Chapter Six: Gifting Nick Fury a Sharingan

Coulson was visibly puzzled, but Nick Fury and Natasha—two who had survived the Second World War—underwent a dramatic change in expression. Hydra was a forbidden word, a taboo. In their memory, Hydra had already been crushed by Captain America, who had even lost his life in the process.

"Impossible," Natasha said coldly.

Nick Fury opened his eyes, fixing a long, hard stare at the back of Yang Xin’s head before finally speaking, "I hope you’re joking. I’ll look into this as soon as I get back."

"I’d advise you not to investigate," Yang Xin replied.

"Why not?"

"Because I’m not sure if you’re S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra masquerading as S.H.I.E.L.D." Yang Xin fell silent after speaking.

Nick Fury said nothing more and closed his eyes again. Yang Xin’s words had struck a chord, though not a particularly deep one. Fury had long felt that something was wrong within S.H.I.E.L.D., but his resources were limited and he dared not dig too deeply. All his subordinates were trained agents, well-versed in audit procedures, and just as adept at countering such scrutiny.

This was also why Nick Fury was so adamant about quickly assembling the Avengers. This special task force was not only meant to confront external threats, but more importantly, to root out traitors within their own ranks.

"Who do you think should drive?" After a long silence, Fury suddenly asked.

"Melinda May," Yang Xin answered without hesitation.

"The Cavalry? Why her, just because she’s Chinese?"

"No, because she’s not Hydra."

"You’re that sure?" It was Natasha who spoke this time. There were questions Fury couldn’t ask, but Natasha had no such qualms.

"Absolutely."

"And why are you so certain?"

"I just am! Actually—" Yang Xin suddenly drew out his words.

"Actually what?" Natasha hooked an arm around Yang Xin’s neck, whispering into his ear like a lover.

"I can’t take you anymore, I’m driving! Actually, I have a little treasure that can help your director easily distinguish between S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and Hydra." Yang Xin tried to break free from Natasha’s grip, but to no avail.

"I can switch seats if you like," Coulson offered with a grin. He didn’t just say it, he acted on it—slipping nimbly from the front passenger seat to the back.

Natasha, with even greater agility, slid into the passenger seat, holding Yang Xin even tighter. "Come on, show us your treasure."

"This is a special item, and very powerful. So... I want two more shares of the same supplies," Yang Xin said, visibly conflicted.

Truth be told, Yang Xin didn’t want to give this treasure to Nick Fury—he wanted it for himself. It was a remarkable item just conjured by his Artifact System: the Sharingan.

Yes, the very same Sharingan from "Naruto." Not just the eye itself—it came with Uchiha bloodline, and, absurdly enough, could absorb any kind of energy and convert it to chakra. This chakra would power the Sharingan, and also strengthen Fury’s body. Furthermore, it included chakra extraction techniques and all of the Uchiha’s fire style jutsu.

Yang Xin was consumed with envy, wishing he could implant the Sharingan in himself, but sadly, he couldn’t use it. The only solace was that it was a single Sharingan, and only at the first tomoe stage.

The Artifact System had further modified this Sharingan: it didn’t need the God Tree, and could extract chakra from the user’s own physical and mental energy, as well as absorb external power, even spatial energy. As long as Fury acted cautiously and developed his abilities, he would become Marvel’s own version of Madara Uchiha.

"Mission: Single-tomoe Sharingan. User requirements: a heart steeped in darkness and an unbreakable will."

This Sharingan was practically tailor-made for Nick Fury! If anyone embodied a dark heart and unyielding will, it was him.

The Artifact System had fashioned this especially for Fury, who was already blind in one eye—supposedly clawed out by a cat, Yang Xin thought with a touch of malicious amusement...

By this time, the motorcade had arrived at the supply depot, but Yang Xin and the others didn’t get out; they quietly remained inside the Dino Express. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary sedan, but inside, thanks to spatial compression technology, the space was vast. There was more than enough room to sit, lie down, or even roll around.

"Hand it over," Fury said, extending his hand slowly.

"Two shares of the same supplies," Yang Xin replied in kind, holding out his hand.

"I’ll give you three, and Natasha will help you carry them," Fury countered.

"Deal!" Yang Xin immediately handed the Dimensional Bag to Natasha, granting her level-two access and explaining how to use it, signaling her to collect the supplies.

Natasha’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, but she was shrewd enough not to covet the Dimensional Bag, knowing she’d already struck gold with the Key of Flowers today. She went out at Fury’s cue to help Yang Xin collect supplies.

The Dimensional Bag made the process quick: open it, and the supplies would be sucked in automatically. Still, it took a little time.

Once Natasha had left, Yang Xin turned his hand, and a blood-red Sharingan appeared in his palm, its scarlet radiance glimmering eerily in the dark.

When he handed it to Fury, a torrent of information about the Sharingan flooded Fury’s mind. Instantly grasping its nature, Fury didn’t hesitate; he dug out his blind eye from under the patch and replaced it with the Sharingan.

"Sir, we should really get a specialist for this," Coulson said hastily, only to receive twin glares from Fury and Yang Xin.

"From now on, should I call you Uchiha Fury?" Yang Xin muttered jealously, then his eyes widened in shock.

The single-tomoe Sharingan, once in Fury’s socket, began spinning madly, evolving at breakneck speed.

Double tomoe, triple tomoe, then the three tomoe collapsed into a spinning, scythe-shaped pattern.

"That’s Obito Uchiha’s Mangekyo Sharingan!" Yang Xin shouted in disbelief.

The Mangekyo didn’t stop at his outcry, but spun frantically, as if attempting another evolution, though it finally hit some bottleneck and could go no further.

Yang Xin understood—the Sharingan had reached its limit. Still, he had a theory about its rapid evolution.

Fury’s eye wasn’t lost to a cat, but rather to something that merely resembled one—a Flerken, a terrifying cosmic creature. After devouring the Space Stone, the Flerken had scratched Fury, and space energy from the stone ruined his eye, making it irreparable.

This, however, had greatly benefited the Sharingan, which, after absorbing the Space Stone’s energy, evolved madly with a clear evolutionary path.

The Sharingan was, after all, the Eye of the Soul. By a twist of fate, it had now become identical in power to Obito Uchiha’s Mangekyo Sharingan.

Kamui!

Under the right tactical circumstances, this was an unbeatable skill. Yang Xin could only look at Fury with eyes full of jealousy.

Perhaps noticing this, the ever-stoic Fury broke into a rare, self-satisfied smile. That smile grew even more smug when Natasha returned, and Yang Xin found it all the more aggravating.

Suddenly, Yang Xin had an ominous hunch. After Natasha returned the Dimensional Bag, he swept it with his senses, and his premonition was confirmed.

"Is this the supply you promised me?!" Yang Xin yelled furiously, pointing at Fury.

"It’s exactly what you requested—every last item," Fury replied calmly.

"Let’s not even talk about the living supplies, but the weapons—I wanted modern, state-of-the-art equipment. And you? You gave me World War II relics, nearly ready for the scrap heap!" Yang Xin fumed, pulling an M1 Garand rifle from the Dimensional Bag.

"Can this antique even fire?"

"Of course! It’s been kept in perfect condition—good as new." Fury took the Garand from him, expertly worked the bolt, chambered a round, and, like a chain-smoker savoring his cigarettes, inhaled deeply from the rifle, exclaiming in delight, "Ah, such a familiar scent!"

"Familiar, my foot! I want to exchange this," Yang Xin snapped.

"That’s impossible. Your list didn’t specify ‘modern’ or ‘WWII-era.’ Rifle? An M4A1 is a rifle, but so is an M1 Garand." Fury tossed both the rifle and the inventory list back to Yang Xin.

Yang Xin, after stashing the gun, checked his list. Sure enough, he hadn’t specified an era—just “100,000 rifles, such and such number of bullets…”

"You win this round," Yang Xin said, putting on a show of indignation, though inwardly he wasn’t truly upset. In fact, there was a touch of serenity.

Though old, these weapons were still powerful. Compared to modern arms, they were a bit outdated, but who could say the next world Yang Xin entered would be a modern one? In an ancient setting, the Garand and the M4A1 would be equally devastating.

"A pleasure doing business," Fury said, extending his hand.

"A pleasure indeed," Yang Xin replied, feigning anger as he shook on it.

"Mission complete. Drawing a random skill from Sharingan’s user... Skill acquired: Nick Fury’s Dramatic Entrance."

"I am such a fool, honestly. I knew this Artifact System was a scam, but I didn’t expect it to be this much of a scam! Nick Fury’s style—black leather, lurking in the shadows, making a cool entrance... System, come out here! I swear I won’t beat you to death!"

As Yang Xin was about to start ranting, a shadow flashed into the car.