See more on my P@treon.
[email protected]/Dreamerlord Just replace @ with a
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With the mastery of Skippy's tech, he wasn't just limited to handguns anymore.
He could replicate the tracking-round systems, auto-lock modules, AI targeting cores—
and integrate them into rifles, snipers, shotguns, prototype weapons, even energy-based firearms if he wanted.
And this wasn't a game with weapon restrictions.
This was the real world.
Nothing was stopping him from putting the same advanced tech into his car.
Autonomous defenses.
Smart targeting turrets.
Tracking micro-rounds.
AI-driven countermeasure systems.
His Rayfield Caliburn could become an absolute monster.
"Yeah," Ethan grinned to himself. "A luxury supercar with built-in smart weapons… my own version of a Batmobile."
He could already feel the excitement buzzing in his fingertips.
"Now… I really wonder what I'll get next month," he chuckled, unable to stop the grin stretching across his face.He walked out of the bathroom smiling like a man who had just been given the cheat codes to life.
What he didn't know was that his earlier stunt—taking his laptop into the bathroom, then stepping out with a suspiciously blissful expression—had left quite an impression on the agents secretly monitoring him through the hidden cameras.
In the surveillance room…
"This guy is really Fury's kid?" one agent whispered, baffled.
Another agent shook his head firmly. "No one calls him that. Director Fury doesn't want to label or treat him as a child."
A female agent sighed. "Yeah, but… that smile? That walk? He looked like he just discovered heaven. What the hell was he doing with that laptop in the bathroom?"
The room fell silent for three long seconds.
Then another agent coughed lightly.
"…Should we be concerned?"
"No," someone else replied. "Just… confused."
"Very confused."
They all nodded in solemn agreement.
Meanwhile, Ethan—blissfully unaware he was being judged as a suspiciously cheerful teenager—stretched and headed toward his living room.
And he began organizing the room according to his own taste.
An hour later…
Ding.
"Huh? I wasn't expecting anyone today."Ethan stopped washing the dishes, wiped his hands, and walked to the door. He glanced through the peephole—
…and his eyebrows rose.
Damn. Phil Coulson, huh? Why's this guy here?
Recognizing the familiar face, Ethan cooled his expression and opened the door.
"What do you need?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral.
Phil Coulson gave a polite smile."Yes, hello. My name is Robert Flair—your mother's lawyer."
Ethan stepped aside to let him in but narrowed his eyes."I don't think so. I'm pretty sure we weren't rich enough to afford a private lawyer like you."
Coulson—Robert Flair—remained unfazed.
"Your father was someone… notable," he said carefully, "and he left behind quite a substantial inheritance before his death. However, your mother refused to accept it. She was… upset with him. So instead, she arranged for it to be locked away until you turned eighteen."
He held out a folder.
"May I come in? It'll only take a few seconds. I also have photos of myself with your mother—proof of my identity."
Ethan glanced at the photos—yes, those were pictures of his mother, and Coulson.
"Well… it looks legit enough," Ethan muttered, stepping aside again and letting him in.
Of course he's lying, he thought internally. But If I act too suspicious they will start to get suspicious too so, lets see why is he here?
He sat across from the agent-turned-lawyer on the sofa.
"So," Ethan asked bluntly, "what exactly did she leave? And how much are we talking about?"
Coulson opened the folder and spoke with practiced calm.
"Your mother left you a property… and approximately one billion USD."
PFFFT—!!
Ethan literally spat the water he was drinking right into Coulson's face.
"I— I think my ears are ringing— can you repeat that?" Ethan coughed.
Coulson wiped his face with a handkerchief, completely unfazed.
"You didn't mishear," he said smoothly. "One house. And one billion USD. Everything is fully legal, processed, and tax-cleared. No complications."
Ethan stared at him blankly.
Well damn… I guess Fury isn't heartless after all, he thought.
He looked Coulson straight in the eyes.
"If it was that much money, then why—?"
"Why your mother didn't inherit it? Yes, it is quite an amount, but sadly, She never even looked at it. If I had the chance, I would've told her to inherit it and maybe invest some business while she was still around—as her personal Lawyer," he said, smiling.
"And I will get it all without any complications?" Ethan asked.
"yes, no complications at all" Coulson nodded.
Ethan looked at him and then nodded. "Where is this property?"
"I can give you a tour of it if you want," he said as he stood up.
"Okay, lead the way. Not gonna lie, I'd feel a lot happier if I can get that kind of money," Ethan said, already imagining life if he could get this last big piece falling out of the sky for him.
After half an hour
The car rolled to a slow stop.
Ethan stepped out, took one look at the massive property in front of him… and froze.
"…Robert," he said slowly, pointing at the mansion towering over them. "You call this a house? This—this is a fucking villa. A big, luxurious villa!"
Coulson only nodded with a small, amused smile.
"Yeah. I still wonder how your father managed to win over such a woman who never cared about materialistic things."
Ethan let out a low whistle as he walked forward, taking in the sprawling architecture. Marble pillars, glass balconies, a garden bigger than some city parks, and a driveway long enough to host a car race.
He could practically feel the price tags glowing around him.
"Holy shit…" he muttered. "People like me don't live in places like this. People worth millions live in places like this."
"Well," Coulson said, " good news. You're now one of those people."
Ethan shot him a flat look.
"I haven't even stepped inside yet and I already feel like I owe taxes."
Coulson chuckled. "Relax. Like I said, everything is cleared. You won't owe a cent."