Gwen Spider: I'm from Prototype

Chapter 33
"Gah!"

Under the dim streetlights, the crow made a piercing cry, and headed towards the windshield of the car.

"Whoa!"

Coulson, who was driving, hastily stepped on the brakes.

The shattered glass residue flew into the cab.

The crow's head stuck into the windshield, and blood dripped down the glass.

Coulson looked into the blood-covered crow's eyes.

Empty and with a hint of indifference.

These eyes made him think of the eyes of the man who knocked him into the air again.

He took a deep breath, and suddenly found that the scene of the dim street lights in front of him had changed.

I was lying in the overturned car, blood was streaming from my forehead, and I was struck by severe pain.

And the man who knocked him over was standing in the crowd, watching him.

"Well!"

He wanted to see those eyes clearly, but suddenly found that the scene in front of him had changed again.

With a grunt of pain, Coulson slowly opened his eyes.

The purpose of entering is an unfamiliar room.

The room smelled like disinfectant.

"Is it a dream?!"

Coulson covered his aching forehead with all his strength, and whispered to himself.

There was a sweetness in the throat, and there were tingling pains in the shoulders and back.

He wanted to change his posture when he suddenly heard a familiar voice:

"Two broken ribs, moderate concussion, steering wheel hitting the front chest wall, stabbing the pleural cavity, stretching and tearing the muscles in the back. If I were you, I would lie down."

Coulson looked in the direction where the voice came from, and suddenly saw his own officer sitting in the corner of the room—the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury.

"Sir."

Coulson was about to speak with a hoarse voice, but was interrupted by Nick Fury.

"If your throat is uncomfortable, Coulson, you can be a timely listener."

He stood up, walked over to Coulson's bed, and put a crumpled brown bag on the table near the bed.

Seeing the puzzled look Coulson cast on him, Nick Fury pretended to be suddenly enlightened, "Sorry, I forgot it won't open by itself."

While talking, he took out a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red Fang whiskey from the crumpled paper bag.

"Would you like a drink now?"

Nick Fury asked him.

"Er, sir, this is too valuable."

Coulson originally wanted to say that he was not suitable for drinking in his current state, but in the end he rejected the other party on the grounds of being "precious".

He knew that he, the officer, loved to hold grudges.

"You know what? Coulson, my uncle used to be an alcoholic, and he always said he was going to die of a stroke one day."

Nick Fury opened the bottle of whiskey, poured a glass into the glass, and said slowly:

"One day, it was supposed to be a nice sunny day, he put on his bad waders and went fishing in the swamp. He had good luck and caught a big fish, not the biggest, not the best, but the size Big. I don't know what kind of fish that is because, fuck, I'm not an ichthyologist."

After Nick Fury was used to swearing, he continued: "The bait he used at the time was very special. It looked like a shiny coin, which was crushed into an oval coin by a train. He called it-a spinner bait .”

"He lifted the fish up, grinning gaily, and whistling, as if to show God or the other fish in the water. Then, suddenly, a blood clot somewhere in his vein broke off, and it went like a bullet."

Nick Fury sipped his wine glass, still speaking in a slow manner.

"Bang! The 'bullet' went into the brain, and then he fell into the water unconsciously. Since there was no one around to call for help, he was quickly drowned, but the fish he caught took his life."

Coulson quietly listened to the chief's story, without interjecting or interrupting, fulfilling the responsibility of a listener very well.

"Do you know what he said most often?"

Without waiting for Coulson to answer, Nick said directly: "When you encounter something that can't be worse, there is nothing that a bottle of whiskey can't stop immediately. When he caught that big fish, he never forgot to give himself Take a sip of whiskey."

"Gudong!"

Nick Fury took a sip of whiskey from the wine glass, and confirmed to his subordinates again, "Are you sure you don't want a glass?"

"No, thank you, sir."

Coulson said with an unnatural expression.

He is a little unsure now, is the director here to promote his alcohol abstinence, or is he here to visit him?

"cough!"

After coughing, Coulson asked the director about something serious, "Sir, I want to know if the person who knocked over my car has his specific identity information?"

"You'd be better off staying in the hospital right now, Agent Coulson, than continuing to work."

Nick Fury rejected him directly.

"I have investigated."

"I repeat, Agent Coulson, you are now temporarily relieved of duty."

Nick Fury blackened his face and directly dismissed the other party from his post.

"Also, prepare a [-]-word report and give it to me. If handwriting is inconvenient, you can find someone to write it for you. Remember, don't use that damned BIC ballpoint pen!
(BIC ballpoint pens have been complained by civil servants in the United States because they are often damaged by penetrating ink. Many people complain about the "silly, big black and thick" style of BIC ballpoint pens, which are rougher than black people.)
After complaining about the ballpoint pen, he ignored Coulson and walked out of the ward.

After walking a few steps along the corridor, Nick Fury took out his cell phone and dialed a number.

"Agent Romanov, I need you to put aside the work at hand, because there is a more important task for you here."

He spoke to the woman on the other end of the phone.

After listening to Nick Fury's narration of the mission, the woman seemed puzzled that she was taking over from Coulson, and asked Nick Fury: "Those cases. Coulson is not in charge? What's wrong with him?"

"Yes, Coulson is in charge of these cases, but he was put on leave. Some fucking bastards are not something ordinary people can deal with, and Agent Coulson is obviously not out of the category of ordinary people."

"It sounds a little strange, am I not an ordinary person?"

Hearing what the other party said, Nick Fury frowned, put the phone on his left ear, and changed his posture.

"Of course, you are not an ordinary person, Agent Romanov, you have advantages that Agent Coulson does not have."

After hanging up the phone, Nick Fury stood by the window in the corridor and looked out.

A few streets away, the huge signboard of Osborne Enterprises, flashing neon lights, is extremely eye-catching in the dark night.

After staring at the signboard with the words "Osborne Industrial Company" for a few seconds, he slowly uttered a sentence: "Mage - Falk!"

(End of this chapter)