Chapter 83: The Gap Between People

In truth, after Zhong Shenxiu finished speaking, his business here was more or less concluded. Most of the goals he had set for himself today had been perfectly achieved. He had sheared some wool from Tony, made a name for himself with the military, all in all, a satisfactory outcome.

As for exposing Tony’s highest-level passive ability, that was not something to be hurried—it required time and accumulation.

Thus, Zhong Shenxiu stepped back half a pace and turned his gaze to Coulson, his eyes silently conveying: I’ve finished, it’s your turn.

Coulson, well-versed in the language of the eyes for years, immediately understood. He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Tony, smiling. “This is our S.H.I.E.L.D. contact information. If Mr. Stark encounters any trouble, we’re here to help.”

Tony glanced at the card but did not reach out. Few knew of Tony Stark’s peculiar habit: he never accepted anything handed to him by others. Throughout all the Marvel films, Tony only ever took things directly from Pepper... and, well, from his father Howard Stark when he traveled back in time in Avengers 4.

Pepper, naturally aware of this quirk, deftly closed the phone she’d been typing on and slipped it into her pocket, stepped forward with a professional smile, and accepted the card with both hands.

She replied on Tony’s behalf, “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Coulson.”

Coulson nodded slightly in response, then turned once more to Tony. “Mr. Stark, apart from your treatment, we’d like to learn the details of your escape from the Middle East. Would you have time for that?”

Tony glanced at Zhong Shenxiu, who remained silent. Since the question wasn’t from him, Tony reverted to his true self.

He replied casually, “No time. Maybe later.” With that, he climbed into the Rolls-Royce beside Happy. Pepper quickly flashed Coulson an apologetic smile and hurried after Tony, slipping into the car.

The engine roared to life and soon the Rolls-Royce was gone, leaving Coulson alone and bewildered in the wind...

He’d been ignored.

Though Coulson had prepared himself for this, when it actually happened, a faint sense of disappointment still lingered.

Why is there such a gap between people?

When Zhong Shenxiu spoke, Tony seemed reluctant to leave, yet as soon as Coulson stepped in, Tony vanished like a gust of wind...

Coulson could clearly feel the chasm between how Tony Stark treated him versus Zhong Shenxiu.

Yet Coulson was nothing if not a seasoned agent. If not for Tony’s unusually warm attitude toward Zhong Shenxiu today, which threw him off balance, being ignored would be par for the course—one of the most common occurrences for agents.

He recovered his composure quickly, smiled at Zhong Shenxiu, and asked, “Mr. Zhong, shall I drive you home?”

“Certainly.” Zhong Shenxiu nodded and took a seat in the jet-black Toyota.

Who’d turn down a free ride?

No sooner had Zhong Shenxiu settled in than he felt his phone vibrate again in his pocket. He checked, and saw yet another notification: his account had been credited with two million dollars.

Two million? Why was there an extra million?

He was puzzled, but then spotted a message from Pepper, and realization dawned.

“Thank you for treating Tony, Mr. Zhong. I’ve transferred payment for the second shrapnel. The extra million is an advance for the next one.”

How considerate... This is the life of the wealthy—

Of course, the more money Zhong Shenxiu had, the happier he was. Whether it was advance payment or not, it hardly mattered—just a matter of seconds. The advance was even better; it meant Tony was likely to return for further treatment, giving him more chances to obtain the “Iron Heart.”

Thanks to this, in just one day, Zhong Shenxiu’s assets had soared to unprecedented heights. From just over four hundred thousand dollars, they’d increased more than eightfold, now totaling over three million four hundred thousand.

Indeed, these robust clients are a delight to harvest~

Compared to the gangs, who at best paid a few hundred dollars at a time, Zhong Shenxiu suddenly found himself somewhat disdainful.

As he pondered, Coulson slipped into the driver’s seat, started the car, and thanked him, “I owe you today. Without your help, I might not have even managed to speak with Tony Stark, let alone fulfill the Director’s orders.”

He’d anticipated that Tony would be difficult, but not to this extent.

“It’s nothing, just what I should do. If you’re concerned, just pay me.” Zhong Shenxiu replied offhandedly.

Coulson, feeling moved, was instantly disarmed.

You really are obsessed with money!

Yet, thinking of how Zhong Shenxiu had drifted alone in Queens for years after leaving his home in New Mexico, Coulson found himself understanding Zhong Shenxiu’s hunger for wealth.

“Well...the mission reward, I’ll put in a request to the Director.” Coulson answered after a moment’s thought.

When it came to mission rewards, that was government money, and government funds—did they even count as real money?

So Coulson agreed without hesitation.

Zhong Shenxiu nodded, said nothing, and gazed out at the desolate scenery—the grayish-yellow earth strewn with dead branches and fallen leaves. When it came to money, the more the better; building a device capable of searching for global high-energy signals was no small financial burden.

With Zhong Shenxiu silent, Coulson refrained from speaking further.

The car lapsed into a brief silence, punctuated only by the hum of the engine.

At last, after a while, Coulson couldn’t hold back and asked:

“I’ve always been curious—how did you know Tony Stark would hold a press conference as soon as he returned? And even predict he’d announce the shutdown of Stark Industries’ weapons research and manufacturing?”

For Stark Industries, a company built on arms, its greatest annual revenues came from selling weapons to the military.

A company so dependent on arms, having long regarded its weapons division as its economic lifeblood, was now choosing, when everything was going smoothly, to shut down that department.

It was, frankly, inconceivable.

Yet judging by Tony’s expression at the time, Zhong Shenxiu’s words had proved true.

How could Coulson not be perplexed?

He mulled it over, left and right, unable to find the answer, and finally decided to ask Zhong Shenxiu directly.

Upon hearing the question, Zhong Shenxiu mimicked Coulson’s earlier manner, a slight smile on his face, and replied:

“A secret.”