Chapter Seventeen: The Lich King Believes Himself to Be Ordinary [Please Add to Your Favorites and Recommend the New Book]

“A creature from someone’s imagination? All right, let’s assume for now that this guy riding a flaming warhorse is a figment of someone’s imagination—but did you notice he actually took a selfie? The first video was a selfie, if you paid attention,” Coulson mused, his eyes narrowing after watching the footage. “Also, we heard someone shout ‘RPG,’ but more importantly, why didn’t the attacker just kill Tony outright? Why send us the video instead?”

“I admit, Tony Stark does have a flair for the dramatic, but I don’t think anyone would go through the trouble of creating a knight like that just out of personal spite. His appearance reminds me of the Ghost Rider; doesn’t anyone else see the resemblance?” As Coulson mentioned Tony’s flamboyance, everyone in the office unconsciously nodded in agreement.

“Moreover, the attacker seems intimately familiar with Tony’s whereabouts, which narrows down our list of suspects considerably.”

“So, the perpetrator is either someone already known to us—a manufactured weapon, perhaps—or an insider at Stark’s company.”

“More importantly, the blue frost on this knight could indicate a real monster, but it’s certain there’s an organization pulling the strings behind all this.”

“Director, does a particular someone come to mind?” Coulson’s words sparked a realization in Nick Fury, whose single remaining eye began to glint tactically.

“You’re referring to…?” Fury already knew exactly whom Coulson meant.

The others in the room exchanged glances, watching the cryptic exchange between Fury and Coulson. “Enough with the riddles—just tell us already.”

“All right, Coulson, I’m assigning this case to you. You’ll have level eight clearance; report directly to me with any findings.”

“Melinda, you’ll partner with Coulson on this. You two have worked together before—I trust you’ll make a good team.”

“Yes, Director.” Melinda replied, withdrawing her questioning gaze.

“Coulson, who exactly are you talking about?” Once outside S.H.I.E.L.D., Melinda couldn’t hold her curiosity any longer.

“Ask less, talk less, observe more. Aside from that time he extorted me, I have to admit, he seems decent—if you ignore his knack for blackmail,” Coulson shrugged, crossing himself. “Let’s just hope we live to see tomorrow’s sunrise.”

Melinda blinked in confusion.

Outside Roald’s antique shop, Coulson took three deep breaths, straightened his suit in the reflection of the glass door, and then put on his most professional smile before stepping inside.

Melinda cast Coulson a strange look, unsure why he was so dramatic, but years of habit made her rest her hand near her holster, ready for anything.

“Ah, welcome, gentlemen from the agency,” Erica greeted them with her businesslike smile, busy wiping down the counter—giving no hint she was one of the Lich King’s operatives.

“Hello. To be honest, I’d rather not be here, but duty calls. I hope we’re not intruding,” Coulson responded politely.

“No trouble at all. Once you’re used to spending money here, you won’t feel so awkward about dropping by,” Erica replied.

Melinda frowned at Coulson’s overly courteous demeanor. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents never groveled during fieldwork, but her professionalism kept her silent.

Still, her eyes began to scan the surroundings, just in case.

After a few pleasantries, and just as Melinda was about to lose her patience, Coulson finally got to the point. His demeanor grew serious as Roald descended the stairs. Coulson switched to business mode. “Mr. Roald, I have a few questions. Are you familiar with Tony Stark?”

Every bit of his agent’s intuition screamed that this “ordinary, helpful citizen” was anything but ordinary—a master manipulator lurking behind the scenes, not some disposable extra who’d get shot in the background of a movie.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this guy was plotting something devious.

“Yes, I know of him,” Roald replied calmly, as if expecting the question. “Actually, that makes sense. I am involved to some extent. At this point, there’s no harm in telling you…”

“He’s admitting it?!” Coulson instinctively slid his hand to his gun, feeling like a gangster who’d just realized the buyer was an undercover FBI agent, ready to draw and fire at Roald’s forehead.

But Roald suddenly shifted tack.

“...Did you really think I’d just confess like that?”

Coulson was stunned. He’d genuinely thought the villain was about to reveal his grand plan, and he was ready to make the arrest!

Aren’t villains supposed to monologue when they have the upper hand, giving the hero time to turn the tables, then shout something like, ‘I’ll be back!’ when they lose, only to return for another round later?

Why aren’t you following the script? Don’t you have any villainous self-awareness? Are you messing with me on purpose? How mischievous!

“As you can see, I’m just an ordinary antique shop owner, a powerless man whose daily life doesn’t extend beyond this street,” Roald said, spreading his hands.

He continued, unhurried, “Are you suggesting I kidnapped Tony Stark? Or do you assume I’ll reveal my whole plan to you? Or have you simply watched too many movies?”

In any case, whether it was manipulating Stark’s stock or ordering Vikan to stir up trouble, it was always Erica pulling the strings—Roald had never directly participated.

Coulson kept his hand on his sidearm, not relaxing for a second.

“If you’d bothered to read the morning paper, you might not be so suspicious,” Roald added.

“You and S.H.I.E.L.D. have reason to suspect my involvement in Tony Stark’s disappearance, but I have every right to defend myself. Or is it because you’ve been surveilling me from a distance, and my lack of anger has emboldened you to push your luck?”

“This is standard S.H.I.E.L.D. procedure, my friend,” Melinda cut in, her tone stern—she didn’t know Roald and Coulson had a history. “We monitor persons of interest for everyone’s safety, including yours.”

“I quite agree with the lady. In that case, you’ll be paying my bereavement compensation tomorrow, won’t you, Mr. Coulson?”

Absolutely not! Coulson thought. He’d seen the video; whether or not Roald was the monster on horseback, he wasn’t about to take any chances. New York was crowded, but that didn’t mean S.H.I.E.L.D. could go around thinning the population so recklessly.

Roald’s tough stance was clearly meant as a message to S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Agent, perhaps you should look at this first,” Erica said, returning with the morning edition and handing it to Coulson.

Of course, she’d arranged for a newspaper to break the story overnight, with Osborn covertly pushing things behind the scenes, so Tony’s situation became public knowledge almost immediately.

Coulson glanced at the paper—S.H.I.E.L.D. was still trying to suppress the news of Tony’s disappearance, but here it was, already splashed across the headlines.

How did a newspaper get the scoop so quickly?

Was there a mole?

The secret was out.

Overnight, headlines about Stark Industries’ CEO Tony Stark going missing after an attack and abduction by local terrorists in Afghanistan were everywhere. The photo of him with the armored knight, the explosion blazing in the background, dominated every front page, and Stark Industries’ stock price was plummeting.

Meanwhile, Tony himself was sitting on the ground.

“Listen, man, this really doesn’t make you look sincere,” he said, his face still proud and defiant, even though he couldn’t stand under the weight of the massive sword holding him down.

He flatly refused Vikan’s offer to join him.

“So now what? Are you telling me another version of you will sprout up next year?” Vikan had a mob of ghouls digging a pit, reached out with villainous intent, and dropped Tony in upside down, nearly suffocating him.

“Hey, as a friend, I think it’s only right to help each other. I’m willing to buy in as a partner—what’s your organization called again?”

“The Scourge. You can call us the Scourge.”

Vikan nodded in satisfaction and signaled the ghouls to let Tony down.

“Oh, that’s a cool name. Is it like a magical girl team representing love and peace? By the way, I like red,” Tony said, climbing to his feet and chatting about his preferences.

“No, we’re all villains. By the way, I like red too.”

“Oh, you think it’s cool as well?”

“No, I just enjoy seeing others bleed.”