Become a Homelander and a Marvel superstar

"Aaaaaaahh ...

Fury let out a frantic roar.

He staggered to his feet and walked to the liquor cabinet.

The bottle of Macallan M whisky, which I originally intended to treasure until my retirement, now stands quietly on the top shelf of the cabinet.

Fury grabbed the bottle and, too lazy to even look for a glass, simply bit off the cork with his teeth.

"Glug... Glug..."

The spicy, rich liquid poured down his throat, but it couldn't extinguish the fire in his heart.

He gulped down more than half the bottle in one go.

Then he stumbled back to the sofa and collapsed onto it.

Alcohol works very quickly.

The world before his eyes began to spin, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and his consciousness gradually blurred.

So be it.

Take a nap.

Perhaps when I wake up, it will all just be a nightmare.

……

I don't know how much time passed.

The light in the safe house grew even dimmer. The flames in the fireplace flickered, casting eerie shadows.

Fury was awakened by a strange feeling.

It felt like something was watching him.

His agent instincts brought him to his senses instantly.

He rolled to find the nearest cover, his hand instinctively reaching for his waist, where a Smith & Wesson military police semi-automatic pistol, always loaded, was.

however.

The instant his fingers touched the gun handle.

"call--"

An invisible force swept over.

Fury felt a lightness in his wrist.

The gun seemed to have a life of its own; it jumped out of its holster and flew into the shadows of the room.

"You need this, Nick?"

A voice came from the shadows beside the fireplace.

The voice was strange; sometimes it was the voice of one person, and sometimes it seemed to be the voice of countless people overlapping, switching back and forth between the two.

Fury's muscles tensed instantly. He sprang up from the sofa, assumed a fighting stance, and stared intently in that direction.

A slender hand emerged from the shadows.

He was fiddling with the semi-automatic pistol in his hand.

"Great stuff. Humans always love making these little toys that send themselves to meet me."

The person slowly walked out.

By the light of the fireplace, Fury could see what he looked like.

He was a very charming man.

He was wearing a deep red velvet suit, impeccably tailored, exuding a retro sense of luxury.

His long black hair was casually draped over his shoulders, and he had a meticulously trimmed beard on his face.

His every move exudes the air of a nobleman from the Middle Ages.

"Who are you?!" Fury demanded sharply, his mind racing as he searched for anything in the vicinity that could be used as a weapon.

"Relax, Nick. Relax."

The man smiled, revealing a set of pearly white teeth.

"I have no ill intentions, at least not now."

He walked to the sofa opposite Fury and sat down gracefully.

"As for who I am..."

I have had many names.

"Some of them were very cruel and hurt me deeply."

"But I like you, Nick."

The man's facial features seemed to distort slightly, and his voice became overlapping.

"You can call me Mephisto."

"Mephisto?"

Fury frowned. Over the years, he had encountered aliens, Asgardian gods, and various supernatural phenomena, and was no stranger to this legendary name.

"The Lord of Hell?" Fury sneered. "What? Hell's laying off staff too? You're looking for a part-time job on Earth?"

"Ha! That's funny."

Mephisto waved his hand, and the empty bottle of Macallan M floated into his hand.

"Tsk tsk tsk, what a waste. You don't see this kind of thing much where I live these days."

He picked up the bottle and gently shook it. The wine, which had been almost empty, miraculously filled up again.

Then a wine glass appeared out of thin air in his hand, and he poured himself a glass.

"Sit down, Nick. Don't be so tense. I'm not here to eat you."

Fury did not sit down. He remained wary of the man who called himself the devil.

"What do you want?" Fury asked coldly. "If you're here to laugh at me, you're too late. I've already laughed at myself enough."

"Laugh at? Oh, no, no, no."

Mephisto waved his hand.

"How could I laugh at you?"

"I've been watching you, Nick."

Mephisto's voice deepened, becoming increasingly seductive.

"Because I admire you."

"I admire those who are...outstanding."

"Those extraordinary people, yet hopelessly stubborn."

"You consider yourself righteous, and you believe you are doing 'necessary evil'."

"You monitor the world, you manufacture weapons, and you want to eliminate threats before disaster strikes."

"You feel you did nothing wrong."

"But you always end up reaping the bitter fruit."

Mephisto sighed, a strange compassion in his eyes.

"Your secrecy ruined you. Your need for control bred Hydra. You wanted to protect the world, but the world wants to remove you as a cancer."

"Look at yourself now, Nick."

"Hiding in this dark, sunless underground, drinking alone, watching that clown in a cape deny everything you've done."

"Your S.H.I.E.L.D., your Avengers, your reputation, your dignity..."

"They're all gone."

Fury gritted his teeth, his fists clenching so tightly they cracked.

"If you're here to give me psychological counseling, then you should charge me."

"No, I'm here to give you... a chance."

Mephisto snapped his fingers.

A piece of parchment appeared out of nowhere on the coffee table. Next to it was a quill pen.

I know you hate it.

Mephisto stood up, walked behind Fury, and whispered in his ear.

"You hate Pierce's betrayal, you hate the world's misunderstanding."

"But you hate Homelanders even more, don't you?"

"That hypocritical, arrogant man who treats protecting the world as an entertainment show."

"He stole the glory that should have been yours, and he turned your efforts into a joke."

Fury fell silent; he wanted to retort, but couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Do you want to turn things around, Nick?"

Mephisto's voice, like an all-pervasive wind, blew into Fury's heart.

"Do you want to take back S.H.I.E.L.D.? Do you want to prove you're right? Do you want the world to kneel before you again, begging for your protection?"

"I can give you power." Mephisto opened his hand, and a ball of black flame ignited in his palm.

"Give you what your heart desires most..."

Fury stared at the black flame, a flicker of struggle crossing his eyes.

"And the price, Mephisto?" Fury asked coldly.

"The price? Oh ho ho ho ho... It's just something you'll never miss." Mephisto laughed heartily.

"Think about it, Nick."

"Use the power of the devil to defeat the devil."

"Isn't this what you're best at? Fighting fire with fire, for the sake of justice."

The air fell silent...

Nick Fury finally reached for the quill pen and slowly wrote his name.

"I've spent my whole life trading," he muttered to himself.

"Trading freedom for security, lies for truth, and the lives of a few for the lives of many."

"If it can send those scum to hell... I'd personally lead the way."