Chapter Forty-Six: The Testimony of Agent May

"Scarlet Baron..." Coulson repeated the name in a low whisper several times, committing it firmly to memory. "Go on," he said.

Agent May stretched out her left hand, gently touching the wound on her abdomen that still throbbed with tingling pain, and recalled the events of that day with lingering dread. "That Scarlet Baron said I had trespassed into his forbidden domain. He kept asking why I had come to Ingram Street. Because I was on a covert mission, and worried he might have designs on Xiu Zhongshen, I stayed silent.

"But there was something about his presence—a forceful, oppressive authority. I found it hard to hold my ground, and a thought kept surfacing in my mind: Tell him... just tell him...

"In the end, I couldn't hold out. I fired a shot at him."

"And then?" Coulson listened intently. Judging by how this individual dealt with modern firearms, the seasoned agent felt confident he could estimate the man's capabilities.

Agent May's eyes widened slightly, disbelief flickering across her face. "That moment is seared into my memory. As the bullet neared him, it suddenly began to slow, then came to a complete standstill in midair..."

Stopped... This is troublesome... Coulson fell into thought.

Had the bullet been blocked by some impenetrable shield, he wouldn't have been so surprised—after all, May only had a handgun, and there are plenty of things in the world capable of stopping a bullet. Or if the man had dodged with superhuman speed, or blasted it out of the air with some kind of energy weapon—those would be tricky, but not quite so unsettling.

But to slow a bullet, and more importantly, for May to witness it herself... Could it be an ability to manipulate local time? That would be truly terrifying.

"And then? How did you get these injuries?" Coulson asked.

"I saw that one shot was useless, so I reflexively tried to fire again... But before my finger even touched the trigger, a bolt of lightning struck me, so fast I couldn't even react."

As she spoke, May couldn't help but touch the daunting wound on her abdomen again.

"Lightning? The Scarlet Baron summoned it?"

"It must have been him. Everything happened so fast I couldn't see clearly, but afterward my body felt like I'd been hit with a taser—all numb and paralyzed. There's no mistaking it..."

"It's exactly as he said." Coulson murmured softly.

"Who?" May asked, curiosity piqued.

"Xiu Zhongshen—the one who saved your life. When he examined your wound, he deduced at once that your abdomen had been pierced by a concentrated high-voltage electric current."

"Oh? That young man. His medical skills are truly impressive if he could tell that. Where did you find him? I thought I heard the word 'prison' just now," May said with a wry smile.

Coulson glanced at her. "You think it was just his medical skill that saved you?"

"Wasn't it?"

Shaking his head, Coulson replied, "No. With your injuries at the time, not even ten Doctor Stranges could have saved you. He's a superhuman—yes, an individual with the ability to heal wounds."

"A superhuman? Is he a mutant?" May was astonished, but upon reflection, she recalled that Zhongshen's home had no surgical equipment or medical tools. Given her injuries and the fact that she was only unconscious for ten minutes before being treated so thoroughly, only someone with superhuman powers could have managed it. And not just any power—a very formidable one.

"He's not a mutant. We've checked his family history and his genes—no mutant gene present. As for how or why he became a superhuman, I don't know. That requires level ten clearance," Coulson said.

Level ten!

May felt another wave of shock. She couldn't reconcile the charming, easygoing young man she'd met with the highest level of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s classified secrets.

"Enough about him. What about your right hand?" Coulson steered the conversation back on track.

After a moment to compose herself, May continued, "I was lying on the ground, and that fat man kept asking why I'd come to Ingram Street. I tried to make up an excuse, just to get by, but I was paralyzed and couldn't speak.

"Maybe he got angry because he thought I was ignoring him. He just chopped off my right hand..."

She lifted her right arm slightly, gazing at the horrifying limb—little more than bone wrapped in a thin layer of skin—and sighed.

"Then he kept asking. I was desperate, but still couldn't speak, so he decided to finish me off..."

"Disgusting. I've never seen such interrogation methods in all my years. Couldn't he see you couldn't talk?" May spat, her brow furrowed. Agents rarely let personal feelings show when recounting missions, but this time, she couldn't help it.

"And then?" Coulson pressed, curious as to how she had survived.

"At the time, I thought I was doomed. But then, the fat man suddenly stopped. A ball of red light floated out beside him, as if conversing with him.

"I strained to listen and pieced together that the strange occurrences on Ingram Street were the result of some kind of ritual they were conducting. I don't know exactly why, but I did gather that their next target is Moscow."

Coulson interjected, "What if they told you that on purpose?"

"Yes, I had the same feeling. It all seemed too easy—they told me exactly what we wanted to know, even their next target. It's as if they wanted to point S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention toward Moscow," May said, frowning in thought.

"But what would they gain by drawing us to Moscow?" Coulson mused. "Could they be planning to conduct their ritual elsewhere, using this as a simple diversion to draw all our attention to Moscow?"

"But that assumes one thing," Coulson's eyes brightened.

"What?"

"If they really intended for you to carry a false message, there's a flaw in their logic. How could they be so sure you'd survive? With your injuries, anyone would have assumed you were as good as dead."

"......"

The two fell silent.

After a while, Coulson spoke again, "Never mind. I'll head back to Washington, report all of this to the boss, and see what he thinks..."

May nodded in agreement, then added, "But we still need to investigate Ingram Street—especially that inexplicably exploded factory. There must be clues."

"I've already sent Fitz over. You should focus on recovering here for now, and oversee the investigation on Ingram Street. Also, we need to provide the public with explanations to prevent widespread panic," Coulson said, a note of exasperation in his voice.

How could they explain the mysterious red light to the residents without causing alarm? That, too, was a headache.

And then there was that fat man calling himself the Scarlet Baron.

From May's account, he sounded extremely troublesome—a man with multiple powers and the ability to unleash lightning...

For some reason, Coulson suddenly recalled a memory from the 1990s, when he was a fresh-faced intern at Nick Fury's side, and had encountered a certain formidable woman.

The kind who could tear apart a starship with her bare hands...