Chapter One: The True Avenger

Beep—beep—beep—the sound of ambulances echoed through the entire street. Drivers on the road glanced curiously at the hurrying vehicles; one or two ambulances were not uncommon, but few had ever seen a convoy lined up like this. Could it be another terrorist attack or a suicide bomber, perhaps?

While the bystanders speculated wildly, the emergency doctors at the hospital were already prepared for the incoming patients. “Acute onset of mental disorder, nineteen in total. All have been injected with a dose of sedative, but it had no effect, same as the previous cases,” an EMT reported briskly while unloading the patients.

Beside the busy emergency physicians, the chief neurosurgeon frowned, watching each patient clutch their head, mouths agape, pupils dilated, bodies curled up as if seized by unspeakable terror. This was already the third group of such sudden psychiatric cases in the past month. Their clinical symptoms were bizarre; aside from the inexplicable fear, there was nothing physically wrong. Blood tests and other examinations revealed no abnormality that could explain their condition.

The hospital was completely at a loss. Standard sedatives had no effect on these people; all they could do was keep them alive with machines and watch as they periodically slipped into fits of madness. The neurosurgeon pressed his temples, troubled. He had been the one to insist on admitting these patients. If he could uncover the pathology behind this strange illness or any hidden danger, he would surely make a name for himself in medical circles—perhaps even earn a promotion.

But if no progress was made soon, his many competitors in the hospital, ever watchful, might seize the opportunity to bring him down. After all, plenty of people were eyeing his position.

“Dr. Adam, Phil Coulson, FBI agent. I’m here to take charge of these patients,” a man in a suit announced, approaching Adam with a document in hand.

Adam looked up, took the file, and after glancing at the signatures, his mind raced—this was the perfect chance to offload the problem. “These patients are extremely important to one of my ongoing medical studies. Completion of this research could potentially help tens of millions of psychiatric patients…”

Adam instinctively began reciting some official-sounding pleasantries, all the while sizing up the so-called FBI agent before him. Coulson felt a pang of disappointment; he’d expected that for the sake of fame and benefit, these doctors would never cooperate so easily.

“Dr. Adam, I’m simply fulfilling my duty. Please cooperate. Should you have any objections, consult your hospital director and have him contact my bureau,” Coulson replied.

“Oh,” Adam paused for a second before suddenly becoming effusive. “As a law-abiding citizen, how could I possibly obstruct your work? Gray! Escort this gentleman and his colleagues to collect the patients!”

At his command, one of Adam’s interns rushed over. Coulson frowned slightly—the man’s reaction was odd. “Thank you for your cooperation,” he said.

Though something seemed off, Coulson nonetheless expedited the transfer, loading the patients into specially outfitted vehicles. At S.H.I.E.L.D., a team of researchers was waiting eagerly for these prime living specimens.

“Dr. Adam, they’ve taken all the patients of this type. What about our research?” Gray whispered anxiously at Adam’s side.

“We’ll have to suspend it for now. But I’ll file a complaint about their abuse of authority and obstruction of medical progress.” Adam spun on his heel, striding away with a swagger—after all, he’d just rid himself of a ticking time bomb.

Gray, left in confusion, couldn’t understand why Adam seemed so pleased about such bad news. Unbeknownst to him, a small black cat lurking nearby was equally puzzled. Licking its paw, it could only think: humans are truly hard to fathom.

FBI? Phil Coulson? So S.H.I.E.L.D. is up to its old tricks again, dressing up as someone else to do their dirty work.

Yang Qiu opened his eyes. Through the shared vision of the black cat, he replayed the memory of the man claiming to be an FBI agent—and immediately matched him to Phil Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s last director.

“An, come back,” Yang Qiu said after a moment’s thought.

At his command, a cat slipped out from the shadows of the room, trotted to his side, and nestled its head beneath his palm. Stroking the smooth fur, Yang Qiu pondered his next move. He was puzzled—was S.H.I.E.L.D. really this idle, or had he been careless? Why did he keep running into their agents whenever he did anything?

Yang Qiu had no grand ambitions; he sought only revenge. His past life, spanning over twenty years, had deeply ingrained the principle of repaying injury with injury. So, when it came to the gangsters responsible for his adoptive parents’ deaths, he felt not a shred of mercy.

Before his transmigration, Yang Qiu had been an ordinary office worker, living the relentless grind of nine-to-nine. After dying suddenly from overwork, he awoke to find himself in a new body. Reborn, he harbored no elaborate plans. Upon learning that Stark Industries existed in this world, his first thought was to move his parents to China and treat them to every delicacy the country could offer.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. His adoptive parents died in a gang shootout—madmen exchanging gunfire with machine guns right in the street. A stray bullet punctured his parents’ car tire as they tried to escape. The vehicle crashed into a wall, and both were killed.

Yang Qiu, flush with the insurance payout, felt no joy. After a day locked in his home, he abandoned his travel plans. The gangs involved would pay for their crimes. The intensity of his rage awakened his power—a skill born from his former career as a screenwriter, and one that would become his greatest weapon for revenge.

His vengeance was progressing well. The two gang leaders involved in the deadly clash had both died at home—one from a severed tongue and limbs twisted until they bled out, the other by similar gruesome means. Another key gang member had now been whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. for experimentation. Their fate would likely be even worse than death, and as for the possibility of surviving as a test subject? With Yang Qiu around, that chance simply did not exist.