American comic: I, JoJo, am going to heaven!

Chapter 81 Garrett's Evil Plan

Grant Ward stood outside the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters office, carrying a suitcase.

After a period of struggle, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in," came Garrett's strong voice from inside.

Ward took a deep breath and, without hesitation, pushed open the door and entered.

"Commander Garrett." He stood at attention and saluted.

"Look who's here!" John Garrett suddenly burst into laughter. "My good lad is back from his mission!"

As Ward's supervisor and the one who led him into Hydra, Garrett was like a father to Ward.

Ward's childhood was filled with shadows: domestic violence from his parents, bullying from his older brother, and his only remaining haven was his younger brother.

But the conflict accumulated little by little. In that dysfunctional home, the parents only knew how to abuse Ward and his brother.

This made him very jealous. Why didn't his parents abuse his youngest brother? That way, he could stand in front of his brother and be a hero for a while.

Ultimately, jealousy consumed Ward, and one day he pushed his younger brother, who saw him as a hero, into a well.

After realizing what he had done, Ward retreated into self-isolation and became a complete social outcast.

Garrett found Ward, who was escaping reality, and gave him a new home.

Inside the office, Ward quietly closed the door and casually pressed the nebulizer button.

The tempered glass in the office instantly blurred, blocking out the transmission of outside sight and sound.

"Sir, I've found this."

He placed the suitcase on the table and reached out to press the open button.

With the sound of air pressure being released, the lid slowly opened, revealing a striking red color.

"This is the Aja Red Stone?" Garrett picked up the red stone and examined it, saying dismissively, "It's quite pretty; it would be a good gift for a woman."

The implication was clear: this thing was really as amazing as Ward said.

"Sir," Ward nodded in confirmation, sensing his skepticism, "I saw it with my own eyes. Jon Yowick fired a laser with it."

"Jon Yowick... the new advisor?" Garrett narrowed his eyes. "So he's Fury's favorite. That makes sense."

Garrett put the redstone back and said, "Sitwell said he has some special abilities, some kind of superpower."

"After all, he's an advisor," Ward said matter-of-factly.

If he didn't really have some skill, Fury wouldn't just casually give someone that title.

Moreover, this consultant receives an annual salary, which is the most valuable part of the explanation.

"Hmph." Garrett gave a cold laugh, his righteousness completely gone.

"I'll send someone to test his limits." He weighed the red stone in his hand. "Ward, send this to the lab in Brazil."

"Sir," Ward frowned, "with all due respect, do we really have scientists capable of researching this thing?"

"Moreover, our funding has been clearly insufficient recently, and many lower-ranking agents are already dissatisfied."

Garrett froze at those words, rubbing his temples in frustration, his head throbbing.

Ward's words clearly explained the current problem.

Hydra's operations are too widespread; after all, they have bases all over the world except for China.

But precisely because of this, the funds they plundered during World War II are almost gone.

They originally wanted to make a fortune through S.H.I.E.L.D., and they did indeed make a substantial profit.

But as a result, after Pierce stepped down and Fury became director, they ended up having to pay out of their own pockets to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. running.

How could Hydra, which treats S.H.I.E.L.D. as their private property, possibly tolerate this?

But Fury's money-making methods were just too clever. After they lifted Fury up there, they couldn't get him down. They were so frustrated.

"You're right," Garrett finally sighed. "But send it as planned, and proceed with the rest as arranged. You go."

"Understood, sir."

Ward nodded, closed the box, and left.

Joan's apartment in Brooklyn.

Skye and Jon finally finished cleaning the room, and the two of them filled a large bag with just the trash.

"Whew—" Skye fanned herself with her hand, her cheeks flushed. "Finally done."

"Yeah, right." Jon slumped on the sofa and joked, "At this rate, you'll probably never get married."

"Hmph." Skye sat down next to him, casually tossing her hair. "I have plenty of guys chasing after me."

"For example?" Jon was about to make a joke when he suddenly moved to the side, looking disgusted. "Hey, you've got your sweat all over me."

"Tsk."

Skye rolled her eyes discreetly; her wheat-colored skin was covered with a thin layer of sweat, making her undeniably sexy.

I expected to see Jon's shy or admiring expression, but all I got was disdain. He really doesn't understand romance.

"I'm going to take a shower."

She got up, picked up her change of clothes, and walked straight to the bathroom without any regard for others.

Jon was already used to Skye's overly familiar behavior.

He had already tacitly accepted the fact that Skye had moved in, so naturally he wouldn't say anything more.

After all, Jon Snow wasn't emotionally naive, and the Joestars had never had an emotionally naive family member; they were just introverted.

Of course, that old bastard Joseph is an exception; he's anything but reserved.

When they were together, he did notice Skye's somewhat alluring gaze.

After discovering that he didn't resist her little probing gestures, the two of them tacitly agreed.

However, neither of them is ready to break the ice yet.

This tacit understanding is quite good; for someone like Jon Snow, who is outwardly flamboyant but inwardly traditional, this current state is just right.

And so, things turned out this way: the two, whose relationship had progressed slightly, ended up living together ahead of schedule due to a series of coincidences.

It was a very strange turn of events.

"What would Jotaro-san have done in this situation back then?" Jon picked up his water glass and drank it all in one gulp. "Never mind, I don't want to think about it."

There are more important things to do now—he should go to sleep.

Jon glanced at his watch. He could still catch up on four hours of sleep, just in time for dinner.

His recent travels in the West had left him exhausted; that old bastard Fury was treating him like an animal.

Investigating Thor's hammer, tracking down the demon's palm, and dealing with attacks from Stand users—each task left him physically and mentally exhausted.

However, the harvest was equally bountiful, including a perfect Aja redstone and the remains of a saint.

He certainly didn't tell the suspicious one-eyed field mouse any of this; who knows what he would think.

Interestingly, Fury knew what he was hiding, and he also knew that Fury knew he knew.

So Jon Snow, who had anticipated this situation, played a little trick.

He cleverly handed over the outdated ripple technology to Coulson, one of Fury's confidants.

The ripple technology is like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey, and Fury is that stubborn donkey.

As long as the old man continues to be paranoid and tries to dig into his past, he'll have no choice but to be led by the nose.

But Fury was no pushover either.

This trip to the West was his way of retaliating. The old man treated Jon Snow like a beast of burden, almost wearing him out.

What's even more ingenious is that, through Jon Snow's personal affairs, the old fox not only resolved two urban legends but also managed to make connections with Asgard.

We agreed that if you do me a favor, I'll do you a favor in return.

But that's the most infuriating part, because Jon doesn't even have a chance to deny the matter of the Devil's Palm and Aja's Red Stone.

"That scheming old turtle... you should be opening elevator doors for people!"

Jon mumbled as he lay down on the bed, and after cursing Fury's ancestors for eighteen generations, he finally closed his eyes.

He needs to adjust quickly; there's still a lot to do these past few days.

The publication of the manga, the research on ultraviolet lamps, the whereabouts of the Pillar Men, and the candlelight dinner tonight—all these things need to be done quickly.

But as he was thinking, Jon fell into a deep sleep.

(The backlog of chapters has been completely exhausted, so I won't be able to post them all at once anymore. I'll only be able to post one chapter in the morning, one at noon, and one in the evening. Please be aware of this, brothers.)

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