Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Grand Trickster Boiled Egg Makes His Entrance

Tony followed the address and arrived at what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse.

“Oh, do agents always work in places like this? Are their budgets really that tight?”

He walked right in and found that the interior was entirely different from the outside—sleek, high-tech décor, with several large screens displaying heroic feats. In addition to Nick Fury and a few guards, there were three others present.

Two were familiar faces: Gwen and Michael. The third was a big young man, clearly nervous, with an awkward, hesitant demeanor.

Tony approached Michael, shook his hand, and said, “Thanks for what you did before.”

Michael was a bit surprised; this was the second time Tony had shaken his hand. Tony, after all, was known for a certain psychological cleanliness—though his aversion was more intellectual than physical. He disliked interacting with people he considered beneath him, like merchants or politicians, and rarely shook their hands or accepted things from them.

“I should thank you as well,” Michael replied.

Tony nodded, understanding what Michael meant, and then turned to Nick Fury.

The bald man, with his single eye full of worry, stared at the group.

“Please, take a seat.”

Michael and Tony sat in the center, Gwen took the seat to Michael’s right, and Peter sat to Tony’s left.

“And you are?” Tony asked Peter, puzzled.

“I’m Peter Parker. I’m also Spider-Man.”

“Oh, I see. The one who fought the Green Goblin. If I hadn’t been held up by certain matters, we would have met sooner.”

Tony extended his hand to Peter.

Peter was overwhelmed, excitedly shaking Tony’s hand. “You know, you’re actually my idol.”

“Oh.”

Tony withdrew his hand, now questioning why he’d bothered to shake it.

He noticed a file labeled “Avengers Preliminary Report” and reached to take a look.

“I don’t want you to read that. I’m not sure it concerns you,” Nick Fury said, taking the file away. Then he distributed a stack of reports to everyone. “These are our agents’ evaluations of each of you.”

Gwen opened hers and read aloud:

“Personality summary: Kind and brave, resourceful and courageous, possesses a strong sense of justice, mature and steady of mind. Recommended for inclusion in the Avengers, as a reserve member.”

Michael, curious about his own assessment, read:

“Personality summary: Resolute in beliefs, a mixture of good and evil, breaks rules but maintains a moral bottom line. A refined egoist, lacking a sense of security, always plans before acting. Avengers evaluation: Pending further observation.”

Michael glanced at Gwen, who was smug, then looked at Nick Fury, feeling a flicker of anger.

“Egghead, you’ve succeeded in annoying me. Tell me, what do you want?”

Gwen couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. She knew exactly what Fury was—a moment ago, Michael had even handed him an egg to eat.

Nick Fury stared at Michael, feeling a surge of frustration. He nearly cursed aloud, but managed to hold it in.

“Don’t misunderstand; it’s just an agent’s evaluation.”

Tony looked at his own report.

“Frequently impulsive—well, that was last week. Tends toward self-destruction—of course, I thought I was dying. A classic narcissist—I'll admit that.”

“Avengers evaluation: Approved. Well, I agree to join.”

Nick Fury looked at Tony helplessly. “Keep reading.”

“Evaluation: Not recommended.”

Tony tossed the report aside. “You’re making me look bad. Are you serious?”

He glanced at Peter, convinced he couldn’t possibly be the worst here.

“Let me see yours.”

Without waiting, he took Peter’s report.

“Personality summary: Kind and brave, immature, talkative, strong sense of justice but careless of consequences. Avengers evaluation: Pending further observation.”

Tony stared at Nick Fury in disbelief. A man as proud as Tony could hardly believe he was rated the lowest.

“This makes no sense! How can you not approve of me? I have a new heart, I’m committed to Pepper, I'm in a serious relationship—everything's getting better.”

Nick Fury fixed him with a stern look. Unable to stand it, Tony decided to give up entirely.

“Fine, I’ve been rejected. I’ll leave.”

He stood and prepared to go.

Nick Fury called out, “Tony, we’d like to invite you to be our weapons advisor.”

“You can’t afford me.”

Tony made to leave, but something occurred to him. He turned back. “But I’ll forego a fixed salary—in exchange for a small request.”

“Name it.”

“I’m going to Washington with Rhodey to accept an award. Help me switch the presenter to this person.”

Nick Fury glanced at the photo—it was the senator who had previously demanded the Iron Man suit, leading to a public falling-out and mutual insults.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Nick Fury agreed.

Tony’s side was settled. Fury then turned to Michael.

Michael knew exactly what Fury wanted. Fury was an old agent; he understood that the way to handle geniuses and troublemakers was the same: cut down the protruding branches, break their pride, and you’re halfway there.

He recognized that Tony, the problem child, would never willingly join if recruited outright. Rejecting him, however, made Tony desperate to stay.

But being invited here already meant Fury’s approval.

Just like with special forces assessments: if I say you passed, you might reply, “Is that all?” But if I call you trash, you’ll frantically try to prove you aren’t.

“Mr. Michael, what about you? Tony has already agreed to join us.”

Michael smiled. “Sorry, I’ve used cunning methods. I’m a refined egoist; I’m not a good person—how could I join the ranks of heroes?”

“In truth, we haven’t denied you’re a good person. Everyone is an egoist, just to varying degrees. Your tragic past made you habitually self-centered, which is normal. As for breaking rules, the very existence of this alliance is itself a break from the rules.”

Fury paused, then continued, “You are actually a good person. You’ve treated many rare diseases, brought hope to countless children. A hero isn’t defined by their deeds, but by whether they’ve truly wished to help others. Mr. Michael, in the eyes of many, you are a hero.”

“In the Lizard incident, you developed the biological serum that saved the city. We have a sample stored in S.H.I.E.L.D. as backup.”

“Mr. Michael, I sincerely invite you to be our weapons and medical advisor.”

Michael was speechless. Don’t think I’ll agree just because you flatter me—don’t play that game with me.

“How much are you prepared to pay?”

Nick Fury frowned, unsure how to respond.

“You’re not expecting me to work out of love, are you? Sorry, I’m busy.”

Fury thought for a moment. “I can offer you some things you actually need.”

“Adamantium, Vibranium, Uru metal, Yaka metal, Carbonadium, Cosmic Cube.”

Aim high, settle low.

Currently, Michael uses Carbonadium alloy—a replica of Adamantium, but inferior in every way.

Tony, on the other hand, uses gold-titanium alloy, a material used by the military for satellites.