibly twisted Ivan Vanko’s mindset, nor had he tampered with his memories or erased his hatred for Tony Stark—he’d merely changed the method of vengeance ever so slightly.

Now, Ivan Vanko could thrive, using S.H.I.E.L.D.’s cutting-edge technology to exact his revenge on the Stark family and beat them where they were most proud. It was a dream come true for Ivan Vanko.

Moreover, S.H.I.E.L.D. would even register patents for him, making his name resound throughout the world. How could Ivan Vanko not give it his all?

Nick Fury’s tactic of going with the flow and leveraging resources was truly ingenious.

"Aren’t you worried that Ivan Vanko might pull some tricks or get poached?" Yang Xin expressed concern.

"I sent Tony Stark an email, telling him that the arc reactor S.H.I.E.L.D. is building is superior to his."

"Brilliant!" Yang Xin raised his thumb again. It was a transparent provocation, but it was exactly the kind that would work on Tony Stark.

"And how did the playboy respond?" Yang Xin asked curiously.

"He replied with an email, using every insult imaginable to berate us. He ended by declaring that once we finish the reactor, he’ll come inspect it, and if he doesn’t find a hundred or so flaws, then he’s not a Stark."

---

"It’s settled!" Yang Xin made no effort to hide his admiration and gave Nick Fury a thumbs-up.

"Tony Stark is only our backup plan. With this eye’s subtle influence, Ivan Vanko will be utterly devoted to S.H.I.E.L.D. As for anyone trying to poach him, rest assured—I’ve already informed the Security Council. No one will take him away."

Yang Xin was speechless. Ivan Vanko really had the worst luck, running into Nick Fury, that black-hearted fox, subjected to daily hypnosis, suggestions, and illusions—he was caught in an endless Tsukuyomi.

"Director, Congress is calling. They’re demanding we hand over Ivan Vanko to the military." Coulson hurried over.

Yang Xin couldn’t help but laugh, noticing how Fury’s face instantly darkened. This was the legendary slap in the face: just moments ago, Fury had confidently claimed nobody could poach Vanko, and now the phone call came.

"Director, a combat jet is approaching the carrier, requesting permission to dock." Coulson reported again.

"Who are they?" Fury asked.

"It’s General Ross’s plane. Should we wait for the air currents to stabilize before allowing them to dock?"

"Let them dock now," Fury said through gritted teeth.

The jet landed on the Sky Carrier, which was nothing like landing on an aircraft carrier. Up in high altitude, turbulent winds meant any misstep could be fatal. General Ross wasn’t bothered by Fury’s show of force—after all, if you’re here to poach someone’s hard-won expert, you have to let them vent a little.

Ross’s pilot was a top ace, landing smoothly on the Sky Carrier.

"This is a Congressional transfer order," General Ross calmly handed a document to Fury. He didn’t display smugness or mock Fury—old foxes like them knew that petty tricks only alienated people and earned contempt.

Ross was steady, but those with him were arrogant, barking, "Hand over the prisoner Ivan Vanko immediately!"

"This is Justin Hammer," Ross introduced. He said no more, knowing S.H.I.E.L.D. could uncover everything about Hammer Industries’ CEO in less than two minutes. Secretly, he regretted the military’s cooperation with Hammer Industries.

---

From small signs, great truths are revealed: someone so impatient could never rival Tony Stark. There was no way Congress would move against Stark. To arbitrarily target an influential tycoon would violate the unwritten rules America had followed since its founding.

The United States, after all, is a federated nation; in some ways, it’s more a corporation than a country, with plutocrats pulling the strings. Decisions are the result of capital’s tug-of-war; the president is merely a figurehead balancing interests. Someone like Tony Stark, a major player behind the scenes, could never be touched.

If you go after Tony Stark today, who will be next tomorrow? The nation would instantly fragment. The only way is to prop up another player, using economic competition to challenge Stark. General Ross had little faith in Hammer Industries—calling it high-tech was laughable; everyone knew it was just a weapons factory. But Justin Hammer was the strategic partner designated by Congress and the Pentagon. Even if he were a pile of dung, they'd have to prop him up.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. only obeys orders from the Security Council," Fury said coldly.

"This is the Security Council’s latest directive!" Justin Hammer, even more pleased, handed Fury a document.

"Wait here," Fury said after reading it, his tone icy, then he led Yang Xin out.

"What are you planning?" Yang Xin asked, puzzled—Fury, as director, didn’t need to fetch people personally; a single command would suffice.

"If they want someone from S.H.I.E.L.D., they’ll have to dream on! Lend me your four-dimensional pocket for a moment."

"What for?"

"I won’t use it for free. I’ll give you a Kun-class fighter jet."

Yang Xin handed over the four-dimensional pocket after setting the permissions. The space was vast; Yang Xin set aside his weapons and supplies, opening a new space for Fury’s use so he wouldn’t have to worry about Fury pilfering his belongings.

Then, Yang Xin’s eyes widened as he finally understood what Fury intended to do with the four-dimensional pocket…