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墨書 Inktalez
What could possibly drive a director of S.H.I.E.L.D. to travel all the way from North America down to Brazil?
Based on the recent intelligence gathered, there seemed to be no obvious connection that could explain this journey.
Shasha certainly didn’t want to foolishly chase after Nick Fury in Brazil to discuss matters concerning Luke, so for now, he had to put this issue on hold until that guy returned from Brazil and then make plans.
In the meantime, this was a good opportunity for him to take a break and not feel so exhausted.
Fatigue often manifests physically, but the weariness of the mind, though less apparent, can be far more debilitating.
It turns out that doing the same thing for an extended period or working non-stop without any rest can lead to severe psychological fatigue due to the brain being in overdrive.
Thus, whenever Shasha felt a bit tired, he would take some time to relax both his mind and body.
Miami, with its year-round stable temperatures, attracted many locals and tourists alike who came to enjoy the sun and sand.
Originally, Shasha had planned to go to Hawaii, but since Miami was closer, why not choose the nearer option?
Reclining on a sunbed under an umbrella, he sipped juice while watching the news.
The newspapers in this world were far more interesting than those in his previous life. Although they still covered national politics, gossip, sports competitions, and economic news, the majority of the content was dedicated to heroes and villains.
From initial curiosity to eventual numbness, the endless stream of superheroes provided a significant sense of security for the citizens of America. However, as more and more extraordinary individuals emerged, panic inevitably set in.
It was as if their worldview was being repeatedly overturned; various issues arose as things that were once merely imagined became reality. Was there anything even more absurd?
One glaring question stood out: Do aliens exist in our world?
Looking at the plethora of opinions from experts and professors regarding this question, Shasha felt an urge to tell them that aliens had already arrived—right in Alaska. The hammer that fell near Colorado Grand Canyon close to Las Vegas was his weapon.
He wouldn’t and didn’t need to explain it because no one would believe him anyway; they would just think he was crazy.
He couldn’t explain why beings from Asgard looked exactly like humans or why these so-called gods didn’t fit humanity's typical image of deities.
It reminded him of a movie by Stephen Chow he had seen in his previous life, which completely overturned everyone’s perception of heroes. It turned out that heroes were not as glamorous as people thought; they could be quite ugly and even inferior to ordinary people.
The conversation drifted a bit, but now it returned to the main topic.
Regarding these matters, Shasha skimmed through them quickly and noticed an interesting report.
Tony Stark had kicked Obadiah out of the boardroom without resorting to a forced buyout of his shares through a board vote.
The first thought that crossed his mind was that Tony had made a decision.
The second thought was that Obadiah was about to take action, using the Iron Tyrant he had secretly developed to counter Tony's Mark.
In his previous life, Tony had managed to win, so in this life, it would be even easier. After all, Yinsen was there to assist him, and that guy's armor would only get more powerful.
Interest came quickly and left just as fast, and soon he found himself focusing on other matters.
Perhaps God did not want him to be so leisurely; a phone call interrupted him. He picked it up and saw it was from Wanda Maximoff.
When someone calls during their vacation, it usually means they are facing a problem they can't resolve themselves.
This particular issue was indeed unsolvable because the White Queen had returned and issued her final ultimatum.
After hanging up the phone, Shasha was forced to end his vacation and rush back to his company.
He found himself in the same position, the same posture, but nearly a month had passed since then.
“Mr. Samar, I gave you a month to consider. Can you tell me your answer now?” The White Queen leaned forward slightly, her expression cold. “Will you accept or refuse?”
After pondering for a moment, Shasha asked the question that had been on his mind for a long time. “Forgive me for being blunt, but I’m just a person. Am I really worth your effort to recruit?”
“A person? If the King of Hell makes underground forces tremble in fear is considered a person, then what about all those people on the street? They wouldn’t even count as individuals,” the White Queen laughed lightly before continuing with intrigue. “I’ve already done my research. As for how I got the information, you don’t need to know. You’re also a mutant; you should be able to sense the resonance from mutant genes.”
Well, it turned out he was right; she indeed knew his identity. But where did she get this information?
Regardless of where it came from, it was clear that her current situation wasn’t good; otherwise, she wouldn’t be so eager to recruit people into her core faction. This indicated that her struggle against the Black Queen was not going well.
In her mind, Shasha went through countless thoughts before finally making a decision.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Sister Emma Frost."
Seeing Shasha extend her right hand, the White Queen was momentarily taken aback. Once she regained her composure, a radiant smile spread across her face, as refreshing as a spring breeze. "You won't regret your decision."
Their hands clasped together, signifying that Shasha had officially become a member of the Hellfire Club.
As for the position, to be honest, Shasha didn't care much about it; after all, in her eyes, it represented little.
The power granted by others could be taken back at any time; only what one held in their own hands was truly secure.
However, in the end, the White Queen still appointed Shasha to a position: White Bishop.
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