Chapter Twenty-Two: The Lich King's Bitter Defeat at the Hands of the Young Maiden [New Book—Please Add to Favorites and Recommend!]

From the very first moment Coulson laid eyes on Roald, he knew this was no good man—absolutely not. Anyone parading such a hulking brute through the streets had an agenda, without question.

Roald, upon meeting Coulson, immediately pondered the most effective way to extract money from him.

Grommash, for his part, found himself unable to play along with either of these hypocrites. Yet, if he had to choose, he would always stand by the Lich King.

“All right, all right, my friend. I’m simply trying to cross the street; there’s no need for such tension,” Roald waved his hand dismissively. “I’m nothing more than an ordinary citizen—don’t mistake me for some villain threatening public safety.”

“You’d better not entertain such ideas,” Coulson replied with a stern face. “Even if my abilities fall short, I’ll find a way to throw you behind bars.”

“He said he wants to lock you up!” Grommash grunted in disapproval, raising his axe and preparing to bring it down on Coulson’s head.

The Lich King was the one to whom he had sworn loyalty—if his master were imprisoned, what would become of his own livelihood? To cut off his path was to threaten his very existence. Grommash Deathfrost would never allow such a thing to happen!

Coulson recoiled in terror, hand instantly moving to his gun. He realized he’d underestimated the situation!

“Easy, Grommash. No one has the right to imprison me. Take his words as bedtime fairy tales and pay them no mind,” Roald raised a hand, halting Grommash’s movement. Coulson’s face was pale; he sensed that the towering figure truly intended to send him to his grave in the line of duty.

“Grommash knows his limits,” Grommash grumbled, though he still sheathed his axe, wrapped in cloth.

After hearing reports that Roald had left the house, followed by a fearsome, tusked brute carrying something suspiciously wrapped in cloth, Coulson had rushed over without a second thought. He genuinely feared the man might try to destroy, if not the world, then at least New York—or even just this street. It was his duty to stop him.

Roald eyed Coulson curiously. “You don’t actually believe what I just said, do you?”

Why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t as if Roald was incapable of such deeds.

Coulson kept his doubts to himself, responding instead with official-sounding rhetoric: “Nowadays, people in New York think that just because they’ve acquired some special abilities, they’re invincible—and they love causing trouble. There are far too many of them! As an agent, I never assume the worst about a target, but it’s my responsibility to prevent and control any danger.”

“There are others like that in New York? Oh, heavens, how terrifying!” Roald exaggerated his expression in concert.

“You’re right—those who abuse their power lack vision. I, however, am different. But as you can see, what does that have to do with me, an ordinary citizen? Do I look like a villain?”

Coulson: (ﾉಥ益ಥ)

Thank goodness he wasn’t Melinda; Coulson felt he could still endure! Besides, getting angry was pointless.

“Let’s drop the subject,” Roald said, unwilling to waste any more time. The yellow light flashed; he was ready to cross the street—then head home to continue his card-making.

Just as he was about to speak, he felt his hand being grasped.

Roald looked down to find a blond little girl holding a lollipop had taken his hand.

Well now, even at such a young age, her sense of aesthetics was impressive—she’d managed to pick out the most handsome man in the crowd!

“Mister, are you a bad guy?”

Coulson broke out in a cold sweat. Good grief! The interrogation of death! He glanced around, frantically signaling to his agents, ready to protect the little girl at the first sign of trouble.

But what happened next nearly made his eyes pop out.

Roald tried to withdraw his hand but couldn’t, nor did he sense anything amiss. Then he crouched down in front of the girl.

“Someone as good-looking as me couldn’t possibly be a bad guy. Only those uncles with receding hairlines try to fool children this way. If you ever meet one, stay far away—and don’t agree to go see goldfish with him.”

While he spoke, Roald gestured meaningfully toward Coulson.

Coulson managed a polite smile, inwardly adding yet another label to Roald’s dossier.

No wonder Natasha and Melinda both found him off-putting; now he understood why.

Ah, the accursed lolita enthusiast.

Coulson felt his blood pressure rising.

The little girl nodded uncertainly, seemingly understanding Roald’s words, then offered him a lollipop. “Mommy says good children deserve rewards!”

“???”

Roald was a bit stunned by the lollipop thrust toward his mouth.

Grommash tilted his head and raised the axe—he wondered whether the Lich King was under some sort of mental enchantment. His orc instincts sensed something off.

“Of course, good children must be rewarded, citizen!” Coulson suppressed a smile, taking the opportunity to jab at Roald, then quickly scooped up the little girl to protect her.

Roald, holding the lollipop, was about to speak when he saw a row of black SUVs across the street. Their doors swung open, and numerous armed men in black used the doors as cover, opening fire on his position.

Clearly, they’d been waiting here for some time.

Coulson, experienced as ever, clutched the little girl and quickly found cover; the attackers were equally swift. After a barrage of submachine gun fire, two men carrying rocket launchers stepped out from behind the SUVs, aiming directly at Roald.

“Watch out, RPG!” Coulson shouted from behind cover.

“Boom!” A rocket slammed into the ground before Roald, a violent explosion erupting and plunging the scene into chaos.

In an instant, Roald was encased in frozen armor, taking the rocket head-on. The lollipop in his hand exploded, leaving his hand scorched.

Armor -1!

Armor -1!

...

Armor -10!

The damage wasn’t high, but the insult was immense!

Coulson was momentarily stunned, only to realize the protected little girl had vanished. Something felt off.

The gunmen were well-equipped and coordinated, catching Coulson and his team completely off guard.

Brass casings littered the ground before Roald. In Grommash’s eyes, the red fury burned ever brighter!

It seemed the attackers targeted both him and Coulson, though it was possible this was a S.H.I.E.L.D.-staged incident.

Given Nick Fury’s character, he might well orchestrate such a thing—or perhaps it was Hydra within S.H.I.E.L.D.?

Seeing their weapons had no effect on Roald, the black-clad men hurled high-explosive grenades at him. The RPG-wielder ducked back into the SUV, reloading and aiming at him once more.

Amidst the fire and chaos, Roald’s voice was ice-cold.

“Grommash, leave none alive.”

“!!”

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